Page 57 of Heirs of Havoc

A pastry bag hits my chest, the smell of sugar and butter coming with it. “You gotta eat,” Lev says, his words distant as Chaya walks into the room. She has a mug in her hands, her eyes landing on me and the twins at a table in the middle. While I usually like to stay tucked to the side, the twins prefer to see their surroundings. Chaya twists her nose, walking past us to find another table. My shoulders sink. “What? You want a different snack?” Lev’s deep blues flit to his crotch below the table.

My mind flashes back to the kitchen, bringing me out of my woes. Me on my knees. Lev’s cock thrusting in my mouth. Shaking it out of my head, I say the thing I’ve been saying to myself, “That can’t happen again.” Neither can whatever this thing is with Feliks.

“Why not?” Lev waggles his brows, keeping the pastry bag against my chest as his eyes drop to my tits in my school blouse. “Can’t handle us?”

“What are you looking at?” Vlad, on the other side of me, barks at a student looking at the way Lev looks at me. Like I’m his.

“No-nothing.” The student says.

Vlad nods. “Have a blessed day.” It’s hard not to smile hearing those words come out of his mouth. He’s nothing close to what these townies are. I’m not sure how Vlad stays on campus in his unkempt uniform and aggressive demeanour. But part of me is happy he’s here. My protector.

Lev is way too much of a charmer to get expelled. He’s got most of the girls wrapped around his thick finger. Professors too. And, okay, it’s nice having his charm around. It’s a pleasant distraction. Not that I need any more distractions after last night.

And Dom? Well, as much as I hate his fucking face, if it wasn’t for him, I would’ve dropped out the day William got arrested. And while I hate staring at him in every Society and Culture class, I’m happy I didn’t leave. Happy I didn’t have to go home to my father. Why choose, right? Why choose to go back to my dad when I can have it all?

Wait—Am I calling hanging with Dom and his men “having it all?”

God, I have trauma.

After not eating lunch, Vlad and Lev walk me to the doorway of my class. The one with Dom. “See you in an hour, M&M,” Lev smiles, that dimple in full effect. “Unless you want to skip out and have another dance.”

My cheeks heat, thighs clenching in my kilt at the thought. “I’m sure that's the look you give all the other girls.”

“Except all the other girls don’t give a blowie like you do.”

Someone clears their throat from inside the class and I don’t have to look to see who. “Class is starting,” Dom says and with a nod to the twins, I head inside.

Someone is in my usual seat, leaving only two near the front of the class, to the side. It’s isolated from the rest of the class. Just how Dom wants me. Alone. That “dance” with the twins stays in my mind. Did Dom orchestrate that to use me? Humiliate me? Or was it to serve as a reminder of his power over me?

A couple of Eve’s friends stand in front of him as he leans against his desk. They twirl their hair and flutter their eyes. Whatever he says keeps charming them and that makes my muscles tense, remembering the sounds coming from his room last night.

Dick.

Moving to my desk, I call towards him, “Thought class was starting.”

A smirk comes across his face, but he takes his time flirting with the girls. Dom’s younger than William, less than halfway to Romano’s thirty. It shows in his attire. His sports jacket rolled to his elbows shows off those thick, muscular forearms and the spiral of chains tattooed into it. It's easy for him to make these girls fawn.

When he’s soaked up all his ego can manage, which is a lot, he directs the girls to their seats before addressing the class. “Professor Dooley is absent today, so I’ll be leading you in class.” One of Eve’s friends claps as he pushes off the desk. When I arch a brow, Dom notices, smiling my way.

Is he trying to make me jealous?

Does he know what happened with Feliks?

Dom paces in front of the desk, a finger on his chin. With the way he fits into this TA role, no one can tell he’s a monster on the inside. One with more deaths under his belt than the Grim Reaper. “If you can all—”

Creak!

The door swinging open stops Dom’s words, his eyes darting toward it.

“Sorry, I’m late.” A French accent fills the room.

A tall, slender boy with a golden bun stands in the doorway, his nose ring catching the light. The room goes silent and everyone must think the same thing. Who the hell is this hottie?

“Please, continue,” Hottie says, his pale green eyes darting around the room. A bottle of water hangs from his fingers by a strap. “I will take a seat.” The only seat is next to me and when he realizes, the girls whisper as he makes his way towards it.

As Dom continues, Hottie's knee knocks into mine as he settles into his seat. His hand comes to my shoulder and I’m not sure if I imagine a little squeeze when it does. “I am so sorry. I am a mess.”

“It’s uh—” When I look into his eyes, they dazzle like the aquamarine gem my dad gave me years ago. “It’s fine.”

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