Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“I don’t,” he says point-blank. “Call him.”
“He’s not used to me calling him.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind it this once since he’s so nice and such a gentleman.” I don’t miss the way he stresses the words I mentioned.
Ah, crap.
I try to buy as much time as possible as I scroll to find Bran’s name while hoping Maya will pop in here already.
She’s always invading my space, but not this time. She’s probably hiding so Niko won’t grill her for answers. The little traitor.
When I take longer than necessary, Nikolai snatches my phone and types ‘Bran’ in the search bar. When the only contact with that name appears, he presses Call and hits the speaker button.
My heart nearly hits the floor as the ringing sound echoes in the air.
Don’t answer.
Don’t answer.
Please.
Please—
“Hello?” Bran’s slightly husky voice sounds in the air as if he was woken up from a nap. “Mia? Are you okay with calling?”
I release a deep breath and catch a glimpse of my brother giving me the side-eye.
The horror.
“Mia?” Bran sobers up. “Is something wrong? Make any form of noise if you need help—”
“It’s her brother, Nikolai.”
Bran goes silent for a few tense beats and I nearly piss myself. This is going too bad too fast.
“Right.” Bran clears his throat and sounds detached, cold, even. “What can I help you with?”
“My sister tells me she spent the night with you three days ago.”
“Spent the night with me?”
“Is that not the case?”
Damn Niko. He makes it sound as if I slept with him or something.
“We met, but she didn’t spend the night with me in that sense.”
Yes, Bran. Thank you.
“What were you doing?”
“I’m sure you can ask your sister that.”
“I did, and I’m trying to decide whether or not I’ll lock her up based on your reply.”
Silence again.
Poor Bran is being dragged into an unfair situation that he didn’t agree with.
“We played a few games,” he replies casually.
“Where?”
“In a gaming café.”
“Which one?”
“The only one on the island. Play Dungeon.”
“With who?”
“Alone.”
I nearly stagger. He did everything right, as if I’d told him all the details, but he missed on the last one.
“Alone,” Nikolai repeats with a sly smirk.
“Yes. We were the only ones who played. Maya was there, but she was too preoccupied with her phone most of the time.”
My man.
I’m totally buying Bran the new League of Legends merch.
“If there isn’t anything else…” Bran trails off and then hangs up.
I smile at my brother triumphantly and sign, “It’s not good to distrust your own siblings. We need to work on these bad habits, Niko.”
“You’ll stay away from that bunch of little fuckers.” He pushes the phone against my chest. “Brandon included.”
And then he leaves. Gee. Talk about pissed off.
But oh well. This is still a win.
Now, I need to thank Bran personally and hope—no, pray—I never see his psycho brother again.
4
MIA
Since meditation in the house is virtually impossible, I had to come up with an alternative.
The chess club downtown.
We have a chess club in The King’s U, but they don’t provide me with a challenge anymore. Besides, I might have kicked the club’s president in the shin for calling Maya an attention whore.
So what if she likes to dress up and show off her body? It’s none of his damn business.
As is obvious by now, I don’t react well to people hurting or bad-mouthing my family. Besides, that damn president knows shit about our lives and the type of pressure and danger we’ve had to navigate through since we were kids.
Maya is an independent girl who loves dressing up and showing off her beauty. She definitely wasn’t looking for that scum’s attention.
Naturally, I was blacklisted from the club, despite being the best they had. Anyway, I was able to join the local chess club a few weeks ago after seeing a few flyers outside our dorm building.
There are some decent older players, but many of them come to gossip, as if it’s some sort of knitting club.
Anyhow, since chess and meditation help me quiet down my demons, this is my last resort.
I also love looking after plants, but I’ve been hesitant to have any here. It’d feel like I’m cheating on my pretty flowers back home.
Point is, I really can’t get myself kicked out again or I’m in trouble. In my family, I can only play chess with Gareth, but he’s busy with studies lately.
I walk down the street, ignoring the looks everyone gives me. Today, I went back to my signature look—an ample black dress with a fluffy tulle skirt, chunky boots with chains, and matching ribbons in my hair. Oh, and killer blue-mirror sunglasses.
What? It makes me feel like the villain.
Many call this a goth look, but, really, it’s not. Nor is it my Satan worshiper look—I’m out of that loser’s league. I also don’t wear black makeup. In fact, my only makeup is pink lipstick and mascara. If I’m in the mood for mayhem, like that day in the Elites’ mansion, I add bold eyeliner.