Page 155 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

Where you’re no longer innocent and pleased to be among the rich and worthy. Realizing you’re nothing but cattle to the rich is a level of disappointment you should only allow yourself to experience once.

Any other time and you’re dead.

From swift corners to rushing into dead ends and tapping secret buttons to open hidden doors leads me to the study building through the basement.

Climbing up a ladder leads me straight into a metal storage. Opening the doors leads me out into one of the main classroom supply closets, which is on the end hall of the bottom floor.

V’s class was on the fourth floor.

Three flights of stairs and trying not to look completely drenched in sweat, I slide the door open of the classroom, scanning the room until I see those familiar silver locks spread gorgeously along the oakwood surface of the desk.

Fuck.

For a single moment, I appreciate the scene, how the descending sun invites the perfect blanket of oranges and gold that filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The window nearest is open, allowing the cold breeze to flutter in, lifting a few of V’s strands, allowing me to get a glimpse of her sleeping face as she breathes in and out.

Just seeing her small inhales and exhales triggers a wave of relief, yet that nagging part of me needs to make sure she’s okay.

That this isn’t some sort of mirage.

Closing the sliding door behind me, I silently walk into the room, despite knowing how deeply V sleeps. By the time I reach her desk and gently move some strands away from her face, I can finally let myself breathe.

Proper inhales and exhales that don’t make my chest clench in anxious wait for the bad news.

Staring at her makes me realize how important she is to me. How it seems she became the replacement after I lost my way and didn’t know how I could continue my purpose.

It’s a bit selfish to use my duty as V’s bodyguard as a way of healing my wounds, but accepting this assignment and daring to fall into this prediction of becoming a Ruthless King a second time leaves me devastated about the future.

Matteo may have had good intentions of adding me into this dynamic, but now I’m debating if I belong.

Do I even balance them?

The frightening thing I’m not sure I can accept is that I can’t see a future with the five of us.

I’m still broken.

Damaged goods.

Taking a steady breath, I further move the strands out of V’s face, allowing my fingers to gently brush along her cheek.

Each of them has their designated name for her.

Gemini.

Verena.

Evangeline.

Dolcezza

Sweet Dynamite.

Sweet Canary.

Sweet Precious Gem.

Precious Fighter…

Yet, the best I could do is V? There’s no other unique way of addressing her.

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