Page 48 of Ruin Me
“Yeah. I’ll face the consequences of this with my father at some point, not right now, but when he decides to show his face. He can come to me. I’m not chasing him down for this approval, nor his permission.”
“Spoken like a true leader,” Harry says.
“Leader or not, I didn’t come here to play second fiddle to anyone,” I state, feeling that familiar surge of adrenaline. This game of power and influence is intoxicating.
“Then let’s hit them first,” Harry suggests, giving me a slow smile. “A pre-emptive strike.”
“Information is ammunition,” Quentin adds, tapping a pointed finger on his temple. “And we’ve got plenty.”
“Good,” I nod, decisive. “In the meantime, business as usual.”
“Yeah, we’ve got that casino night tomorrow and fuck all has been done,” Callum mutters.
“Then let’s get on that. This is a good time to schmooze and network, and whatever it is you do. We use the event to our advantage. Show everyone The Crowned Syndicate is still in charge.” I glance around at each of them, seeing my determination mirrored in their expressions. My anger has seeped into the room, stirring them. I’m ready for this battle as much as they are.
“We need to be strategic,” Quentin says. “Every move calculated.”
“Agreed,” I nod. “We can’t afford haphazard decisions now. We reel them in with charm and the pretence of normalcy, then strike when they least expect it.”
Callum strides over and cups my face. His touch is gentle and reassuring. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
I look up at him, seeing not just his support but that of all the guys in his statement. “More than anything,” I reply, my voice steady.
Thayer chuckles darkly from where he now stands by the window, looking out into the night. “Well then, let’s get ready to put on a hell of a show.”
As the guys get back on their phones, plans beginto form, and everyone starts buzzing with activity, I realise I’ve truly become a part of something here—something dangerous and binding, and though I never anticipated any of this when I first arrived at Crestmont, there’s no denying it now: I’m right where I need to be.
The Syndicate may have been weakened, but with me at its core, we’re about to become stronger than ever before.
I turn on my heel, and head back to my room. I’ve still got grades to maintain and lectures to attend. I have nothing to offer but words and pep. I’ve got both in spades, but this is their show. I’m just the one with the business degree and analytical mind. I see things others don’t, and make no mistake, The Crowned Syndicateisa business. It’s what drew me to these guys in the first place.
There’s no rest for the wicked, and as I crack open a textbook, my mind wanders. It doesn’t just wander; it fucking sprints down every possible scenario we might encounter in the coming days. Each paragraph I read blurs into strategies and counterattacks, business theories meshing with the dark underpinnings of The Syndicate’s operations.
Midnight ticks by, and my lamp lights up the bedroom with a warm glow. There’s a knock at the door, which brings me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah?”
Thayer sticks his head around the door. “Everything’s on track. We are good to go.”
“Okay, great. You need anything from me?”
“Do you know how to count cards? We need someone who knows that we can trust to keep an eye on things.”
Giggling, I nod. “Actually, yeah. At Westfield, we held card nights frequently, and I taught myself for extra pocket money.” The revelation leaves a cold place in my heart of nights where I was too broke to put the heating on in the middle of winter and lived off a can of soup for three days. This is why it fucking hurts so much that Dad has all of this… and gave me nothing.
I gulp, and my eyes go wide.
“What?” Thayer asks, coming into the room with a concerned expression.
“Dad.”
“Hmm?”
“I just thought of him as dad and not my father.”
He nods slowly and crosses over to me. He kneels and takes my hand in a soft gesture that startles me. “It’s natural. You’re learning about him, picking up his life,thislife in the dark. Your thoughts are shifting. You are more ready to confront him than you think you are.”
“Not likely,” I murmur, staring into his remarkable grey eyes.
