Page 613 of Filthy Elites

His crimes toward us existed long before this disaster.

Dad was the loving father. Until now, he never did anythingfor me to think badly of him.

Sure, like most men in high-profile jobs, he was busy and working a lot, but he made up for his absence when we were together. He took us on vacations to beautiful, exotic places and even took time off two summers ago to go to Rwanda with me. We both volunteered at the children’s hospital and had the most magical experience ever.

More than anything, he was the reason I bounced back after my horrible ordeal as a child. Mom fell apart when she discovered I was raped.

Raped. Me.

She wasn’t there for me because apparently, she blamed herself. She was too consumed with not being able to see that devil for who he was.

His name was Jack. He was someone Dad worked with who became a family friend.

Someone killed him shortly after his last assault on me. Until this day, no one knows who killed him.

I kept every encounter quiet because he threatened to kill my parents, but that last time was so bad I couldn’t stop bleeding. Of course not, I was fucking nine years old. It went on for over a year, but that last time was so brutal.

Mom found blood on the sheets the next morning and thought I got my period.

When she saw bruises on my body, I burst out crying, and she took me to the doctor.

That’s how the truth came out.

It turned out the motherfucker was obsessed with my mother, and when he couldn’t have her, the psycho came after me because I looked like her.

That’s why I hate any reference to our resemblance.

I straighten up and stare at my computer.

It’s time.

Time to take the next step, time to demoralize myself, time to find my path to freedom.

My room is on the same side of the house as Mom and Cal’s but far enough for me to hide away and do what I need to do.

I make my way over to the computer, sit and log into the Decadent Agency site, selling the last traces of my soul to the dark side.

SIX

Chad

“Well,are you going to eventryto explain yourselves?” Principal Kolyav stares back at the boys and me with a heavy scowl on his haggard face.

We sit before him like we’re on trial, and he’s our judge, jury, and executioner.

An executioner who can’t execute.

That’s the reason for the scowl.

He can’t do what he would really love to do, and that’s to get rid of us.

He’s not just a part of the Bratva; he’s a Knight, too, and because he runs the school, his direct line of management is the Pakhan.

He’s not going to want anything happening that taints his unblemished record.

The fool took pride in it until we graced his halls years ago, and he saw just how much havoc we could wreak.

We continue to hold our silence as he uses the end of his pen to tap the bag of cocaine on the desk between us. He then slides it over the picturesomeonetook of the stash in the breakroom, which was cleaned out when we arrived this morning.

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