Page 7 of Prince of Malice

Not his fault that he has the temperament of a child, and it’s just so fun to mess with him.

Fading sunlight breaches my bedroom window as the eventful day comes to a close. Pulling the tight dress shirt from my body, I notice the fresh bruise blooming on my chest. Dominic left quite a mark. I can’t help but touch it, feeling the tender pain as a short groan escapes my lips.

Dominic’s short temper is almost laughable. He was so confident, but it was just too easy to push his buttons. I can’t believe he did that at his own mother’s wedding. Maybe this whole plan isn’t the right idea after all. If Dominic is anything like the rest of his family, then this can only end in bloodshed.

Still, Dominic getting so riled up and violent was fun to watch. Watching him run out of words and turn to violence so quickly makes me feel something, and I don’t know what to think.

Surely, it was just the shock of it, but I can’t be too sure. It feels…different.

I feel my dick swelling at the memory of him slamming me against the wall.

My new stepbrother. I have a feeling our relationship will be… interesting.

3

DOMINIC

Trudging across the Valmont College campus, I catch the intermittent smell of the ocean air on my way to class. The salty scent mixes well with the morning sun’s cascading rays, creating a cocktail strong enough to drag me from the pit of frustration I buried myself in after last night.

The long walks usually provide me with the needed quiet to nurse my hangover before my lecture or congratulate myself on my most recent conquest, but today is different. I want noise and disturbance to distract me from what happened at the wedding. There is nothing, though.

The lecture itself won’t do anything for me either. Despite how much I’ve tried, it just isn’t working for me. I had promised Dad that I’d study business under the assumption that it would help me understand the family dealings, but only months after his death, Mom is already shacked up with Salvatore Valenti, so promises made to him have seemingly expired.

But my tuition is paid in full, so I can’t leave yet. So with three years left to go, I can take my foot off the gas and prioritize what Valmont really has to offer: the fast-paced hub of Montcove’s party scene, comprised of the city's wealthiest douchebags and dimmest heiresses. Now that’s something that can distract me.

Thanks for that, Old Man.

My lecture hall appears in front of me, just past the grassy quad that has a few stray students situated in the different shady spots beneath the ancient trees. This is an aspect of the campus that never really appealed to me. Their only use was to sit andstudy, but I don’t like paying attention in classes, so why put in any work outside of them?

The college itself is a harsh mix of ancient gothic architecture sidling up to the newly constructed ultra-modern buildings. The library in the center of the entire campus that was built when the college was first founded is now surrounded on all sides by the brand-new art, science, and law buildings.

A combination that makes as much sense as the Rossis and Valentis.

Damn it!

Despite all my attempts to reject any thoughts of the wedding, it all just keeps flooding back. Worst of all, it makes me think of him…Luca Valenti. Just the thought of that little shit raises my pulse and makes my jaw clench.

“Focus, you idiot,” I mutter to myself, shaking off any remaining thoughts of him. Even if only temporarily. For now, all I need to think of is college and this lecture. It doesn’t matter how boring it is, just as long as it’s not him. All I need is something to keep me occupied until I can go out tonight,find someone to sleep with, and drink so much I forget their name.

Breaching the threshold of the lecture hall, the fresh sea air is quickly suppressed by the thick wooden doors and replaced with the smell of tepid coffee and stale air. Ushering myself through each row of seats and passing all the chattering students who are more prepared than I’ve ever been, I look at their faces as I walk by.

Some notice me and catch a passing glance as I cross their peripheral vision, but most stare toward the front of the room waiting for the lecture to begin or keep to themselves and their friends. It’s just like the wedding.

Seriously? Again?

I can’t get it out of my head. I need to focus on something, anything.

“Good morning. Are we all ready to begin?” Professor Bressler asks.

This will have to do.

Every word he speaks just goes through one ear and out the other. I can’t pay attention.I never can with this class, but this time I am actually trying, which just makes it more frustrating.

What is wrong with me?

I throw my pen down beside my blank notebook, looking around to see every other person in the room devote their attention to the lecture. I am the only one struggling.

The lecture hall doors swing open for the first time since the lesson began, and someone who is drastically late strolls across the room.

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