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“Take that back,” she demands with a hard expression.

I grin. “Not a chance…bitch.”

She lets out a war scream and then shoves me in the chest. I stumble backwards, almost tripping over one of the cheerleaders. I’m actually surprised she struck first, but I’m so glad she did.

Rushing forward, I slap her across the face. The sound of the slap echoes through the high-ceilinged foyer as her perfect blonde curls whip into her face.

“Ahh!!” she screams as she launches at me and grabs a wad of my hair, yanking and twisting like the she-devil she is.

I grab a wad of her hair, shaking her around to hopefully get her to let go of my fucking head. She continues to scream but doesn’t let up on my hair yet. So, I bring back my other hand and swing forward, punching her right in the eye.

She lets go of my hair, stumbling backwards before tripping over a black backpack and dropping to the floor with a harrumph. The girls surrounding us cheer the bitch on, helping her back up to her feet.

But before I can get to her again, the headmaster and Mrs. Stanley come running around the corner, the gym teacher falling behind while blowing erratically through her whistle.

“What in the world is going on in here?!” the headmaster shouts, looking between all of us as she seeks the person to blame. Then her eyes land on me and hold, narrowing as she steps over the backpack and comes right for me.

“Billie Lucas. Why am I not surprised?” she asks with a snicker, shaking her head in disappointment.

I let out an incredulous laugh. If she’s too dense to even have to ask that question, then she doesn’t deserve to know the answer. Besides, I don’t need her—or anyone else in this room—to think I’m a blabbermouth or a suck up.

“Girls, get back to practice. Billie, you’re coming with me.” She grabs my arm roughly and pulls me out of the room.

This is complete bullshit, but I realize there’s nothing I can say or do to change her mind. Once you become a villain in someone’s head, you’re usually stuck in that role forever. Negativity has a way of sneaking into the minds of the distraught, only focusing on it instead of all the positivity surrounding it.

I wonder if she’ll actually expel me this time.

Chapter 21

CHRISTIAN VERADIN

PullinguptotheBarrett residence in Takumo’s—now my—ride, I park it right up front to make a statement. I’ll park wherever I want. Besides, I don’t plan on being here for long.

As I get out of my car, my phone buzzes in my back pocket. It’s a text from Dana. Of course, it is.

Dana: I’ll be waiting down the hill to discuss when you’re finished.

Is this bitch trying to make me nervous? Ignoring her, I shove my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the front doors.

The Barrett Mansion looks like it came straight out of the goddamn Hollywood Hills—white marble and stone makes up the entire exterior, black doors and window frames, and those tall, weird pine tree looking plants you can trim and shape. Those fuckers line the entire front, all perfectly trimmed, no doubt by the over-paid landscaper.

My knuckles rap on the door a few times before it opens and I’m greeted by a short Latino woman in an actual maid’s uniform—the gray and white one.

She says nothing, staring up at me with big brown eyes.

“Uh, I have a meeting with Beau Barrett,” I tell her, peering into the mansion over her head.

“Sí,” she says with a nod, stepping out of the way.

When I enter the place, I’m not expecting it to feel exactly like my place—cold and empty. It doesn’t seem to look like the Barretts have much of a family life, either. At least Beau has brothers to—

“Christian fucking Veradin.”

I spin around to the sound of my name, finding Beau himself entering the foyer with his arms wide open and a cocky grin on his face. The guy obviously runs the roost around here. Makes me wonder if his parents are even still around or not.

If not, I’m going to have to ask him how the hell he did it.

“Beau Barrett,” I reply, throwing him a challenging glare. “I won the race and you owe me a meeting.”

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