Page 84 of Wicked Nasty

"Do you and dad really think this is necessary?"

Katya shakes her head firmly. "Absolutely. Your mother... she never wanted to see your father truly happy. She did terrible things to others and even to you."

I nod sadly, remembering the pain my mother caused me before leaving.

"I just don't understand how she can cause so much damage and get away with it."

"It's all about money. It can change people for the worse." The car pulls up to the school and Katya takes my hands in hers. “You will be just fine. I love you,moya sladkaya.”

Stepping out of the car, I take a deep breath and slowly make my way to school. The familiar sights and sounds of students chatting and rushing to their classes surround me. My heart beats a little faster as I walk towards the guidance counselor's office. My new counselor, Missus Sudo, waiting for me inside.

As I take my seat in front of her desk, she greets me with a warm smile. "Alright, let's start fresh," she says, sliding a blank sheet of paper towards me. "What majors are we considering?"

I hesitate before picking up my pen and writing down a few options. "I guess... history?" I offer tentatively.

Missus Sudo chuckles softly. "Nice try, but I know you don't have much interest in history."

I sit back in my chair, thinking hard. Journalism, teaching, communications... but none of them truly resonate with me as a long-term career choice.

Seeing my struggle, Missus Sudo reaches over and pushes a brochure towards me. "I think you might like this one," she says, her eyes twinkling.

My gaze falls on the title: 'International Relations.' I look up at her in surprise. "Why?"

She smiles knowingly. "You're incredibly intelligent - quick-thinking and logical. But you also have this ability to charm people when you need to. And let's not forget your impressive language skills - four languages fluently spoken."

I feel slightly embarrassed by her compliments and shrug bashfully. "How did you find all this out?"

"I took a look at your test scores and have gone over all your paperwork," she answers simply. "A perfect sixteen hundred on your SATs - that's no easy feat. And then you went ahead and aced the ACTs too."

"There are plenty of other smart kids out there," I protest.

Missus Sudo laughs and slaps another paper down in front of me. "But you, Becca Carney, are one in a million. Not only did you take the IB test, but you scored a forty-four - just one point shy of perfect."

I groan playfully. "Still salty about that one point."

She meets my gaze seriously. "You have so much potential with these scores. Take a look at the international relations major and come see me tomorrow."

With a nod, I thank her and make my way out of the office, heading towards the library to start researching this unexpected option for my future career path.

I make my way up the winding steps, towards the secluded area in the back where no one ever seems to come. The two imposing bodyguards nod their heads in recognition before descending the stairs and leaving me alone.

As soon as I reach my destination, I slip on my headphones and start playing my carefully curated playlist. The music envelopes me, drowning out any distractions as I open my notes.

But then I hear it - faint footsteps approaching. And with them, that familiar shadow of him.

His presence is always accompanied by a delicious, sultry scent; a combination of fresh pine needles, warm brown sugar, the clean aroma of his crisp uniform, and that hint of crisp apples. But what always catches me off guard is that unexpected hint of mint from his gum.

Danny.

He carefully takes my headphones out, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck as he leans down to kiss it. My heart flutters at the touch of his lips, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Wow, pretty bracelet you got there," he murmurs.

As his hands play with the waistband of my skirt, sending shivers down my spine, I can't help but let out a soft moan. "Mmmm. It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Where did ya' get that?" he asks, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin.

A mischievous smile tugs at my lips as I reply, "Oh, this pain in the ass boy, who won't leave me alone."

Danny chuckles softly against my neck, trailing kisses down to my collarbone. "Are you sending him mixed signals, butterfly?"

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