Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“He really was watching me,” I mumble to myself, a small smile on my lips.
Some might get pissy over something like this, but I quite like the idea. Would I have been upset about it had I seen this at a different time? Maybe, but that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it?
Refocusing, I push out a sharp breath. With an overly aggressive fist, I bang on the door in rapid repetition until I hear movement on the other side, but what I don’t expect is a giant male with a shaved head to tear it open, his AK pointed straight at my head.
I raise a brow, and he visibly pales, dropping to his knees with a bowed head.
“Miss Revenaw, forgive me.”
I ignore him completely, stepping around to find a wide-eyed, half-asleep Katana.
“What—”
“Get up,” I cut her off. “Dress like me and be in the hall in five minutes.”
She draws her blankets up to her chin. “Please don’t kick me out.”
“Four minutes.” I head out her open bedroom door, the one the guard must have barreled through, and don’t look back.
To her credit, she’s in the hall with one to spare.
She follows me down the stairs, and only when we reach the bottom floor do I realize I have no idea where I’m going. I’ve never seen the gym, and I’m not about to ask her to show me around what’s supposed to be my own home, so I head out the back terrace instead, following the path Grandma led me down and out onto the sand.
I start jogging, and eventually, she catches on and follows after me, her footsteps clunky and the toes of her shoes dipping into the sand because she has no idea how to be light on her feet. It’s only going to make it harder for her to manage the distance I’m about to take her on.
We get about a half mile before her open-mouth pants reach me and I shake my head, doing my best to ignore her. At three quarters, she begins to whine.
“How much farther?”
I pick up the pace.
“I’m sweating.”
I take a deep breath.
“I need water.”
Slamming my eyes closed, I come to a jerky stop and whip around. She has no control over her body, staggering into me, but I put my shoulder out and she knocks onto her ass in the sand.
Her eyes snap up to mine, sweat dripping down her temples and cheeks flushed red. Somehow, she still looks pretty.
I shake my head, glaring at her. “Stop complaining.”
“I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well after…” She swallows, and I almost smile at the blush that slips over her. “I haven’t eaten, and I didn’t even have time to drink a glass of water.”
“And if you get kidnapped, you won’t sleep or eat for even longer. You’d be lucky if they give you a bucket to piss in, let alone a glass of fucking water.”
She scurries back, shooting to her feet and looking around frantically before bringing her eyes back to mine. “He told you.”
“He should have told me sooner.”
She scowls at that. “He shouldn’t have told you at all.”
I stalk toward her, getting in her face. “You’re lucky he did, princess, or I would have likely killed you before you left for Greyson Elite.”
“He wouldn’t let you!”
“Yes, he would, but that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it?” I spit. “Now that I know, I can’t ignore it. Your first term starts in a few weeks, and you need to be prepared.”
She crosses her arms like the bratty teenager she is, legal age or not. “I don’t need your help to pass my classes. My IQ—”
“The fact that you’re bothering to tell me what your IQ is further cements how fucking dense and out of your league you are. You must not know this, but. Every. Single. Person. In the academy is in the one percent. The brightest of the fucking bright, but not only are they masterminds, they’re the toughest of the tough. They are geniuses with full combat training, all who have mafia, royalty, and cartel ties that most of them call Daddy, and not the kind they begged to be branded by.
“You’re a mouse going into a jungle of predators who will chew you up and spit you out for no other reason than because they’re bored, and they can. You probably won’t survive your first week before you’re calling and crying, begging Enzo to let you come back.”
She swallows, lifting a shoulder in false bravado. “So what if I do?”
I’m already shaking my head, predicting what she was going to say before she spoke the first word. “You’re not coming back here, Katana, not as a permanent fixture. The day you leave, is the day you step toward your future, and we both know there is no future for you here.”
Her lips press together, an anxiousness settling over her because she knows I’m right.