Page 28 of Chaos & Corruption

“I don’t think every member has the same tattoo. From what I understand the society is huge, any one from a politician to a student can be a member. They say there is a long list of professors and advisors that are part of it too. I don’t know that all of them have tattoos. Maybe it’s something only a select few have.”

“Teardrops,” she whispers.

“What?”

“There was this guy…an enemy of my grandfather’s. He went by the name of Charlie “Teardrops” because he had a jailhouse tattoo right under the corner of his eye. Two tiny teardrops—one for every life he took. I looked it up and it’s not a mob thing but a murderer thing. You don’t see it so much now, but in the eighties—it was big. Maybe the tattoo is like that, maybe you only get it if you’ve committed some sort of crime.”

I’m not going to lie, it’s pretty fucking fascinating listen to her talk about the mob. It’s like I’m watching a movie reel or something.

“How do you know all of this? I know who your grandfather is but weren’t you just a kid?”

Yeah, I looked him up. Victor Pastore had a laundry list of crimes under his belt and eventually turned himself in. I found that odd, especially since the man had beat almost every case against him. But after reading the article about the riot he started in prison right before he died, I sort of figured that was his plan. He turned himself in so he could take out the guy who wronged him.

Like I said, movie shit.

In my internet searches, I learned a lot about Victoria’s dad too and some cousin named Rocco Spinelli who is the alleged boss these days.

“I told you I transferred here because of the pre-law program, Alex. I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass. My father was wrongfully imprisoned, and my grandfather was treated like a dog. People want to talk shit about the mob, they want to create special task forces to take them down, but what about all the other criminals. What about the ones with the badges? The judges that are paid off? The wardens that turn their cheek so a man serving his sentence can get brutally killed—shouldn’t they pay too? Shouldn’t the privileged assholes pay too? Rapists and jerk-off football players who watch. They hear a girl cry for help, they hear her say no and they don’t do a damn thing about it. They stand there with their hand wrapped around their cock, listening to her cry and spread hateful rumors about her instead of helping her. Shouldn’t they pay?”

My jaw clenches as her words sink in.

“Are you telling me that Webber raped someone?”

That someone being her best friend.

“No.” She stares at me and that’s when I notice the tears in her eyes. “Hypothetically speaking, though, it should be a crime for someone to watch someone get raped, don’t you think?”

Webber watched, he watched and then he told everyone she was a slut. That thing about Professor Alcott—oh God.

“You can’t say anything, Alex,” she whispers. “Not a word. If he finds out that you know, or I know—well, I don’t know what will happen. We have to find out of if he’s part of the society.”

She can’t be fucking serious. Then it clicks for me. That thing she said about hanging a man by his balls—that the mob would torture those sick fucks. The girl may have come here with a passion to fix a broken judicial system, but that’s not what she’s after anymore. Victoria is all about vigilante justice and if I’m reading her right, she thinks she’s going to take down Webber and the whole fucking society.

“Victoria…I…you can’t do this. Whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop. The Scorpio Society is untouchable.”

Fucking Webber is untouchable.

“Newsflash, Alex, no one is untouchable. Even the most powerful men can be brought to their knees. The house of cards always comes crashing down, there just has to be someone brave enough to pull the right card.”

Beautiful, intelligent, and out of her fucking mind.

Ten

Victoria Bianci

I thinkit’s safe to say Alex thinks I’m certifiable, and maybe he isn’t wrong, but I’ve somehow managed to convince him to help me, so I’m taking the win.

“What are we looking for?” he questions as he steps aside, allowing me to enter Webber’s room. I shrug my shoulders and start for the desk in the corner of the room.

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “Something that ties him to the society.” Ideally, I’d love to get my hands on his phone, but I know that’s never going to happen.

Unless….

I spin around to face Alex.

“Where do you keep your phone during practice?”

His eyebrows knit together as he uncrosses his arms and pushes off the door. Advancing toward me, he cautiously replies, “In my gym bag inside my locker. Why?”

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