Ruthless Princess (Mafia Royals 1)

“Right, because we already did that, in front of them.”

On my right, Breaker winced. “Technically, Serena did that.”

“Yes, because blaming someone other than yourself raises that person from the dead,” I said dryly as we all got into the elevator.

Claire and Annie were huddled together, staring at Annie’s cell phone. When I looked over their shoulders, my eyes narrowed.

They were looking at a pair of Wyn boots.

Seriously? That’s what had them as thick as thieves? A pair of boots that any one of us could get for free and just toss at her?

Ash’s dad owned Wyn, amongst other things.

I elbowed him and jerked my head down.

He glanced over and smiled wide. “You like the new Wyns?”

Annie paled like he’d just asked if he could lick her boobs. “Um, y-yeah, I mean I could never afford boots like that but—”

“Sure, you could,” Claire piped up. “Ash can get you some.”

Ash gritted his teeth and then forced a terrifying smile toward Annie that had her taking a step toward me, but the minute we touched, she jumped a foot.

Yeah, if she were a De Lange child, I’d put ketchup on Ash’s toe and lick it. The girl was terrified of everything.

“Th-that’s okay. I could never pay you back.”

Claire made a noise. “You don’t need to. His dad owns the company.”

“Surprise,” Ash said dryly.

Breaker elbowed him again and cleared his throat.

Ash shot Breaker the barest hint of irritated glance then turned his attention back to Annie. “What size are you?”

Annie’s eyes went wide as the elevator opened to the top floor. “I’m a seven.”

“And you like the black over the knee stripper ones?” He just had to say it like that.

I held my breath while Annie flinched and then hid her phone back in her purse. “Well, yeah I mean my adoptive mom might freak out but—”

“I like it,” Ash said in a voice that was a bit gruff around the edges. What the ever-loving hell was going on with those two? “I mean…” He shook his head. “A little rebellion is good. Just promise you won’t wear them with a damn cardigan.”

Claire looked between them and beamed. “She won’t, right, Annie?”

“Right.” Annie bit down on her lower lip her big eyes stared through Ash for a few minutes before she whispered. “Thank you for being so nice.”

I’m pretty sure Ash just had a stroke at nineteen.

Nobody called him nice.

He was a cold-blooded killer.

And yet she just gave him a meaningful compliment that I know he felt all the way into his icy soul.

“I’m not nice,” he said in a clipped voice before he followed Tank out into the hall.

The building was new; everything was new.

All the doors had little whiteboards on them that you could write on; it seemed like a typical college dorm.

But as we walked down the hall, I noticed that doors slowly started to open as if word had gotten around that we were on the floor.

My phone pinged.

And sure enough, I’d been tagged on Twitter.

Serena had been tagged on Instagram.

We were suddenly everywhere from people who had taken pictures of us, so it was a lot like walking in slow motion as people jerked open their doors and blatantly stared.

It seemed oddly familiar, at least the students did.

And that’s when I realized.

Every last one of them looked like they could be my cousin.

Serena tensed as Tank stopped in front of his door.

She looked over her shoulder, slowly reaching for the knife in her thigh at the same time I grabbed my gun and held it casually at my side.

Breaker did the same.

Followed by Ash.

They needed to see we were armed even if we were outnumbered five to fifteen.

One of the girls squeaked and closed the door.

It was clearly a co-ed dorm. Great.

A guy who looked about my age stepped out from his room and crossed his arms, hatred dripping in his gaze. He locked eyes with me, and I suddenly felt shame.

The hell?

He shook his head slowly, then mouthed the word. “Traitor.”

I gripped my gun so tight I nearly pulled the trigger.

With a curse, I stomped over to him and slammed him against the wall.

People started screaming around us. “What the hell did you say?”

“You know!” he roared, his eyes blazing. “You’re a traitor to your own blood!” He spat on the floor between us.

I barked out a laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I slowly let him go. “But I’d tread carefully, I’m the one with the gun, and it wouldn’t be wise to fuck with mafia royalty now would it?”

“I’m already dead anyway,” he said in a calm voice. “What difference does it make if you kill me now or later?”

I sighed. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“Then why the hell are you here?” He gritted his teeth. Damn, he looked like family. It was hard to even glance at him.