Page 87 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

How fitting, I think as I lead my Kings through the main gates,that even the plants here are beautiful but lethal.

The click of my heels against cobblestone pathways echoes like gunshots in the morning quiet. Students part before us like water breaking around stones, their whispers following in our wake like perfume.

"Is that really Gemini Prescott?"

"That haircut makes her look lethal..."

"Did you hear what happened over break? They say she almost died..."

"No, I heard she was kidnapped by rival families..."

My smirk grows wider with each speculation, the blood-red color of my lipstick catching light as I navigate the newly landscaped grounds. Wisteria drapes overhead in elegant purple cascades, creating dappled shadows that dance across our path. The effect is almost magical – nature carefully controlled but still wild enough to remind everyone of its inherent danger.

"Jesus Christ," someone whispers too loudly, "she looks like she could ruin your whole life and you'd thank her for it."

Behind me, I hear Zander's dark chuckle. He walks slightly to my left, while Matteo takes the right – a formation we fell into naturally, like pieces on a chessboard arranging themselves for maximum effect. Marcus and Ares flank them, with Ren bringing up the rear in a display of unified power that makes other students scramble to clear our path.

"The hockey incident though..."

"What really happened with Domino and Flex?"

"Didn't you see the news? They found Flex in Turkey..."

"Yeah, trying to get plastic surgery or something..."

"Police caught him right after his face reconstruction..."

The last whisper makes my smile sharper as I remember Hannah's update from last week. Poor Flex, thinking he could take advantage of my generosity. I'd given him a chance to escape, even provided funds for his transformation. But then he'd gotten greedy, started making demands, threatening to expose things he didn't fully understand.

So I let Hannah direct certain interested parties to his hospital room.

After all, what's the point of having power if you can't occasionally remind people why they shouldn't abuse your mercy?

New planters line the restored pathways, filled with night-blooming jasmine that will release its intoxicating scent after dark. The renovation team has outdone themselves – everydetail designed to enhance Leighton's reputation for cultivated beauty hiding carefully maintained danger.

"They're all staring at you," Ares observes quietly, his model's grace making even simple walking look like a runway show. "Like they can't quite believe what they're seeing."

"Good," I reply, deliberately pitching my voice to carry just far enough. "Let them stare. Let them wonder."

A group of Savage Heirs watches our progression from beneath a newly installed pergola dripping with blood-red bougainvillea. Their expressions range from open admiration to carefully hidden fear – exactly the reaction I was aiming for with this transformation.

"Did you hear about the investigation?" More whispers follow us like shadows. "They say it was all fake – the video, the evidence, everything..."

"But Flex confessed in Turkey..."

"After they caught him trying to run..."

"Some people are saying Domino's in rehab..."

The last comment makes several of my Kings tense slightly, though they maintain perfect composure. They know the truth – know exactly why Domino agreed to treatment, know what happened in that sewer to ensure his cooperation. But the rest of the world only needs to know what we want them to know.

After all, isn't that what power really is? Controlling not just actions, but narratives?

We reach the center of the courtyard where a new fountain has been installed – a massive piece of modern art featuring twisted metal and glass that somehow manages to look both beautiful and slightly threatening. Water cascades over sharp edges in carefully controlled patterns, catching morning light like liquid diamonds.

"You know," Ren says from behind me, his voice carrying that dangerous playfulness that's becoming familiar, "I don'tthink I've ever seen someone make walking across a courtyard look quite so much like a declaration of war."

I pause beside the fountain, letting my fingers trail through the cool water. The motion makes my blazer pull tight across my shoulders, emphasizing how the uniform has been tailored to perfect advantage. "Maybe it is," I say softly, watching ripples spread from my touch. "Maybe everything we do from now on is a kind of warfare."

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