Page 15 of Take My Crown

It is a very different world to what I am used to. What would my life have been like if my father hadn’t faked his death? Would I be as jaded and spiteful as girls like Ally and Taylor? Or would I somehow have managed to stay as innocent as Milly seems to be?

Standing in front of the entrance to the Academy, I’m not sure how to tell which one is my car and driver. They all look exactly the same. All black, shiny, and expensive.

I bite my lip, scanning the line of cars to see if I can pick out which one of the identically uniformed drivers is mine.

A car pulls up in front of me and the rear window rolls down to reveal a boy with floppy blond hair and a smattering of freckles over his nose. The boy from earlier with the girls.

“Hey, Ivy,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. “You seem a little lost. Need a ride?”

“I’m sorry,” I say with a frown. “Do I know you? You certainly seem to know me.”

“Everyone knows who you are, Ivy,” he tells me with a smirk on his pretty bowed lips. “You’re Ivy Archaic, Slayer of Bullies, Champion of the Weak. Even if being the new girl isn’t enough to make you the centre of attention right now, everyone’s talking about how you stood up to Ally. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you.”

“Maybe I would if I had a clue who you are,” I reply coldly. I have about reached my fill of being nice to people, even attractive boys with enchanting green eyes.

“Sorry. It’s terribly rude of me not to have introduced myself. I’m Romeo Navarre, but everyone calls me Romy. I’m the Head Boy of House Navarre, so we’ll be working closely together on speeches and presentations.”

“Sounds like fun.” I roll my eyes. I’m sure he plays this game with every girl. I’m not stupid enough to fall for a guy that looks like a damn Greek god and clearly has the charm to match.

I hope.

“Can I give you a lift home?” he offers, undeterred by my attitude. “You look like you’ve had about enough of this place for one day. I can get my driver to take the long route back, show you all the sights of Kings Town, not that there’s all that much to see.”

“Tempting as that is, I suspect my father would kill me if I disappeared off with some boy I’ve only just met,” I say, just as my driver pulls up behind Romy’s car with his head stuck out the window, glaring at me for not magically finding him. “And my ride’s here, so thanks anyway, but I’ll pass this time.”

“Not a problem. Maybe next time, then, Ivy. Something tells me you and I are going to be friends. Good friends.”

He pushes the button to close his window, the mirrored glass sliding up to hide him again. His car drives off, clearing the way for my driver to come and pick me up. The driver gets out of the car and comes to open my door for me, a gesture which is always going to weird me out. Can’t rich people open their own doors?

Climbing in, I jump when I realise there is someone already sitting in the car waiting for me.

“Dad!” I gasp as our driver started the engine to take us home. Sitting in a crisp grey suit, a whiskey glass in his hand, he smiles at me.

“Hello, Ivy,” he says. “How was your first day at school? No major incidents I need to know about?”

“No. Not that I can think of.” I shake my head slowly, sticking out my bottom lip as if I have considered his question seriously.

“So you didn’t bitch slap another Archaic then? Your very distant, bastard cousin who would be happy to rival the house for the place of heir if you disappeared?”

My eyes widen. How did he know about my fight with Ally? And I’m related to that bitch? Fucking great.

My father laughs. “I have spieseverywhereso you better get used to it. This is your life now. You represent House Archaic at all times and everything you do sends out a signal about who and what we are. Given that, I have to commend you for tackling a potential threat so quickly. I always knew you’d have the Archaic instincts, and this confirms it. A girl like Ally needs to be shown who’s boss right from the start or she’ll only take advantage of you. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with her now that she knows you’re not afraid to exercise your authority. However, I’m not convinced that your alliance with Millicent Knight is wise. She is of little value to us. I would rather you focus your attention on Archer. A union between our two houses would be of immense strategic value and Archer has other brothers who can lead his house when he becomes your consort.”

“Wait–are you telling me you’re marrying me off already?” Talk about bat shit crazy parenting.

“Not at all, my child.” My father pats me on the hand, a gesture which I think he means to be reassuring but feels awkward and forced, only reinforcing the fact we barely know each other. We have a long way to go before any real dad/daughter bonding can happen.

“But as the sole Archaic heir, it behoves you to consider all angles,” he continues. “As a woman, many will view you as weak and seek to take advantage of you. Someone like Archer can act as a guardian, letting would-be assassins know that if they are to come after you, it’s not just House Archaic they’d have to worry about but House Knight as well. There’s a good reason I asked him to bring you to me. I figured the two of you would be able to bond over a shared experience. Are you telling me you don’t feel a connection with him?”

With my kidnapper? Sure, Dad. I got instant Stockholm Syndrome the second I saw those baby blue eyes and that sexy, sexy ass.

“I don’t think I have a connection with anyone right now,” I say. “I mean, my whole life I thought you were dead and not only were you here all along, you're the head of some weird gangster cartel.”

“I’m not a gangster nor do I run a cartel.” My father is quick to correct me. “My business interests are completely legitimate until proven otherwise. However, I’ll let your attitude slide–once. The way this town works is a little unorthodox, I’ll grant you. But I think you’ll soon find yourself fitting in. It’s in your blood after all. It won’t be long before you discover your ruthless side. Now if I recall, we had a deal. I am happy with the reports I’ve received about your behaviour, so true to my word you may speak to your foster mother.”

“You’re giving me my phone back?” I sit up a little straighter, excited at the thought of being able to contact the outside world again.

“Oh, no,” my father chuckles. “I think we’re a long way away from my being able to trust you with your phone. No, you may use this burner to have a brief conversation with your foster mother. Tell her you’re staying with friends but do not mention anything about me or I’ll be forced to take action. If I’m happy with the way you speak to her, we can make it a regular event.”

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