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CHAPTER I
Sade
Itake a sip of mywhiskey, watching her over my bruised knuckles.
Justine Pracht.
The horny seductress who posed as an innocent girl the whole year. Now she hangs by the neck of posh boy Dean Rowland, fishnet stockings creeping up her legs, a red leather corset squeezing in her already wasp-like waist.
It’s a tradition at Norton King’s College for the students to dress wicked slash slutty at all October parties until the great Scream My Name event, but I didn’t think she’d partake. The purity of those caramel eyes blinded me. I was enthralled by the bouncing of her golden locks and the way her rosy mouth moved while she spoke. My cock reacted at the sound of her crystalline laugh as I lurked in the shadows of my mansion, watching her dust off the guest rooms while on the phone with her friends.
But now I see the truth.
It was fake innocence that hooked me when her dad started working as a janitor for my family and brought her along. It was his new job that got her to muster up the courage–or rather the nerve–to apply to Norton King’s, reserved for the wealthiest, most influential, and most spoiled-rotten families in the country. But it was her brains that got her in, with my secret help.
I got so fucking hard whenever I slipped into her bedroom to read the poetry she wrote that I anonymously pledged to pay her tuition fee. The girl is every bit as smart as those caramel eyes promised, and I’m not sorry I did it. Manipulative temptress or not, she earned her right to be here. Even if both she and her dad still believe her benefactor is my father. I barked out a laugh that echoed through the entire mansion when I heard.
That bastard wouldn’t do something like that even if his life depended on it. He gladly took the credit with a snake’s grin when Geoffery and his daughter asked him about the mysteriously paid tuition fee because that’s what Duke Romano Royales does. When he’s not watching a whole football team fuck a playmate until she passes out, he puts on a good front for the public and takes credit for other people’s deeds.
“I hear she sold it to him,” Carlton says, hiking himself up on a barstool next to me, his predatory eyes set on her, too. “Her V-card. He paid a few good thousands for it.”
“Oh, come on, Wilde.” Micah slaps Carlton’s back. He’s much leaner than the Heathen Kings’ hitman, but Carlton’s big body still bounces from the force. “A girl like that doesn’t sell herself off for just a few thousand. It must have been at least fifty grand. Ain’t it, bro?” He turns to me, an evil upturn to his mouth that matches the devil tattooed on his back.
I don’t bother replying. No point fighting the scenarios in his fucked up head since he won’t let go of them. He likes thinking everyone’s either a backstabber or a whore at best. Both at worst. Still, he never judges.
I did my best to protect Micah from the shit in our past, but I failed and it was an ugly fail. In the end, we both got damaged, so webecamedamage. We take pleasure in wreaking havoc, and the entire college knows it. It’s why guys slump their shoulders and scurry out of our way whenever we walk down the hallways. It’s also why girls throw themselves at us, even knowing all they can get is a chance to suck our dicks in the back seat of our cars. There are five Heathen Kings at Norton King's College, and we’re all set to marry women from noble families. Virgins.
But, until then, we fuck dirty.
And the hoes at Norton King’s are down for it.
I just didn’t know Justine Pracht was one of them.
Never mind. I do now.
“This college can be a gold mine for a good ole home girl,” Doggart–Dogg–Wilson puts in. “Maybe she’ll give all five of us blow jobs for the right price.” He runs his tongue over his whitened teeth, never breaking his gaze from Justine. I’d ram his fucking head into the bartop if there was any real lust in his eyes. His face gives off slimy perv vibes, but we all know the issue of his limp dick, so I let it slide. Besides, he’s a King too, and I already violated the No Fucking Up Another King rule once. If I do it again, it could start a war. I scoff under my breath, taking another swig of my whiskey.
King my ass.
Dogg Wilson is an obnoxious little prince who believes himself above everybody else. Except, of course, the guy who left him half-dead in the dirt with four broken ribs and internal bleeding. He hasn’t dared look me in the eye since, but he’s been sucking up.
“I suggest we have a go at her,” Carlton suggests, his eyes dark with dirty thoughts. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind dipping my cock into that pussy. I hear she’s tight as fuck. And this big guy likes a tight pussy.”
“Won’t be that tight anymore once we’ve had our turns with her.” Dogg laughs, and I hear in his voice that he’d enjoy the scenario. I ball my fist on the bartop, my bruises stretching over my knuckles as I watch her grind her body into Posh Boy’s like a whore.
“Ah, all we got is hearsay,” Micah eventually says, lighting up a cigarette and dismissing the matter. “Her dad has been working at our house for a year now, and she sometimes jumped in for a sick maid, too,” he mumbles with the cigarette between his lips. “We know the girl, and she’s not like that.”
To hear those words from Micah has me sputtering out my whiskey. The bastard is never lenient.
“The fuck you know her,” Dogg argues. “You’ve never even spoken a word with her. There are maids at your mansion who’ve worked there for years, and you wouldn’t fucking recognize them on the street. You only know this one because she goes to Norton King’s.”
The fucker isn’t wrong. Our mansion is a palace, and we hardly ever speak to the staff. We might sleep under the same roof but live in completely different worlds. Most don’t even dare look up at us. But Justine stole long looks when she thought I didn’t notice. Dreamy looks.
Probably thinking of ways to use me like she’s using Posh Boy, but then she dropped the idea. Maybe because of my reddish eyes that could rival an animal’s in the bushes, my scarred face, and my movie-villain square jaw. Growing up, Romano never missed an opportunity to tell me how much of a monster I was. A freak. Of course, women would chase me with overflowing cunts because they’re wired to feel attracted to beasts when they’re in heat, he’d say. But that didn’t mean they could ever truly love me. Anyone in their right mind would stay away or eventually abandon me. The way our mother did, even though he helped with that one.
Mother is why I haven’t splintered the asshole’s fucking skull by now. He locked her up in that institution before I was old enough to read, leaving Micah and me with only video calls once a month. But I'm gonna find out where she is one of these days, and when I do, Romano Royales better be ready for a slow and painful death.
“I didn’t believe him at first either, but then he sent proof.”
