Page 151 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

We’re already at my locker.

“Alright. Thank you, my King,” I humbly add the part because deep down, I’m thankful he wants to go with me. “Also, thank you for the water. I really needed it.” I mean those words as well.

Grabbing my stuff, I notice the absence of the packed lunch on the top locker, but I do see a granola bar with a sticky note.

Don’t forget to eat, Sweet Dynamite.

I smile at the note and take the granola bar to put it in the front pocket of my bag.

“I swear he’s a stalker,” Ares mutters when I lock my locker.

“You know that, though,” I offer with a smile.

“I’m going to find his hidden office,” Ares vows. “He says you’ll find it before any of us.”

“Probably.”

“I love how you’re so confident, as if it’s that easy,” Ares grumbles but takes my hand.

“If I find it, do I get a prize?”

“No.”

“Then it’ll forever be a mystery,” I conclude, making him groan in defeat.

“Okay, fine. What do you want? A car? A shopping spree? A Hermes bag? A street named after you?”

“A street named after me?” I gawk in horror. “That’s a bit too much.”

“You know Matteo or Zander would do it.”

“That’s ‘cause money lets them do extravagant things like it’s normal.”

“I don’t do that?”

“You’re more tamed in comparison,” I complain. “Someone has to remain balanced in the dynamic, or else you all will be bankrupt in five years or less, and as your Ruthless Maiden, I can’t have that happening. We actually have to do monthly Ruthless meetings or something and talk finances.”

“Really?” Ares seems intrigued. “Why would you care? You’re supposed to hate us, remember?”

“Hate or not, your success is my success,” I remind, knowing the chances of others listening. “As your Maiden, that’s my purpose. To ensure you succeed in your uprising. So I’ll do my part, regardless of how you guys push my buttons.”

“When we pinch your nipples, you don’t complain,” he mutters with a playful smirk while I curse and grip his hand far too hard. “Ow. Be careful, Verena. Injure a model’s hand and you’ll face consequences.”

“Ugh. Walk faster! I don’t want to be late!”

“Didn’t answer what you want?”

“A cottage trip near a poolside with all of us relaxing, eating marshmallows, and doing normal shit.”

“That’s such a teenage early college summer break shit,” Ares whines.

“Well, I’m the ugly nerd who didn’t get to do any of that,” I huff and end up pulling him along because we’re going to be late, and I don’t know if we’re getting a nice professor or a bitchy one.

“I doubt you were ugly,” he notes as if to remind me.

“Glasses, pigtails, and acne are the definition of ugly. Add the fact I love video games and reading is a bonus,” I summarize.

“Do you still game?”

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