God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(6)

She flips her silver hair back. “Prude? I prefer boundaries.”

“Yawn.” Remi pretends to have fallen asleep. “Wake my lordship up when this nerd starts having a life.”

That’s what Remi calls himself, ‘my lordship,’ because of his noble blood. While everyone else sees it as arrogance, I find it super endearing.

He has the personality of a carefree angel—though Ava and Cecily would argue that he’s a hedonist devil. Remi was one of the first people who warmed up to me instantly and I will never forget that.

“Stop it.” Bran nudges him.

Cecily is ready for round one thousand of bickering but then sees me and backtracks. “Oh, Anni. Are you okay?”

“Totally cool. Physically examined by Ava herself.”

“That’s right.” My friend strokes her cello. “She’s okay from the outside.”

“Do they know who did it?” Cecily asks.

“No idea. You know I don’t get involved in that.” I smile, pulling out my food container.

My OCD can be triggered by tiny, stupid details like how one of my salad containers isn’t at the same level as the others.

My blood pushes against my rib cage and the sounds of the cafeteria start to get drowned out.

I quickly unclasp the containers full of healthy food, organize them in front of me, and only breathe when they’re perfect.

The noise from the outside world slithers back in slowly but surely.

“Who else could it be?” Remi leans back in his chair, sipping from his iced coffee. “Probably the Serpents.”

“Aren’t they from the same uni?” Ava asks. “Our club is more likely to have a beef with them.”

Bran shakes his head. “The Elites aren’t really on bad terms with the Heathens currently. The Serpents, however, were humiliated by them, especially after the last raid on their mansion, and are more prone to take action.”

“This whole thing is too messed up,” Cecily says. “Someone could’ve been hurt in that fire.”

“No one was,” I relay Jeremy’s words. “Don’t worry.”

“Still. I don’t like this.” She chews on her bottom lip, then reaches into her backpack and fishes out a purple pen with fluffy feathers. “I found this in my drawer, and I don’t use it anymore, so I thought of you, Anni.”

I grab it with both hands. “This is so cute, thanks!”

“Anytime.”

The conversation goes on and on about the feuds between the three clubs, two from The King’s U—Heathens and Serpents—and one from REU—Elites.

There are talks about war, rivalry, and payback, but I’m not really paying attention to that.

My gaze keeps flitting to the entrance for a hint of that familiar tall frame. I nearly finish my food, but there’s no sign of him.

No one is talking about him either.

So I beam and ask in a casual tone, “By the way, where’s Creighton?”

“Oh, Cray Cray?” Remi speaks between inaudible slurps. “Probably sleeping somewhere. That spawn of mine said he didn’t sleep much last night.”

I wonder why.

What I also find adorable about Remi’s personality is how he calls Creighton a spawn. They’re cousins from their mothers’ side, but Remi is totally the extrovert who adopted him.

I let them go back to discussing the fire and the clubs’ shenanigans, then say I’ll be back.

I probably won’t, but there’s no harm in a little white lie.

Usually, I’d be on my way to volunteer at the local animal shelter since I don’t have afternoon classes, but I’ll do that later.

After tucking my containers back in my bag, I slip out of the cafeteria and head to the business school. On the way, I greet anyone who says hi or even looks at me.

A part of me knows all these people only want to get on my good side because of my brother’s notorious reputation and my father’s mafia status, but that’s okay.

At least Ava and the others like me for me, and not for my last name.

Despite a few attempts by some students, I don’t stop to chat.

See, I’m on a mission.

It takes me exactly ten minutes to reach the gazebo at the back of business school.

Sure enough, someone is lying on the bench, in the shadows. Hidden from passersby and onlookers.

The only reason I know about this is because Remi offers any information I ask for.

I stop and stare at the gloomy sky that blocks the sun every few seconds as if furious about its audacity to keep peeking through.

The wooden gazebo sits in a secluded area of the back garden where not many students mingle.

Exactly why I figure he likes it here.

Inhaling deeply, I walk as casually as possible. But even if the world can’t see it, I feel the stiffness in my steps. The weight on my chest. The tremor in my lips.

Get it together, me.

The boy who lies on the bench, a leg bent and a hand under his head, looks peaceful.

He’s dressed in jeans that hang low on his hips and a hoodie that’s flung up, revealing a hint of his abs and his V-line.

I swallow, forcing my gaze to focus on his face instead.

That’s totally not a better idea.

His face is nothing less than regal. He has the type of beauty that calls out to you without words. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and defined lips.