Ruthless Secrets (Elites of Macedon High 2)

Chapter One

Parker

Taped to the en suite bathroom mirror is an intrusive message that is exactly the opposite of how I want to start my goddamn day. Not only did someone break into my room, but they had the audacity to leave behind a calling card—literally—that only indicates how deep into the pits of shit the group of us are.

“Sins of the father. Paid by the son.”

Confusion grips me as I march back into my room and sweep my phone from the nightstand. If this is Soren’s idea of a sick fucking joke—

But what I find is equally alarming.

Every one of us received a card at some point during the night—Alex included. Details have yet to be listed, but I can only imagine what we’re being targeted for. Family secrets run aplenty between us, which means just about anyone in one of the main families with enough rage in their blood could have done something like this.

What the hell does it even mean? I despise my father with a vengeance, denying him power every chance I can get. Like hell am I about to pay for something he did. Snatching Alex from beneath him went so well that I had assumed he wouldn’t retaliate.

Then again, he’s a man of high stature with a huge ego. Enough criminals wander through this house during business hours. He could have had any one of his idiots wander up here and tape something to my mirror as a fake threat—or one of them could have decided to take a stab at a mobster’s son. I take my phone with me into the bathroom to inspect the note once more.

With a critical gaze, I pluck the card from the mirror, holding the tape between my eye and the light above the mirror. Not even a fingerprint. Jesus, whoever did this is far smarter than any petty criminal. The card is made of expensive stock, too, the thick kind that only prominent businessmen tend to use for their operations.

No, a small-time robber or henchman wouldn’t do something like this. It’s not my father’s style either. He doesn’t commit sins. He invents them.

I grimace. Osmond wouldn’t talk about himself like that. He’s too proud.

When I hold up my phone, I see a message from Tomas: “Dude, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. We’ll talk later about it,” I text him. I hesitate before sending, “Is Alex okay?”

It pains me to ask, but I can’t help myself. She’s gotten under my skin, the goddamn vixen. She’s sneaky like that. Just when I think I have a handle on things and have got her right where I want her, she puts me in a completely different head space. I can go from ravenous to caring in seconds because of the way she fucking looks at me.

Eyes like hers could make a man go crazy—and I think I feel myself slipping.

I glance at my phone when it dings in my hand.

“She’s okay,” Tomas replies. “She’s shaken, but she’s okay.”

Relief floods my system, and I hate her even more for the response I’m having to her well-being. She’s getting to me. She’s taking up space in my brain. She’s making me feel things that I’m not used to feeling about anyone. I only ever cared about myself for the longest time. How did she manage to change that?

And why do I feel so helpless to stop it?

The sins of my father are a fucking walk in the park compared to resisting Alexandra Moretti.

“Don’t sweat it,” Soren texts with a smiling emoji. “I’m sure our capable little bunny would have defended herself if she needed to.”

I raise my eyebrows.

Oh, he has no fucking idea.

“Sure,” I type. “And I’m a fucking holy man who prays every night.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Soren teases. “Need coffee? Whiskey? Coke?”

“I’ll get coffee on the way.”

“Grab me a latte, will ya, pal?”

My eyelids flutter with annoyance as I set my phone and the card firmly on the counter. I have an hour to kill, and I’m dying for a shower—and a hard jerk session. Once those two things are under my belt, I slide into my bedroom to get ready for the day. After pulling on a pair of dark designer jeans and a baseball-style Macedon High shirt, I slip on black sneakers, grab my bag, and wander into the hallway.

I’m about to pass through the foyer to grab my coat when my father calls for me from his office. I glance over my shoulder, hoping maybe I just hallucinated his voice. He’s the last person I feel like talking to, especially when I have more important shit to go over with the guys. We need to compare notes. We need to see what Alex has to do with this. Is it the families or just us? Or is something else going on?