Page 109 of Kingmakers, Year One

“Control your girlfriend,” Bram says to Dean.

Before Dean can say anything to either of us, I whip out my hand and overturn Bram’s plate, sending the remains of his ham, gravy, and peas flopping directly onto his lap.

Bram leaps up from the table, the crotch of his trousers stained with grease and his fists balled at his sides.

Dean and I jump up, too, Dean wedging himself in the middle, facing Bram and simultaneously pushing me back behind him.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dean says to Bram.

“She’s making you soft,” Bram hisses back. “Be careful, or you’ll end up like your father.”

Dean seizes Bram by the front of his shirt and for a second I think they were going to start swinging at each other. But one of the Penose gives a soft whistle, jerking his head toward the doorway where several of the burly kitchen staff are standing watching. The dining hall is not a good place for a fight.

Reluctantly, Dean lets go of Bram. They’re both breathing hard and glaring at each other. Bram steps back slowly, then nods to his Penose. They stride out of the dining hall, leaving only Dean’s Bratva sitting at our table still.

Dean expects me to sit down again too, but I’ve lost my appetite.

“Where are you going?” he demands.

“To my next class.”

He follows right after me and tries to take my arm in the hall. I pull it away from him.

“I don’t need you to escort me.”

“I’m just walking with you,” Dean says, grabbing my arm harder and forcing me to stop. “What’s your problem? I stood up for you with Bram.”

“You didn’t say anything about him being a fucking asshole to Matteo and Paulie, though.”

“Why should I care what he does to them?” Dean scans my face with his purplish eyes, genuinely confused.

“Because he’s a bully.”

“So what? This isn’t an ice cream social, it’s Kingmakers. Bram’s an Heir. They’re nobodies.”

“That doesn’t mean he has to be a dick for no reason.”

I try to keep walking, and again Dean stops me, backing me up against the wall. Now he’s really starting to piss me off.

“You’re an Heir, too,” Dean says, his eyes fixed on mine. “You’re going to have to command men like Bram. You won’t win their respect being sweet and sentimental.”

“I’m not fuckingsweet,”I snarl at Dean. “And I don’t need you to tell me how to be a leader. I’ll control myBraterstwobecause theywillrespect me. Because I’ll have honor and discipline, and I’ll demand the same from them. I’ll cut a man’s throat if I have to. But I won’t torment him for fun.”

With that, I push past him and stomp off to my next class.

I’m angry with Dean for being patronizing. But also because I’m afraid that he might be right. My men will always be looking for signs of weakness in me. I’ll have to be more ruthless than any of them to show that I’m strong, that I have what it takes to be a boss.

19

LEO

The weeks after the first challenge are a strange mixture of accolades from my fellow Freshmen and thinly-veiled hostility from the upperclassmen.

Surprisingly, Kasper Markaj is the only person not holding a grudge—he came up to me right after the challenge and clapped me on the back saying, “You did well. Your team trusts you.”

I said, “It was bad luck that you were first out.”

He shook his head, his broad, friendly face resigned. “There’s no luck in competition. Only good and better strategies.”

---