Page 67 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

“Gin for me and Joaquin,” Mr. Prescott insists.

“Are we going to jump back on that tiny tidbit you revealed, or is that gonna be a later discovery?” Zander ponders.

All eyes are on him, but he just shrugs.

“I’m a curious rat, so I can just find out myself.”

Matteo rolls his eyes.

“Did you actually roll your eyes?” I question because I feel as though I hallucinated it.

“It seems to be a common thing to do when it comes to someone who reminds me of someone.”

“Of who?” Aries asks.

“Myself,” Matteo mutters and walks back to his seat. Sinking into the red velvet cushion, he lifts the contract once more. “Now, let’s get to reading this together like a happy set of fuckers before something else comes and bites us in the ass.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Zander whines. “At least let the alcohol get here first.”

“We’re not going to last a month, let alone the whole school term.” I groan because that’s how I feel. I’m tired, and it’s only been thirty minutes in the same room with us as a group.

“Probably not, but if we do, I think it would be nice,” Zander suggests. “With Sweet Dynamite, though, we do have a fighting chance, don’t you think?”

I don’t know why he has this hopeful look on his face, but I wish to believe his words.

“If she can’t keep you fuckers together, no one can,” Mr. Prescott concludes as he lowers in his seat.

“You think she can?” Aries speaks up.

“Not can,” Mr. Prescott corrects. “Will, Aries.” He gives a proud smile as his eyes darken. “Because we didn’t raise a weak bitch.”

We’re going to find out that he’s 100% right.

13

THE BEST TALENT IS NAIVETÉ

~GEMINI~

“We need one more picture!”

“Mother,” I groan, but not too harshly because I can see firsthand how happy she is to have this brief moment to ourselves.

Heck, I can’t even remember the last time I was alone with my mother.

It’s not like I’ve ever had a problem with her being glued to my father’s side—or the instances she was on Mr. Leighton’s side—but acknowledging it now makes me understand why I’ve had a closer bond withmyfather than with her.

With a broader understanding and firsthand experience of what my mother may have endured to ensure this power dynamic didn’t go straight to the pits of hell, I can see why she may not have been around as much as I liked.

Not necessarily physical, but more so, emotionally unavailable.

I grasp it now, but a tiny part of me wishes I could have unraveled the truth earlier.

I would have avoided a lot of internal suffering.

“I know. You’re not a picture person, but the last photo we have of one another is when you were still my mini-me.” She smiles the best she can, but I see the way her eyes begin to water.

“Mother…” My voice softens now because I see the growing level of guilt forming in her eyes, which are identical to mine. It gives me a perspective of what I look like teary-eyed. “Don’t cry. I get it.”

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