Playboy Princes: A Dark College Romance(11)

“But our parents would kill us, and we’d probably start another World War,” Nolan chimed in, sprawled back on the bed, hands across his flat stomach as his eyes closed.

There had to be a way. “What if we use your technology but pin it on someone else?”

Nolan’s eyes were no longer closed. “How could we get close enough to any of the royals to pin it on them?” he asked, leaning forward. “And even if we did, who are we wanting to take down? Alex, right? Violet has the direct path to him as his future wife.”

“We can’t pin it on a royal,” Mattie reminded him. “It would start the sort of war that none of us need in our lives.”

“What about the resistance?” I suggested. “Could you dummy up a poor man’s version of your technology and then somehow slip it to them? They might just do our job for us.”

Mattie looked a little green under her bronze complexion. “With that technology, they could do a hell of a lot more than just take out satellite networks.”

We all fell silent, trying to think of another solution.

“We’ll work more on it tomorrow,” Mattie finally said, shutting her palm reader down. “I do think we’re on the right track in destroying Claudette. Discredit her monarchy, break down her betrothal, and strip her of her title. That’s our first aim.”

“I plan on killing her and Brandon in the end,” I added casually, standing up to slip my sweater on. “So it’s probably a moot point.”

Mattie didn’t look horrified, and that was why I loved her. “It’s on my list as a possible punishment, but don’t you think there’s just something so delicious about stripping them of everything good in life and making them live like that? Killing them ends the suffering so fast.”

I blinked at her, a rough chuckle escaping. “You’re evil.”

She smiled and shrugged.

Crossing back, I wrapped her up in a tight hug. “I love it. I should just marry you and live at your castle.”

She hugged me back. “I’d marry the fuck out of you, if that were how you rolled. You could be my sister-in-law, though. That would work.”

Nolan wrapped his arms around us both. “A plan I would normally get behind, but I’m not competing with Rafe and Jords.”

“It’s not like that!” I shook my head, shooting a quick, guilty look at Jordan, even as I denied Nolan’s suggestion that I was involved in a love triangle.

I wasn’t.

Right?





Chapter 8





My plan to exact revenge on Brandon didn’t move very fast. Mostly because the fucker was nowhere to be seen. I was half-tempted to create an excuse to visit Dean Morgan just so I could suss out where his son was.

“I think he’s visiting family again,” Mattie said as we walked to the soccer game on Saturday morning. This week had been both hectic and stressful as fuck, but I’d successfully managed to avoid Alex for most of it. I was only going to this game today to support Nolan and Jordan. Otherwise I would be hiding somewhere, figuring out the best places to lure and destroy a few royals. And Brandon. No matter how much he wished it, dude had zero royal blood. He was just a mean spirited bully, and he deserved to be punished.

“Hi, Violet,” a deep voice said from behind me, stopping me in my tracks. I spun around to see an older but familiar face.

“Oh, hey!” I said quickly, smoothing my hands down my jeans. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Dean Morgan keeping you busy?”

Mr. Wainwright smiled, and I was reminded of the first time I’d seen him—in the matron’s office, where my entire life had changed. Was he aware that the ballot was rigged? Had he known what he was dragging me into when he appeared at the orphanage?

Questions I didn’t have answers to… yet.

“Yes, he is,” he said, shaking his head. “There is a lot going on behind the scenes at the moment, and the first school dance is in the works. I’ve been conversing with a few of the royal families, and this year we might have some special guests at the spring ball.”

I quickly shot a look at Mattie, and she rolled her eyes out of Mr. Wainwright’s view.

Yeah, looked like it was going to be your typical school dance.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m glad I caught you. Dean Morgan has requested a progress meeting. He wants to see how you’re settling in.”

Alarm bells tinkled in my head because the timing of this was very convenient—right after I’d found out about everything and tried to break up with Alex. Maybe they’d noticed I was avoiding him? Or maybe this was about Brandon. Either way, it was a good opportunity to gather some information—and I didn’t even have to create an excuse to do so. It was handed to me like fate was giving me exactly what I wanted.

“When does he want to see me?” I asked, annoyed that I might miss the soccer game if it was now. Sure, I’d acted like Mattie had to drag me along, but truth be told, I was turning into a secret superfan of this damn sport.

“Monday morning before class will suffice,” he said. “Just come along whenever you’re dressed and ready. We’ll accommodate you.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’ll be there.”

He nodded before tipping his head to Mattie. “Greetings, Princess Matisse. Hope you have a wonderful day.”

He turned and walked away. Mattie didn’t say a word, but the look on her face was one of distaste. “Never trusted him,” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “He’s hiding something for sure. Don’t go to the meeting without me.”

I shrugged. “I can look after myself.”

She chuckled before tugging me along. “I know you can, but that’s when someone comes at you face to face. These bastards are sneaky. They’ll never be honorable about it, and you’re so new to this world. It’s backstabbing and deception at every turn. Just… make sure you take me along.”

“Sure, sounds like a plan,” I said. I felt better knowing she’d be with me.

We hurried through the academy to the sports arena, and I blinked at the new security detail waiting at the main entrance. Four of them blocked the way, checking every person before they were allowed entry.

We had our bags searched, a quick pat down, and a guard used a scanner, running it across us to detect… something.

“Has there been a threat?” Mattie asked the closest guard, a female, probably ten years older than us.

Her face showed her displeasure at being questioned, especially with the crowd behind us waiting their turn, but she clearly recognized the princess addressing her and thought better of brushing Mattie off.

“Resistance agents have been seen in the area,” she said, her accent mild. “There was also a bombing in an upmarket German street. Dean Morgan felt it was prudent to incorporate more security for these large events.

Mattie’s expression didn’t change with this information; she just nodded and murmured, “Thank you,” before she dragged me into the main stadium. We didn’t chat as she used her epic bitch face and some sharp elbows to secure us our usual seats directly behind our home team.

"So,” I finally whispered. “That was weird. Have you heard anything about the resistance being in the area?”

She swallowed, moving her head much closer to mine. “My parents sent us coded updates that basically advised the new threat level around Arbon is a three. One is neutral, two is caution, three means there’s legitimate concern.”

Great. “This isn’t about the fights?”

She shook her head. “No, definitely not. The fights have been run for years, and nothing weird is happening there, outside of the raids. That side of the resistance is just fun and games; it’s the other side we have to worry about.”

Like we didn’t have enough to deal with.

Deciding not to dwell on it now, I turned away from the security still scanning people and out into the stadium. “Whoa.” I surveyed the crowd. “Big turnout today. Who are we playing again?"

Mattie wrinkled her nose at me. "Damn girl, have you been under a rock lately? We’re playing the Princeton Panthers."

"Oh." My mouth rounded in surprise. "We’re playing a team from New America?"

Mattie nodded. "Yep, and there's some bad blood there with Jordan. He was supposed to attend Princeton, you know?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't know. What happened? I thought all royals came here to Arbon."

"Nope." Her gaze was locked on the field, her eyes tracking the opposing team as they warmed up with drills across the field. "Not all of us. Just lots."

I frowned at her, then followed her line of sight again. She wasn't tracking the team... She was tracking a player.

"Who's number twelve, Mattie?"

Her gaze shot to mine, wide-eyed and guilty, while her cheeks stained pink. "Huh? Why would you ask that?"

I grinned back at her, smug as shit for guessing correctly. "So? Who is he?"

She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the field. "No one. Anyway, what was I saying? Right. Jordan. So every other New American heir has actually attended Princeton since like... forever. Since the Monarch War."