Page 44 of A Knight’s Revenge: The Complete Series

CHAPTER SEVEN

JOLIE

S ophomore-level Economics was my first class of the day, and as was my usual luck, two of the Heirs were also in attendance.

As I slunk across the front of the large auditorium-style lecture hall, I also spotted almost the whole Tier One goon squad, including Lisa, Annie, Chad, Dane, and their usual hangers on as they hovered in the general vicinity of Zach and Bennett.

Chad had been very quiet since school had started back up, his perpetual glower in my direction telling me that he was still seething about the collar I’d put on him last semester. Out of everyone, including my former best friends, he’d actually seemed the least surprised by my real identity.

I gave him a taunting wink as I crossed the front of the room, and if his big meaty hand didn’t snap his phone in half with the rage grip he had on it, I suspected it was at least dented a bit.

Zach caught my eye as I ascended the shallow stairs at the far side of the classroom, and he motioned me over to where he and Bennett sat in their usual chosen spots in the middle of the room.

Bennett watched me intently as I made my way over, the fact that his eyes were always on me apparently no longer a thing he took care to hide. I was officially the enemy now, so I supposed he had an excuse to watch my every move.

Zach practically shoved Dane out of the seat next to him before sliding over, leaving his chair open and making a space for me right between him and Bennett.

“Hey, boys,” I cooed at them as I dropped into the open seat. “Be careful, this room is full of tattletales. Can’t let them think you guys like me or anything.”

Zach shot me his sexy smirk. “Can’t let them think we care what they think.”

Bennett simmered next to me. “This is a bad idea.”

“Tired of me already, Bennett?”

He turned to look at me, those mossy green eyes boring into mine with a ferocity that I felt down to my bones. “Tired of you stirring up trouble? Yes. But I’ll never get tired of seeing you breathing, Jolie.”

My heart squeezed dangerously, and I shut that shit down before I did something stupid like climb into his lap and bury my face into the crook of his neck—or start fondly reminiscing about the brain-melting orgasm he’d given me with his skilled fingers—just because he quit being an ass for two seconds.

I blew out a breath and turned away from him, and I’d just pulled my shiny new Knight laptop from my bag when two girls appeared in front of me, hovering in the space between our desks and the row below with nervous looks on their faces.

Hannah Langford, heiress to a massive tech venture capital firm that was historically associated with Knight, spoke first.

“Langford Capital welcomes you back, Jolie,” she said with a formal air, darting an anxious glance over at Bennett.

Her parents’ company was mostly allied with Spencer these days.

“And I wanted to make sure you knew that we’d welcome the chance to do business with Knight again, should the opportunity arise. ”

Bennett glared at her, annoyed, but he didn’t intervene. She was boldly declaring her family’s allegiance to Knight right in front of him instead of doing it privately, earning her my respect.

She motioned to the girl with the blonde pixie cut next to her who was looking up at me with big, curious brown eyes. “This is Devin Kelly. Her family owns the biotech firm that is the largest in our group.”

Devin nodded respectfully to me before she said, “My uncle was close with your father before he passed. He would welcome a chance to work with Knight again.”

“I appreciate it, ladies,” I replied. “I’ll have my team reach out.”

They hurried away, revealing the glares of the other top-tier students where they sat in the rows in front of us.

“Hannah, I can’t believe you,” Lisa hissed at her as she took a seat nearby. “That was so stupid .”

Hannah just tossed her dark-red hair over her shoulder before she snapped, “If you ever decide to start thinking with your head instead of your vagina, Lisa , you might consider whether there’s writing on the wall you’re ignoring.”

I snorted as Lisa essentially proved Hannah’s point by turning to Zach with a pouty lip and a sultry smile, declaring, “Aviano would never betray Ferrero like that.”

Zach acknowledged her, barely, with a lazy nod before leaning in to whisper in my ear, “Look at our girl —getting the hang of this shit already.”

“Your girl?” He’d wrapped his tongue around those words like he meant something more than just “our best friend.”

“Zach,” Bennett snapped. “Not here.”

Zach only chuckled, turning his attention to the whiteboard, but not before he gave me a sexy wink.

Class dragged on, as the professors of Holywell Academy did not believe in the concept of “syllabus day” and always just dove right into the material. I took copious notes, determined to come out at the top of all of my classes this semester.

After all, Bennett and Noah both kept up a 4.0 GPA, and Zach was right behind them with a respectable 3.8. The Heirs had to be on top of everything, including Holywell academics, and I needed to prove I could do the same.

When the professor finally dismissed the class, I watched as everyone began to pack their shit and make their way to the aisles in a chaotic flurry of movement.

Furtive glances were tossed in our direction, our classmates no doubt waiting for more fireworks to erupt between Zach, Bennett, and me, but we managed to sit in companionable silence.

I tried not to relish how normal it felt .

“So, this is the Jolie Knight,” a deep, smooth voice said from the row below us.

I glanced down to see a tall sandy-haired guy ambling our way, bright smile on full display and his light brown eyes honed on me like a laser.

He came to a stop in front of me. “I was abroad last semester and apparently missed quite the event.” He stuck out a hand. “Raiford Montgomery. Let me be the first of the top students to welcome you back to the Academy, Jolie. I heard you weren’t treated very well last semester.”

Then this idiot dared to toss a scolding look at both Zach and Bennett. I couldn’t help but peek at both of them and found they wore matching looks of absolute loathing that said Raiford here was on borrowed time if he kept up his shit.

I held in a snort as I reached out to clasp his hand. “Thanks, Raiford.”

“Call me Raif,” he said, smile widening as he held my hand and gave me an appreciative once-over.

Zach growled next to me, and I elbowed him out of habit like I would have when we were kids.

I hadn’t recognized him until he introduced himself, but Raiford was the son of the owner of Montgomery Star Media—a hugely profitable entertainment empire based in the City that was only very loosely affiliated with Ferrero.

They were as close to independent as a company could get in this town, and it was not entirely surprising that he’d come sniffing after me.

He was tall and easy on the eyes—conventionally attractive if you liked pretty boys who looked like they spent a lot of time on their yacht, which I did not. He had a muscular body that said he spent time in the gym, but he didn’t have anything on the two Heirs seated next to me.

“Thanks, Raif,” I repeated, pulling my hand away.

“Of course. You just let me know if you need anything .” He gave me a suggestive smile and a wink before shooting another shitty look at Zach and Bennett that said he had a death wish, and then he moseyed on by us and toward the door.

“Well, that asshole’s on borrowed time,” Zach grumbled. “Don’t fall for his shit, Princess.”

“He needs to watch himself,” Bennett muttered, glowering at Raif’s back as he exited the classroom.

I stood up, throwing my backpack over my shoulder before rolling my eyes at both of them.

“God forbid one of your peons shows some respect to the Knight Heir. I suggest you get used to it.” I looked at Bennett.

“Or are you going to go along with all this bullshit and try to convince me I’m not actually an Heir, after all? ”

Bennett stood up too—probably just so he could tower over me, the tall asshole—and he pinned me with a steely look as he said, “Convince me you deserve it, Jolie. Because from where I sit, you just look like an angry little girl throwing a temper tantrum.”

“Dude,” Zach barked, sounding taken aback, and I was with him there.

Bennett might as well have slapped me in the face.

I stepped toe to toe with him, getting right up in his personal space—a position I kept finding myself in with him—and I jammed my dark-purple manicured finger into his broad chest. “Did you just call my desire to avenge the cold-blooded murder of my parents a temper tantrum , you heartless fucking bastard?”

For a moment, I could have sworn a look of utter despair crossed his face before he wiped it away, choosing instead to bend down to rasp his growly whisper right up against my ear. “This war you’ve declared against the Families is futile. The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can all move on.”

Then he turned and marched away—wise, because I was two seconds from throat-punching his infuriating ass.

Zach let out a frustrated sigh. “Princess….”

I whirled on him, my angry finger now pointed in his face. “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t make excuses for him.”

I stomped away, now wound tight with feelings I needed to work out.

Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.

The gym, pristine as always but still smelling vaguely of both sweat and lemon-scented cleaner, was full to the brim for the first Fight Night of the semester.

I’d watched from my perch on a top bleacher as the first rounds of fights had gone on without much excitement.

Chad was still an overinflated sadist. John Tyler Ashmore was back to pummel his opponent into the ground and look bored while doing it.

Even Raiford the pretty boy got into the ring and boxed a senior to a draw.

“Are you sure about this?” Mari asked me for the tenth time. She reclined next to me in her black playsuit, her legs crossed as she bounced her red stiletto nervously on her foot. “I have seen the aftermath of your rage and all, but this could go tits up quickly.”

“They’ve got to see me as an equal, Mari,” I replied as I wrapped my hands. “So we’re going with the shock and awe approach.”

Finally, Dane appeared in the center of the makeshift ring on the gym floor, his red hair glowing orange under the solitary fluorescent light, and he put his bullhorn to his lips.

“Alright, Holywell Fight Night fans!” he shouted. “We have our current reigning champion here if anyone is brave enough—or perhaps stupid enough—to challenge him for his title!”

As expected, Zach appeared from the shadows, dressed in a tight white T-shirt and black sweatpants. His tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, those delicious biceps bulging as he cast his dark gaze around the gym with a challenging smirk.

Bennett and Noah lingered on the perimeter, Noah still in his navy vest and tie and Bennett in his crew practice clothes, both of them looking bored and ready for the night to be over already.

“So, who wants to try their luck against the Ferrero Heir?” Dane called out, spinning in a circle and making a show of looking for takers.

The crowd cheered and shouted for Zach, who could only grin lazily. He knew, as I did, that there was no one left who’d dare hop in the ring with him.

I jumped to my feet, landing with a loud thunk atop my bleacher, and I shouted down to the gym floor. “Hey, Dane!”

The room quieted instantly. The students in the rows below me craned their necks around to search for the source of my voice.

I tromped down the stairs and stepped into the light. “I will.”