Page 26 of Play Dirty (Villalargos University #1)

Chapter Twenty

Nico

T he last thing I want to do today is party and mingle... Or fuck. I definitely don’t want to do that, but the thing is, when you are leashed and owned, you don’t really have a choice. I’m expected to perform.

I’m expected to play.

And like the fucking good boy I’ve been molded into…. I obey.

Begrudgingly, I look at the all black suit that lies perfectly on my small bed.

From the bathroom, I can hear Thiago as he fucks his hand.

He thinks the water can tune out the sound of his vicious strokes or the way he grunts.

The walls are paper fucking thin, and I can hear everything, but this helps him relax before we are expected to play the part.

My eyes dart between the bathroom door and the box where June's phone remains tucked away, when curiosity wins.

Walking over to the box, I remove the lid and grab the phone, turning it on.

I chew my bottom lip as I wait for the screen to come on, and when it does, my heart squeezes.

A picture of June and Shiloh as kids fills the screen, both girls covered in paint, holding their hands up.

A smile spreads across my face, and a warm sensation spreads through me as my vision begins to blur.

My thumb brushes over June’s little face.

My smile flickers—then dies. Because I remember how this ends.

June’s gone. Shiloh hates me. And I’m still here, breathing guilt like it's ai r. I failed her. Just like I failed my sister. And that’s the guilt that was heavy in my heart.

The regret… I wasn’t there to protect them.

Sitting on the corner of the bed, I begin to scroll through her phone.

Not sure what I’m looking for, so I start with her apps.

Nothing out of place for her, then I notice the messages.

My heart aches when I find all the missed calls and unanswered texts from Shiloh.

Noticing the lack of mine— what a winner I am.

I couldn’t bring myself to read through the thousands of messages between Shiloh and June. It felt like an invasion of privacy. When I exit their thread, I notice there’s a message from D, but it’s been deleted. Who the fuck is the D?

Quickly, I grab my phone from my pocket and add the number. When the phone glitches, the screen places me right on Tatiana's message.

The last answered message…

10:10pm

June

Here.

Before I can make sense of it all, the water turns off, and quickly I chuck the phone back into the box and finish getting ready for tonight, when my phone goes off.

Zayden

U two are needed. Basement.

Thiago steps out of the bathroom, steam and water still clinging to his skin. “Hurry, we are needed.”

“The club?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” He asks.

I shrug, holding up m y phone to show that I haven’t replied back. “You haven’t heard anything? Things have been quiet. Which is odd.”

Focusing back on my phone, I watch from the corner of my eyes as Thiago's hand runs down his face. He’s hiding something. Before I can ask, he lets out a deep sigh while plopping onto the black leather sofa.

“It’s not quiet. Things aren’t looking too good.”

I stop mid-text, “What are you talking about?”

“Someone is blackmailing my father and everyone else. Nico, they have tapes of what happens behind the red doors.”

My stomach flips.

Bile rises up my throat.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“What? You’re telling me this now?” I stand, the desire to put his head through this fucking wall overpowers any reasoning. “How long have you known, Thiago?” I snap. My hand wraps around his throat, and his hazel eyes widen.

“Ni-Nico,” he chokes out, tapping my hand as I apply more pressure.

Finally, I let go, shoving him to the ground. “Zayden is right about you.” He flinches; the blow lands right where it hurts. “Just like your father, looking out for yourself at all costs.”

“That’s not fair.” He says, rubbing his neck as he rises to his feet. “I had no choice.”

I inhale deeply, opening and closing my hand, chasing the need to kill him with my bare hands away. “There’s always a choice, and you always seem to pick the easy one. Or do you not get the choice to fuck Z?”

His eyes water now, shame flashes across his face as I shine light on his biggest secret…

And instantly, I regret it. It was unfair —I know he doesn’t enjoy the things he’s forced to do.

Like us, he’s a pawn, just use d in a different way.

He’s privileged, and this right here is a reminder.

The proof of the things we are forced to carry.

We don’t speak as we finish getting ready…

I can’t even look at him. The anger inside me only grows, gathering into a storm of emotions, twisting and eating me from within.

Hopefully, in the basement, there’s something besides pussy to help relieve some of it.

If I’m going to pound into something, I'd rather it be one of those assholes’ faces.

Not some random girl that I’ll be forced into breaking.

By the time we get to the club, music blares from inside…

expensive cars decorate the driveway. We move towards the back— hidden from view and still very much not talking.

When we get to the double storm doors in the back, I knock softly three times to signal my arrival.

Wyatt is the one who opens the door, dressed in all black, with a trident pin and a gold opera mask.

One and the same for tonight…

As we descend the wooden steps, the stench of urine and iron fills the air along with the smell of cigars, tangled with high-end cologne.

My stomach c hurns, my skin breaks out in small goosebumps.

My fucking body warns me of his presence before I can spot him amongst the elite surrounding the man sitting in the middle.

A small light swings, creaking under pressure. The man is wearing some kind of sack to cover his face, head hanging low as Wyatt cleans the wounds on his knuckles. “What’s going on?” I mutter, trying to find out who the fuck that is and why the fuck I am here.

“That’s the coach.” I swallow hard, my eyes darting to the man tied up to the chair. I knew he wasn’t any good, but was he the one behind it all? “What did he do?”

Wyatt snickers, putting down the gauze he’s using to clean off the blood. “Turns out he wanted a little power along with Xavier. Power push with the Santorellis.”

I narrow my eyes. The Santorellis used to be big shots in Villalargos until some woman came between them, causing them to split and help fund Villalargo's rival school, Costa Mar University. However, I’m still not understanding, but before I can manage to speak, Mr. J's voice rings out from behind me.

“Nico, come here.” He uses his hand to motion me closer.

Zayden is in the corner, glaring at Thiago and Ezra, who stand on the opposite side, masks on, just like their daddies.

Moments like this are when the truth tastes so sour that I can’t see anything but the huge wall that divides us.

The rich from the filth. “I have a job for you during the hunt. I need you to take down Asher.”

“Come again?” I ask, not understanding what he’s asking of me— because he can’t be asking me to kill someone.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll beat the shit out of any of them— they deserve it.

All of them. But killing? Nah, that’s where I draw the line.

“Don’t look at me like I asked for your kidney.

I need you to hurt him. Just enough for him not to play this Saturday.

The coach here wanted to blackmail us into his victory. ”

My stomach sinks… so it was him.

“Why wo uld Asher be here, sir?” I ask, looking down at the coach and not the man standing beside him. A cloud of smoke drifts my way, invading my small bubble, causing my throat to constrict and my blood pressure to spike.

My hands involuntarily form fists. Wanting nothing more than to smash them into his face over and over. He chuckles, stepping away from Coach Jensen and moving closer to me. His hand tugs my short strands, forcing me to look into his eyes.

Those frosty orbs stare back at me… haunting and claiming.

“Because someone is letting him in, one of you.”

I swallow hard. “One of us?”

“Only members have access. Who else could it be? Luckily for you, I already know who it is, and Zayden will handle it.”

I look over at Zayden, who is already walking behind Thiago and Ezra to find the traitor amongst us. “Look at me, boy.”

And I do.

My body snaps to obey. “My daughter is amongst the petals. More than likely, he will go after her.”

Aren’t they together?

I want to ask, but instead I force myself to stay quiet and let him continue. “Jensen here said he has someone inside with the girls. Find Shiloh, don't let that asshole get more ammo for them to use.”

“So, I’m supposed to guard Shiloh or fuck Asher up?”

He slaps me hard across the face, causing my ear to ring and the burn in my face to be sharp. The taste of copper fills my mouth, and I spit a mixture of blood and saliva to the ground.

“Don’t be smart, or I’ll find better use for your mouth. Do what you need to do to stop him. Wyatt will deliver him back to where he belongs. You make sure Shiloh stays put.”

My jaw ticks.

At least I won’t be fucking anyone, and I get to beat the asshole I’ve been wanting to fuck up since the moment I watched him touch her in the garden years ago. I hate the guy for simply existing and only held back because I needed to.

This is great. A grin spreads across my face when I’m released and allowed to leave the room. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out and read the message.

Anonymous

Not a smart move.

I scan the area, trying to see if I notice anything out of place, apart from the petals lining up for pictures; it’s all the same.

And I mean the same all fucking black attire, golden fucking trident pins to the pocket, and golden masks to cover our faces.

The women are also dressed in the same pink pale dresses and hair braided with tiny pink roses woven throughout.

The only difference is their masks. While ours covers the entirety of our faces, theirs only covers half.

Amongst the girls, I spot her.

Recognizing the plumpness of her lips and the defined heart shape of her cupid’s bow. As long as I know where the mouse is, I can find the cat.