Page 4 of King of Violence

But here’s the kicker: Felix doesn’t know my family’s part in the same underworld that tore his apart.

To him, I’m just another rich kid from a well-off family who coasts through life on privilege.

That should make me feel nervous, maybe even guilty. Instead, I find myself wanting to understand him more.

I snap my laptop shut and grab my jacket. Sitting here isn’t going to get me anywhere.

Valmont’s campus is quieter at night, the sidewalks lit by old-fashioned lampposts that cast long shadows over the cobblestones. I head toward the library, figuring it’s the best place to clear my head…and maybe “accidentally” bump into Felix.

The library hums with a muted energy. Students hunch over laptops and textbooks, their voices low and focused. And there he is, sitting at a table near the back.

Felix looks different here, surrounded by books and the soft glow of his laptop screen. His earlier sharpness is still there, but there’s something more relaxed in the way he sits, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he scribbles in a notebook.

For a moment, I hesitate. He doesn’t know who I really am. And for some reason, I don’t want to ruin this clean slate just yet.

I make my approach, letting my footsteps make just enough noise to catch his attention.

“Burning the midnight oil, counselor?” I say, leaning casually against the bookshelf.

Felix looks up, his blue eyes narrowing as soon as he recognizes me. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask as I pull out the chair across from him. “I’m here to learn.”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at the football stadium.” I flash a grin as I sit. “Besides, I’ve been known to pick up a book or two.”

Felix leans back in his chair, his expression skeptical. “Let me guess. One of those books about ‘unlocking your full potential’ orGoodnight Moon?”

“Ouch,” I say, clutching my chest dramatically. “The kitty has claws. I’ll have you know I’m full of untapped intellectual potential.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Felix mutters, turning back to his notes.

His dismissive tone would normally piss me off, but I can’t seem to drag myself away from him. I want to know why he doesn’t like me. Ineedhim to like me.

“So,” I say, leaning forward, “what’s got you buried in books this late? Big case study? Crushing the hopes and dreams of someone less prepared?”

Felix sighs, clearly annoyed but too polite to tell me to leave outright. “I’m working on a research paper. It’s due next week, and I don’t have time for distractions.”

“Distractions? Me?” I feign shock. “I’m offended. I’m here to add value to your study session.”

“Doubtful,” Felix replies, his tone as sharp as his pencil as he underlines something in his notebook.

I watch him for a moment, my grin fading into something softer. He’s so tightly wound, like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It makes me wonder if he ever lets himself relax, even for a second.

“You know, Tin Man,” I say, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to be so serious all the time. Life’s more fun when you loosen up a little.”

“Tin Man?” Felix looks at me over his glasses.

I tilt my head. “’Cause you’re cold and acting like you don’t have a heart.”

Felix sits up straighter, his expression unreadable. “Not everyone has the luxury of living life without consequences, Julian.”

The words hit harder than I expected. He thinks I’m just another rich kid who’s never had to fight for anything. And to be fair, that’s exactly what I want most people to think.

I lean back in my chair, smirking to hide the shift in my mood. “I wouldn’t call playing quarterback for this school a consequence-free life. You try dodging a 250-pound linebacker and tell me how easy it is.”

Felix doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even crack a smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

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