Page 57 of Kings & Corruption

“Being here.” He didn’t say whether that was because of Emma or my dad, but either way, he was right. It was difficult.

“I’m managing,” I said.

He smiled. “I’m happy to help if you ever need it. Just say the word. You can find my email on the portal.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Willa.” My name was spoken in a bark behind me, and I realized Rock had entered the lecture hall. He looked angry, but his gaze wasn’t trained on me.

It was trained on Professor Ryan.

“Let’s go,” Rock said, his eyes still on the professor.

I was annoyed, but pride made me act like it was normal, like I was choosing to have Rock follow me around like a Rottweiler instead of being forced to endure it.

“See you Wednesday,” I said to Professor Ryan.

I glared at Rock, then brushed past him and headed up the stairs.

Chapter26

Willa

It was like that all day: Rock showing up at every class to walk me to the next one, staring down any guy who showed even friendly interest in me. By the time I reached my last class, I was more than annoyed, and I was relieved when the professor dismissed us early so I could head to the admin building on my own.

Turns out, my sociology professor was a bore. The only thing I was going to get out of a year with him was a nice daily nap. It had taken me all of fifteen minutes to decide to switch it out for anthropology, and for that I needed to go to the admin building.

Walking across campus on my own felt almost subversive after having Rock as my shadow all day. I second-guessed my decision to leave without texting the group chat — Rock was going to be pissed when he came to pick me up and realized I wasn’t there — and felt a burst of frustration.

At myself.

Why did I care what Rock — or any of the Kings — thought? Why did I care if they were mad because I broke one of the rules I never even agreed to follow?

I took a deep breath and headed across the lawn using the walkways that connected the buildings. The sun was shining, the temperature perfect. The trees that ringed the campus were just starting to change color, a few of the leaves tipped with yellow, and I was suddenly excited for fall, when everything would turn gold and the air would get crisp and cool.

Passing by other students on their way to and from class, I could almost believe I was just like everyone else at Aventine. I’d be thinking about whether it was too soon to start wearing boots and sweaters, about the cute guys in my class — the ones who weren’t acting like wardens in a maximum-security prison.

But it was a fantasy. I was Willa Russo, daughter of a traitor, sister of a missing girl everyone seemed to have forgotten.

Except I wouldn’t let them. I would do whatever it took to find out what had happened to Emma. I would pretend like I was here for school like everyone else while I quietly hunted for answers.

I would even play the Kings’ stupid game.

But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

I reached the admin building and followed the signs to the registration office. After ten minutes in line and another ten dropping sociology, I was on my way out of the building when I decided to double back to the second floor.

This was one of the few occasions when I actually had an excuse to be “lost” in the admin building. I might as well use it to get the lay of the land.

The ground floor was a hub of student activity. I passed the ballroom where the welcome ball had taken place, then glanced into the cafeteria, a large high-ceilinged room with wood floors and round wood tables. It looked more like an upscale corporate dining room than a college cafeteria, but other than that, it was a surprisingly normal scene, with students talking, laughing, and goofing off while they ate.

I thought I spotted Claire and Quinn and hurried past the room. I wasn’t looking to draw attention to myself and that was something I seemed to attract at Aventine without even trying — and not the good kind of attention either.

I passed a closed set of carved double doors with a gold plaque announcing the room beyond as the chess room. I’d been taught to play chess by my dad, but it wasn’t something I’d kept up with, and the days of legendary chess matches at Aventine had faded with the advent of video games and social media.

Still, I was curious about the room rumored to be a breeding ground for rivalries and alliances that sometimes followed the students of Aventine for decades. My own father had been mortal enemies with a cartel boss named Felix Jiménez because of a particularly sly checkmate back when they’d gone to school here.

I continued past the bursar’s office to the back stairs, and the noise fell behind me as I stepped into the stairwell and climbed my way to the second floor.

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