Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Nobody moves an inch from their posts or asks us for identification. I suppose when your father is who he is, you get special treatment. Not only is my father one of the most powerful criminals, he also pours a lot of money into this school.
“So is this a university, or are we walking into some secret society shit?” Ren nudges me with his shoulder.
“Both.”
Either way, a lot of money was put into this place to make it secure. Which, of course, makes it perfect for the type of activities that occur deep underground here.
It would be difficult to even get a satellite to focus here. Not that the government would do that. This place probably doesn’t exist to them… anymore.
A guard escorts us to the entryway through the large bomb-proof doors. Just inside are an identical set of metal doors with the university’s crest edged into it.
The double doors ahead of us open automatically, and Ren and I glance at each other. It’s not an awestruck look that we give each other, but more of a what the hell have we got ourselves into. My father provided us with information for our room and class schedule before we left, so there’s no need for us to stop anywhere or ask where to go next. We move deeper into the building, walking down the long corridor. The floors are polished marble, and the dim lighting gives the place a unique feel—like we’re being marched off to integration instead of our dorms.
Ahead are three elevators. Ren pushes the button, and the doors open immediately. We step inside, and I press the glowing C button, which is the level our room is on.
As the elevator doors open with a bing, Ren nudges me with his shoulder, holding his phone out to me. I look down and see there’s a map on the screen.
“At the end of this hall, we turn right, and our room should be on the left-hand side.”
I shrug. “I studied the map before we left. I’ve got most of this place mapped out in my mind.”
Ren shakes his head. He knows I like to be prepared.
We were each given a key card to get into our room before we left, and it was space we decided to share. We were both given the opportunity to have our own small one-bedroom apartment but decided against it. Ren isn’t the boyfriend type, so all I had to worry about was a random hookup here or there.
Neither of us is interested in anything other than mindless sex.
As we walk down the hall, I notice a few other students in the corridor, but none I recognize by face. As we pass them, I can feel their eyes on us, and I hate it. Hate feeling like they can see right through me, like they know me simply because of who my father is. Everyone knows my name and who my father is, but they don’t know me. No one here knows me, the real me, and it’s going to stay that way.
There might be tons of high-profile criminal offspring in this place, but no one is more powerful than my father, and if that doesn’t scare them, then I certainly will.
2
ASPEN
My back aches, my ass is sore from sitting for so long, and my limbs are stiff. I’m dying to get out of this car and get a good stretch in. Shifting around in the seat, I try my best to get comfortable, but the worn-out seat doesn’t get any softer.
We’ve been on the road for almost five hours without a single stop, not that there is any place to stop or that we are even technically on a road. I haven’t seen any signs of life, at least not human-wise, since we left Takotna, and most of the time, I’m not sure how the driver knows where we are, let alone where we are going.
I wonder if he’s been out here before. According to their welcome packet, most people fly into Corium, but of course when I called to get a seat, there was no room on any of their helicopters, leaving me no choice but to make the grueling trip to the secluded university by car.
The Jeep bounces heavily, and the seat belt digs into my shoulder as we drive over a fallen tree unannounced. I glare at the back of the driver’s head, who didn’t even tell me his name. The middle-aged local with black, uncombed hair and a full bushy beard seems to be just as happy to make the trip as I am. At least he’s getting paid.
“Sorry about that, Miss,” the driver grunts from the driver’s seat.
Wow, that’s the most he’s said to me since we got in the vehicle. Since he’s opened the lines of communication, I figure this is a good time to make sure we’re still on track.