Page 10 of Dirty Heirs

“This can’t wait.” I clutched his bicep, which was much bigger than it looked, and it was hard for me to get my entire hand around him. “We need to talk. Now.”

Aiden groaned, shaking his head. He always looked so angry, like he was seconds from punching me in the face.

When I didn’t release my grip on his arm, Aiden glanced across the table at Ella. “Cinders, give me a second to talk to this clown. I’ll be right back.”

He calls her Cinders?

How cute!

Not.

I didn’t take offense to the name he called me. Aiden had this whole bad boy who didn’t care act down pat and fuck if it didn’t turn me on. I was getting a little chub just looking at the blond scruff on his jaw and all the tattoos beneath his blazer.

If he weren’t the grandson of Carl Wellington III, he would never get away with rolling up his sleeves, exposing his tattoos, or leaving his shirt untucked. And he definitely wouldn’t be allowed to sit in class wearing graffiti-covered sneakers. The Founders’ kids were untouchable at Astor Prep. Our parents donated more money than all the students combined, so the rules didn’t apply to us.

But I still tried to follow them.

Aiden pushed his chair from the table and followed me toward the salad bar.

“You should sit with Marcello and me,” I suggested.

Aiden rolled his eyes. “Nah, I’m good where I am.”

He turned to leave, and I threw my arm out to stop him.

“You can’t be seen with her, Aiden.”

The motherfucker elbowed me in the ribs and shoved me. “Get the fuck out of my way, Pretty Boy. You’re an asshole. Just like all of these pieces of shit who treat Ella like garbage. Fuck you.” He slammed his palms into my chest. “Fuck all of you.”

“No, you don’t understand.”

I got in his face, and our foreheads almost touched, with us being around the same height. He was maybe two inches taller, around six feet four inches, give or take. And that got me wondering what else was big about him.

“Your grandfather will have a stroke if he finds out you’re hanging out with Ella Doyle.”

“Why?” Aiden stepped back to give us some space, teeth gritted. “Because she’s not as popular as you and your stupid jock friends.”

“Her father is Cian Doyle,” I told him, but this meant nothing to him. Aiden was clueless about our world. “There’s a reason none of the students speak to her. You don’t want to get involved with the Doyles. Trust me.”

He folded his arms over his chest, studying my face as if inspecting for a lie. “Look, I’m just trying to eat my lunch. So get off my back and go sit with your friends and do whatever the fuck it is you people do.”

“You are one of us,” I reminded him. “We got your back. It doesn’t have to be us vs them.”

“It does when you make me choose sides,” he shot back, his top lip quivering like a dog ready to attack. “I don’t care who Ella’s dad is. She eats lunch by herself every day. No one speaks to her. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

I shook my head.

“Well, I do. And I’m not bailing on her.” Aiden glanced at Ella before looking at me one last time. “Get lost, Pretty Boy.”

Chapter Six

AIDEN

I was so angry I could spit fire. That pretty motherfucker thought he could tell me what to do.

Not a chance.

I stormed away from Sonny before I snapped his neck and sat beside Ella at our table. I liked that I had a safe space with her, away from those jerk-offs who acted like they owned the damn school.

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