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Boring, boring, boring.

I toss my pocketknife up in the air, watching it spin before I catch it. My entire life, I’ve dedicated every spare moment I had to honing my skills. Hacking, fighting, strength training, conversational manipulation—everything I’ll need to maneuver through the secret society of elite criminals my father founded.

Now, it’s time for the next stage: college. I’m ready for the real world—I made sure of it—but higher education is a necessary evil if I’m going to someday inherit my father’s position as leader of the Glass Rooks.

Still, I’m not looking forward to four more years of tedious lectures and dull classmates. I’m itching for something new, something that will pique my interest and hold my attention.

That’s why I’ve been pacing outside my father’s home office for the past ten minutes. When he told me he had a meeting with Pemberton University’s admissions director, I assumed it had something to do with me, but I was dead wrong.

I’m not one for eavesdropping—well, I’m not one for getting caught eavesdropping—but this time around, I’m too invested to care. When Julie stepped into our mansion, she had an odd mix of fear and determination on her face.

That was the first clue that this meeting wasn’t about me. The second was when she tried to flatter my dad to manipulate him into convincing Pemberton’s board to create a brand-new scholarship out of thin air.

We’re only a few days away from the start of classes. I want to know what could possibly motivate a woman to come crawling to Mark Heverly’s door and beg him to do the impossible.

“Please, Mark,” Julie is saying. “Your stamp of approval on this would make a world of a difference. Don’t you want this girl to have a chance at a real life?”

“I take care of my own,” my dad says, sounding as bored as I feel. “Not other people’s fucked-up kids.”

“Please! Giving her a place here for the next four years would change everything for her. She could start a new life, become independent, escape the abuse she’s facing. All it would take is a simple, short phone call.”

My dad sighs. “You and your scholarships. This sounds like a waste of university money to me, so my answer is no.”

“Mark!” Julie exclaims, horrified. “This is a young girl’s life we’re talking about. That cult is killing her.”

A cult? Oh, finally something interesting.

“All I’m asking you to do is put in a good word,” Julie begs. “It’ll take you five goddamn minutes. Can’t you think about someone other than yourself for once?”

“I’m always thinking of others,” my dad says impatiently. “Just not the people you want me to help.”

Frowning, I stare at my pocketknife, tilting it to watch the sun glint off the metal. When I was younger, my dad would’ve pounced on the chance to help someone like this girl. Back then, his generosity knew no bounds.

Over the years, he’s changed. I could blame it all on my mother’s death when I was twelve, but that would be too kind to my father. Whatever happened to him, it wasn’t from grief. Something evil took hold of him, and instead of fighting it, he embraced it.

He’s forgotten why he worked so hard to climb to the top. It was for power, for safety, but also so he could extend those things to others.

I hop to my feet and push into the office. Both my father and Julie look up as I stroll toward them, my hands in my pockets. Mark doesn’t take kindly to being told what to do, so I’ll have to be delicate about this.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” I say. “I know it’s none of my business, but Dad, could this help you dodge Grayson’s complaints?”

Julie glances at me. “What? Who?”

“That’s not important to you,” Dad says.

He’s frowning, but I don’t see that as a negative thing. It’s his go-to thinking face, which means he’s truly contemplating what the effects of helping this girl could be. Greg Grayson has accused him of losing his touch, of not caring enough about the members of the Glass Rooks. A grand act of generosity could get him to shut up.

“Please,” Julie begs. “Just this once? You pull a lot of weight in this town, especially at Pemberton. If you say you want this, it would change the board’s mind immediately.”

Even though I know he’s already made up his mind, my father lets Julie sit in silence for a minute. Then, with his eyes on me, my father smiles. “I’ll do more than put in a good word. I’ll fund it.”

Julie’s jaw drops. “Mark, I—oh my goodness. That’s so much more than I was asking. Thank you.”

Dad nods. “We’ll get all the details ironed out tomorrow. Have a good evening. Colton will walk you out.”

With another thank you, Julie gets to her feet, and I lead her through our mansion. At the door, she places a hand on my arm. I’ve only met her once or twice—not enough for her to touch me like this—but I fight the urge to shove her away.

“She’s never experienced life outside the cult, and I don’t have time to guide her through every aspect of the real world,” Julie says. “All I’ve ever heard is that you’ve grown up to become such a nice young man. She’ll need someone like you. A friend to look out for her.”

I plaster on a smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want her to end up with the wrong crowd.”

Julie pulls a photo out of her wallet. “Here, I have a picture of her.”

It’s of a girl around my age looking up at a stained glass window in a church. She’s dressed modestly, but it doesn’t hide how pretty she is.

My thumb traces over her face. Her brown hair falls down her back in waves, and she has honey-colored eyes and soft, delicate features. I bet when she smiles, she lights up the whole goddamn room.

Except she’s not smiling. She’s staring at the window like it’s a locked door to a cage, and she’s trapped inside. Going off what Julie told my father, that’s probably not too far off from the truth.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Julie asks.

“Very.” I keep my eyes trained on the photo. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.”

“Have a good day, then, Julie.”

“Thank you,” she says again before descending the steps. “I’ll let you know which dorm hall she’s in once I get her here.”

I still haven’t looked up from the photo when I hear Julie’s car door slam. There’s something about this girl that’s downright captivating.

When Julie pulls out of the driveway, I slip the photo into my pocket. It burns, and I want to take it out and get a good look at her again, but it’s safer to keep it hidden away.

I step back inside and close the front door. My father is waiting for me in the foyer, leaning against the archway that leads into the living room. Even though he’s done with work for the day, he still hasn’t loosened his tie or done a single thing to relax.

Always the picture of a strong, intelligent, resolute man.

“What’s your angle, son?”

I shrug. “Boredom.”

He narrows his eyes with suspicion. “That’s it?”

“I’m tired of being surrounded by spoiled rich kids.”

“You are a spoiled rich kid,” he says flatly.

“Exactly! There’s truly no escape. I just want a little variety. Where’s the harm in that?”

My father sighs. “Fine. But don’t get too attached. You still have responsibilities, and I expect you to fulfill them when the time comes.”

Irritation floods my body. He’s talking about the future he has planned for me. I’m ready and willing to go through with all of it—taking over his businesses, leading our society when he retires, et cetera—except for marrying the girl he picked out for me.

I’m not doing that shit. I’d rather die than get married.

But all I do is smile at my father and nod. “I know, Dad. This won’t change any of that. I promise.”