Page 8

Scarlett

A chorus of groans rings through the hall as Professor Thompson announces our next assignment, which immediately startles me into the present. I’ve been daydreaming, replaying the moment Gray and I shared in my apartment over and over in my brain; I can almost recreate the entire thing.

No, I wouldn’t make it out alive if someone placed a gun to my head and promised to spare my life only if I stated one thing the professor had said during the two-hour lecture. My mind was elsewhere the entire time.

On him.

The man lying to my father and a bunch of dangerous men about his identity. The man I let touch me. The man who kissed me like he was starved and then proceeded to drive that wild tongue over my sex. In my kitchen, and again later on the couch before he left.

“I’m so over this. Professor Thompson and his darn surprise assignments,” Brooke whines from the seat next to mine. “God, where does the man get the time to even go through them?”

“He doesn’t,” I comment, nodding toward his teaching assistant, a pretty redhead who seems to have aged ten years since she started working for the professor. I can almost read the resentment in her eyes when the man announces yet another essay, but she’s not the only one.

I can’t help but feel a sense of dread, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of writing another essay.

I see the same thought process mirrored in the faces of my classmates, most of whom major in other things, but are forced to take this class in philosophy.

There is a collective despair when we realize we’re going to be spending the next few weeks wrestling with obscure, hard-to-understand theories instead of facts.

The professor continues to talk, his voice a monotonous drone in the background, and I find myself zoning out once more. My thoughts drift back to Gray and his very skilled mouth. I feel the spot between my thighs tingle at the memory before I am rudely yanked back to the present again.

The class is over it seems, and I wince as chairs scrape along the floor as people get up and the room falls into loud chatter, mostly complaints, but when I turn to my best friend, it’s to find her watching me curiously.

“What?” I ask defensively.

“Something’s different about you,” Brooke says, her eyes narrowing on mine.

For a solid minute, I question if she can read my mind and tell what I did over the weekend.

Or who I did. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I haven’t changed anything about my appearance,” I say, clicking the laptop’s lid closed before sliding it into my bag. “Let’s go grab lunch. I’m starving.”

Brooke hurries to pack up her things before following behind. “I’m not talking about your appearance,” she says, falling into step next to me. “You are always so focused in class, but today you were distracted. And you have this dreamy look in your eyes.”

Dreamy look. Kill me now!

“I wasn’t distracted.”

“You were.” She muses. “I get it, philosophy is boring for most of us, but you always give it all of your attention.” Brooke grabs my arm and stops me in the hallway. “Scar, did something happen?”

There is concern in her eyes, and a part of me wants to open up about it all.

I want to tell my best friend about me and Gray, but that will only force me to open up about my father, and…

I can’t. I am not confident that Brooke will still want to be my friend if she finds out that I am the daughter of one of the most ruthless men in the city.

Which means I can’t tell her about Gray, but I don’t want to lie either.

“There is a guy,” I start, carefully picking my words and ignoring the way her eyes light up. “Something happened, and I’m still processing it. Before you say anything, I promise to tell you everything once I figure it out.” I quickly add, reading the questions in her eyes.

“That’s not fair. I tell you everything about Axel.”

“I know, but you and Axel are different,” I comment, ignoring the little twinge of jealousy at the knowledge that I will never have an easy love like hers.

One which everyone in her life supports.

The jealousy is immediately replaced by guilt.

Axel and Brooke’s relationship wasn’t exactly smooth sailing at the start either.

“Did he like the key chain you got him for his birthday?”

Brooke lights up as she starts talking about her boyfriend, and I welcome the subject change.

We talk about her relationship during lunch in the cafeteria, making plans to go shopping after we eat, except when we step outside the college gates, there’s her biker boyfriend waiting for her.

The second I spot him, I realize that our plans are canceled.

Brooke turns to me in apology, but I simply wave it off.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d pick me up. I’ll tell him we have plans—”

“No,” I cut her off. “I’ll be fine. I have a lot of work to do anyway. Let’s raincheck on the shopping.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod, flashing her a smile. She hugs me goodbye, and I watch her run to her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around him. I feel a twinge of envy when he pulls her deeper into the embrace, kissing her shamelessly in front of everyone.

I’ll never have that.

A love so pure. Open and free. My father would kill any man who dared touch me that way in the open.

He would never allow me to go out and fall in love with whomever I wanted.

Kiss and hug them in public. I’m fated to end up with a man he picks for me.

A connection that would benefit him more than me.

If the man runs in the same circles as my father, then my future husband is probably a cold sadistic man too.

I think of Gray.

With his warm touch, his soft caresses, and gentle words that make my heart ache with longing.

You were regal. A dark-haired princess, oblivious to everyone else around her as she stared out into the city. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were gorgeous that night, and I wanted to kiss you everywhere.

I know I shouldn’t, but I picture what an affair with Gray would looks like. The entire Uber ride to the clubhouse, I picture Gray and I walking hand in hand in the streets. If his mission fails—and I’m afraid it might—my father would kill him. We’re Romeo and Juliet, destined for tragedy.

By the time my ride pulls up outside the clubhouse, I’ve already worked myself into a fever of anxiety with my stomach all knotted up with fear. The feeling only amplifies as I walk toward the entrance. The men standing guard let me in without a word, and the second I enter, I feel all eyes on me.

I should be used to this. Hell, I was raised here and shouldn’t let the looks get to me, but it always unnerves me.

No matter how many times I show up here, I’ll never belong. Not with my father nor his men. Not in this city. I would run if I didn’t believe my father would comb through the country until he found me. He’d drag me back here and marry me off to one of his goons out of spite.

Breathe. Slow deep breaths, Scarlett. Don’t let them see your fear. Don’t let them smell it.

I put on a mask of indifference as I walk through the quiet room, fingers tightening on the strap of my backpack as I count the seconds until I get to the stairs.

I don’t breathe even when I leave their eyesight, my expression masked as I walk to my father’s office, letting out a relieved sigh when I find it empty.

I allow myself a moment to breathe before walking to my father’s computer.

I figure working today and moving his money around like he asked will keep him off my back for the rest of the week.

I’m about to turn on the computer when the door suddenly opens.

I look up, expecting my father to walk in, but my eyes widen in surprise when I spot Gray.

My first reaction is to run my eyes over him.

The man is dressed in simple jeans and a T-shirt, but his outfit looks anything but ordinary on that lean muscular body.

My heart starts racing as I follow the outline of his broad shoulders and the way the shirt hugs his frame.

His dark hair is tousled and falls slightly over his forehead, framing that ruggedly handsome face in ways that makes me want to walk over to him and touch him.

There’s an undeniable pull between us, a fire so strong it almost burns away all the nerves from earlier. When he fixes those eyes on me, I almost forget that he’s forbidden to me. Almost.

“Gray,” I whisper, unable to mask the longing in my voice before I shoot to my feet in panic. He’s here. In my father’s office. “Oh God, you need to go.”

“Scarlett—”

“No, you need to get the hell out before my father arrives and finds you in his office. He’ll kill you!” Gray shuts the door behind him and locks it. “W-what are you doing?”

“He’s not here,” the man says, walking deeper into the office. “Stone went out for a business meeting, and he’ll be gone a while.”

“W-what? How do you know that?” I ask, unable to keep the shakiness from my voice.

“I’ve made friends, princess.” I suck in a sharp breath when he walks toward me, and since I’m not fully convinced of my father’s absence, I back up a step. “Hey, trust me. He’s not here.”

“His men are,” I whisper. Several of them are downstairs, and although it’s unlikely any one of them would dare enter my father’s office in his absence, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.

Gray takes a step forward, and I take another back, gasping when my back connects with the desk. Gray doesn’t waste time caging me between him and the desk, his eyes flashing with a need I am sure is reflected in my own eyes.