The rebel

4

Zoe

I’m surprised how much I enjoy coming back to Kingmakers.

I never intended to attend a mafia school, but I can’t deny that what we learn here is complex and fascinating. Who wouldn’t want to know ancient secrets handed down through generations of criminals?

Well, maybe Cat . . .

She looked like she was on death row when I hugged her goodbye at the Barcelona airport. I feel so guilty that she got roped into coming here along with me, all because of that sadist Rocco.

I know he only wants her here so he can use Cat as leverage against me—one more weapon in his arsenal. What fresh torment he’s dreaming up, I can only imagine. That’s the worst thing about him: the constant unease, like knowing there’s a viper in your house without actually being able to see it. Hearing it slither around inside your walls. Never able to rest in case it wriggles out from under your chair and bites you on the ankle.

I hope Cat is settling in as well as can be expected.

It’s difficult for me to check in on her, since we’re not in the same division or the same year. I’m an Heir, in name at least, even if my father never intends for me to take over his business. That means I room in the Solar with the rest of the female Heirs.

Cat, on the other hand, has apparently been stuffed down in some basement with an Icelandic vampire as a roommate. I’ve yet to meet this roommate, who Cat thinks is named Rakel, but can’t be certain because the girl refuses to speak to her.

I don’t have to worry about a roommate. I’ve got the same little broom cupboard as last year. It’s barely big enough to squeeze inside between the bed and the dresser, but I’ve got a nice big window and I don’t have to share it with anybody.

My two best friends are right down the hall. A

I’m thinking that’s what happened last night, because Chay comes down to breakfast already chattering away a mile a minute, while A

Chay has on a full face of sparkly makeup, she’s prancing around in a brand new pair of knee-high white leather boots, and she streaked her hair bubblegum pink over the summer. She looks like Jem from the Holograms.

“GOOD morning!” she chirps, dropping a tray loaded with an obscene amount of bacon and sausage down onto the table.

“Chay. . .” A

“Is that what you’re eating?” I ask Chay, eyeing her pile of protein.

“I’m on keto.”

“You’re go

“And you’re going to get diabetes,” Chay replies sweetly.

I see Cat hovering uncertainly over by the chafing dishes. I wave to her so she can see where we’re sitting. She hastily fills a plate with fresh fruit and scrambled eggs and comes to join us.

“This is A

“Hello,” Cat says shyly.

“You’re so little!” Chay says cheerfully. “I thought you’d be tall like Zoe.”

“No,” Cat says, blushing. “I’m not.”

I can tell she’s embarrassed, because honestly, she looks like a little kid compared to everybody else at Kingmakers. It doesn’t help that Cat always leans toward oversized clothes that drown her petite frame. She looks like she’s wearing hand-me-downs even in her brand new uniform.

“Doesn’t matter!” Chay adds quickly. “I’m pint-sized myself. I still hold my own. Puts you right on level to give somebody a good punch in the balls if you have to.”

“Great,” Cat says weakly. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“You’ll settle in here soon,” A

“Really?” Cat says, eyeing A

A

“Really.” A

She smiles at Cat across the table. I feel a warm flush of gratitude that I have a clique of ready-made friends for Cat. It’s the least I can do, after getting her into this mess.

That lasts about five seconds until Rocco sits down next to me, with Dax Volker and Jasper Webb right behind him.

Dax and Jasper are his favorite henchmen. Dax because he’s a nasty brawler—thickly muscled, with a square, blocky head and a bulldog jaw, and Jasper because he’s almost as cruel as Rocco himself. He’s tall with a slim build and long, dark red hair. Beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt, I can see tattoos ru

Rocco sits right next to me, while Jasper drops down beside Chay and Dax flanks Cat, so all three of them hem us in like a Bermuda Triangle of assholes. There’s no need for any of them to share our table—there’s plenty of open space in the dining hall. This is obviously Rocco’s first foray into expanding our “intimacy” at Kingmakers.

The temperature at the table drops twenty degrees, and the friendly conversation amongst us girls hardens into stony silence.

I hate having Rocco next to me, but I’m even more conscious of Cat’s discomfort as she cringes against me, trying to shrink down to nothingness so she doesn’t accidentally brush up against Dax’s melon-sized shoulder or the tree-trunk thigh straining the bounds of his trousers.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” Rocco says to me. He gives me a thin, chilling smile.

I can’t describe the antipathy I feel every time he invades my personal space. Every cell in my body screams at me to get away from him. There’s something so off-putting in the way he moves—either holding too still or making swift and unpredictable movements that make me want to jump out of my skin.

However, unlike Cat, I refuse to move away from him. I hold perfectly still, trying not to let him see how much his proximity bothers me.

“I didn’t,” I reply.

Rocco makes a disappointed tsking sound.

“Oh, Zoe,” he says quietly. “I thought we discussed this. Is this really the attitude you want to take as we begin another year of school?”

Jasper leans his elbow on Chay’s shoulder, his skeleton fingers dangling down just above her breast. Chay has no problem staring him down even with their faces inches apart. She went to boarding school with both Rocco and Jasper, and she is well familiar with their tactics.

“Nice breakfast, biker bitch,” Jasper says to her. “I always knew you liked sausage.”

Chay picks up one of the brats in her fingers and takes a ferocious bite off the end, chewing loudly in Jasper’s face.

“I only like big, thick sausages,” she says coolly. “From what I hear, you’ve barely got an Oscar Meyer weenie.”

“Big enough to choke you when I shove it down your throat, you fucking whore,” Jasper hisses, his nose almost touching hers.

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