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“I’llsave murder for another day,”Icut into the mother-daughter battle, earning a glare fromPiya. “Fornow,I’llsettle for a seat at the table.Thisplace is too popular to accommodate me.”Inodded at my tray of food.Anormal person would’ve invited the school's owner to join them for brownie points.However,Piyawasn’t interested in playing ball.
“Um—”
Poppyread the hesitancy in her mother’s eyes and immediately gestured to an empty seat at the table. “Gofor it.”ThewayPoppypushed her mother’s buttons surpassed the typical shit children did for attention.Albeitentertaining,Ifound myself wondering about her intentions.
Thethought was quickly dismissed whenIcaught a whiff ofPiya’sscent, something floral and expensive.Thehold on my tray tightened into a death grip.Fuckmy plan and fuck weaseling intoPiya’sdaughter’s life.Instead, my eyes searched for the nearest bathroomIcould dragPiyainto.
Aman’s true testament of control came from the most grueling circumstances.Whereothers used singular exceptions to lose control, it was at those moments thatIreveled in my ability to keep cool.Thoughwhen it came toPiya, she sure tested my limits to the maximum.
Withmore control thanIever exercised before,Iblocked out the urge and set my tray down before losing the battle.AccordingtoLevi,Poppywas the most important thing inPiya’slife.Thiswas the surefire way of solidifying whatIwanted.Withoutletting her figure out an exit strategy,Isat adjacent to a bewilderedPiya.
“Umm, a-alright,”Piyastammered.Shelooked between us as if half expectingPoppyto interrogate me or ask follow-up questions about my presence.WhenPoppydid neither,Piya’seyes drifted back to mine.Forthe first time since meeting her,Icouldn’t read whatPiyawas trying to communicate.
Piyaspeedily recovered upon realizingPoppy’sattentive eyes were closely surveying our interactions and became determined to block out my presence.Sheturned to her side, reverting to their original conversation.
Ienjoyed cafeteria lunch while pretending to be distracted by my phone.WhereasPiya’sdismissal would’ve roused a need for destruction, it suited me perfectly fine in this scenario.Listening, rather than engaging in conversations, was a skill not employed by many.Itgave me valuable insight into people, andIneeded to levelPoppy.Moreimportantly,Ineeded to learn her wants and weaknesses.
“IstheWi-Fiworking in your room now?”Piyaasked her daughter.
Thelittle shit nodded, though her eyes perused me suspiciously.Shedidn’t miss much and frowned when my attention drifted toPiyaout of the corner of my eye.Poppy’sdemeanor shifted.
“Andhave you met your new roommate yet?”PiyaaskedPoppy, spiraling pasta around her fork. “Doyou like her?”
“Sheis still alive and has all of her hair if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Poppy!”Piyaadmonished but quickly shut her mouth whenIlooked up from my phone.Shedidn’t want me to be privy to her troublesome daughter.
Ishrugged. “Don’tstop talking on my account.Theheadmaster sent over transcripts of all the students admitted to the summer session.I’mreviewingMs.Ambani’spermanent records as we speak.”
Piyaappeared to have stopped breathing, soIwent in for the kill.
“IheardPoppy’slast roommate left school in the middle of the semester.”
Poppy’ssmile didn’t reach her eyes, and that was when her weakness became abundantly clear.Iwas wrong.
Thepest wasn’t rich and spoiled.
Thepest was rich and a non-empath.
Thiscould turn into a problem.Ihad to figure out how to bribe her, and quickly.Distractthe kid with what she wanted most in this world so she wouldn’t create a spectacle during her parents’ impending divorce proceedings.Ithad to be somethingPiyawould approve of as well.
GiventhatPoppy’sfather was immensely wealthy, money wouldn’t work.Usingmy fame and connections as bait was also pointless sincePoppyhadn’t inherited her mother’s musical talents or interests.Instead,Poppywas an accomplishedMathematician.Shewas accepted intoMensaat the age of six, started coding by eight, competed inMathematicalOlympiadat eleven, along with a myriad of other accolades to her name.
ReviewingPoppy’strack records, it was evidentAmbaniwas grooming his daughter to take over his massive empire.Hewas from one of the wealthiest and most prominent families inIndia.Theyhad their hands in every industry, but their most coveted source of income was hedge fund management.Thestack of books beforePoppyindicated everythingJayAmbaniwas known for.
Mathwhiz.
Investmentguru.
Hedgefund tycoon managing billions of dollars in assets.
Piyawas the momma bear type whose only desire was for her child to have a happy, healthy life.Shewouldn’t allowAmbanito dictate their daughter’s future, not unlessPoppywanted it, too.
IfIhad to guess,Poppywas an ambitious kid who wanted to take over her father’s position one day.Noone had this much interest in math, stocks, and investments unless they had a goal to achieve.Iwould know.Similarambitions drove me whenIwas her age, younger even.
Therewas, however, one stark difference between us.Control.Poppy’sbehavioral issues were a dead giveaway that she lacked impulse control.
Myattention drifted to another set of books cast to the side.
