Page 52 of The Queen's Vow (Ruthless Games 2)

THIRTY-ONE

SEBASTIEN

I hadn’t stepped footon the grounds of St. Mary’s Prep since Graduation Day ten years ago. I’d been the happiest guy alive. On my way to Harvard with the most beautiful girlfriend a few hours away at Yale. I’d never even wanted another woman. While guys in Cambridge were banging anything on two legs, lying to girlfriends back home, I had no oats to sow. No score to settle.

Becca was it for me. Back then, I’d foolishly thought her father would let her marry me.

“Why are we not just sending someone in there at night?” Anthony sat on the long bench of the limo, flipping his knife case from one hand to the next.

I frowned from the rear seat. “Smash and grab?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“When was the last time someone broke in anywhere and didn’t leave a trace?” Giancarlo swiped an iPad sitting further down from me. “That’s why this is more effective.” He held up the device.

“Do we have an appointment?” Anthony asked.

I rolled my eyes. As usual, he made me do the heavy lifting. “Beth called yesterday. We’re here to talk about making a donation.”

Anthony nodded, seeming impressed. “That will get you on the headmaster’s schedule.”

“And a tour hopefully,” Giancarlo added.

I turned to him. “Gian, since Anthony and I attended the school, we’re gonna distract the headmaster. You hang back and case the joint.”

“Got it,” he said.

“Oh, the one time his hacking skills are useless, he still gets to be the hero? Finding Julian’s records.” Messina shook his head. “No. Me. I’ll do it.”

“This is not a contest, Messina,” I snapped at him. “I need your charm on this one.”

He glared at me. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Here we go...” Gian muttered and took earbuds out of his suit jacket.

“You and Rebecca and even him,” Messina pointed to Gian, “still think of me as some manwhore.”

An answer didn’t come to me. With his father and Becca’s father making a deal for her to marry Anthony, he never had to win her over. And talk about sowing oats, whatever the fuck that expression meant... Anthony had exhausted himself of nearly every woman on the island of Manhattan. “What I think of you in that regard is irrelevant. But I know my Becca.”

“My Becca,” Anthony sneered.

“Our Becca,” Gian singsonged in a low murmur.

“My point, Messina.” I pushed off the seat and straddled him on the bench.

Anthony melted under me. “Yeah?” His fingers dug into my thighs.

“Guys, not here.” Gian closed his eyes.

“Fuck you,” I snapped at him. “You’re part of this relationship. Anthony and I are lovers. You don’t like it, leave. We can keep Becca plenty satisfied.”

“Sorry.” He held up his hand. “But finish what you were saying, I’m curious how you’re gonna make him feel less like a manwhore.”

I gripped Anthony’s chin. “I know Rebecca. She loves you.” I swiped my lips across his. “She’s got high standards and great taste. If you convinced her you’re all in here, that’s good enough for me, too.” I hoped this visit back to St. Mary’s was one step closer to getting her back.

Anthony and I melted into a heated kiss and my cock grew painfully hard, but with Gian a few feet away, I stopped tonguing Messina and went back to my seat. He’d be at my place later where he’d been showing up every night. Working me, pumping me, milking me, and me returning the favor to relieve the stress.

We reached the school and the headmaster waited for us in the parking lot. An assistant languished at his side. A pretty woman in her twenties. Her jaw dropped seeing us exit the limo. I elbowed Messina and whispered, “Use that charm to keep her occupied, okay?”

“Sebastien Daria,” the older man with severe balding on the crown of his head greeted us with a smile full of yellow teeth. “Headmaster Williams.”

When Anthony, Becca, and I went to school here, we swore fealty to Headmaster Bowen. Oh, right... And Julian.

Semper Amici.

“Headmaster.” I shook his hand. “This is Anthony Messina Jr. And Giancarlo Byrne. Giancarlo grew up in Boston.”

“Is that right?” Headmaster Williams shook their hands. “What school did you attend there? I’m quite familiar with their preparatory academies.”

“Warren-Prescott,” he answered stoically.

“Oh, public school.” The headmaster nodded.

I didn’t know that about Giancarlo. His father had been a working thug and Angelo Bianco had cut Gian’s mother off. If anyone ever doubted Francesca Bianco had married for love, one only had to imagine her and Patrick Byrne in a small Charlestown apartment. Now they lived in a three-story mega penthouse on Park Avenue. Francesca got rewarded for that love choice years later, supporting the man who took over her father’s failed kingdom after he was murdered.

“I also went to MIT,” Giancarlo boasted.

“Oh, a scientist.” The headmaster looked from him to me. “And a Harvard lawyer. And you, Anthony?”

“Anthony went to NYU. He’s a sharp and shrewd businessman. Messina Associates is on top because of him.” I loved bragging about him and his smile said he liked it too.

God... If... If... If Becca disappeared forever, could Anthony and I still have each other? A thought I’d have to consider after getting over the pain.

We reached the headmaster’s office and the woman, who still looked shocked, sat in a chair off to the side. Williams clamored on about what other alumni had given to the school over the years and proudly where the money went. Whatever this guy wanted as far as a donation he was getting from us.

I snuck glances at Giancarlo, who looked around the office with dark wood and hazy light streaming through. A low credenza sat behind the headmaster’s desk under the windows. Where the hell would they keep records from more than ten years ago?

“I failed that class,” I said when the headmaster began discussing the chemistry lab.

“I doubt you failed anything, Mr. Daria.”

“Felt like it, it was so fucking...” I cleared my throat and looked at his assistant. “Excuse me. Hard.”

She ran a pen across her lips. No way would I seduce a woman to get this info.

“Yeah, Daria, I don’t think you failed.” Messina sat back, smiling. “Care to make a wager?”

Shrewd.

My family’s gambling empire operated mostly underground. “There’s only one way to solve it. Headmaster, can you look up our records on your computer?”

“Sure, sure.” He turned to the desktop.

Giancarlo smiled at me, catching on. He took out his iPad, probably sending a signal to hack into that computer.

“What year did you graduate again?” Williams asked.

When I answered him, the assistant stood and said, “We took those records offline.”

“Really?” I asked, frustrated. “Why?”

“No need.” She shrugged. “Seven-year retention rule expired.”

Or maybe nearly every student who graduated from this very exclusive prep school now had a hand in something unsavory.

“So how do we settle our bet?” I sat back and crossed my legs.

“I have old records in a file cabinet outside Headmaster’s office.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “No class was bigger than fifty students.” Her eyes stayed on me as she sauntered by me and into the waiting room outside the headmaster’s suite.

I kicked Giancarlo, who stood as well. “My signal sucks in here. No offense, Headmaster. I’m gonna step out while these two settle the score.” He lingered in the assistant’s office, making small talk with her.

She came back with our files and Giancarlo winked at me.

“Let’s see here...” The headmaster opened my file and I typed a quick text to Gian.

Grab all of our files, me, Becca, and Anthony in addition to Julian’s.

I didn’t like our personal information was so easy to get.

Gian nodded.

“Mr. Daria... You got an A in chemistry.” He looked at me strangely.

“Oh, right. I forgot.” I opened my wallet and handed Anthony a one-hundred-dollar bill.

“Anyway.” The headmaster sat back. “We have plans for a massive renovation and expansion of our gymnasium. Many students are going out for sports scholarships these days.”

Instead of being mafia thugs...

I stood up. “Let’s go see the gym. I’d like to hear the plans.”

His pasty skin gained some color and he stood too. Buttoning his suit jacket, he said, “I think that’s a fabulous idea.”

“Messina, come on.” I whacked him in the chest.

When the assistant hung back, I grew anxious. We needed her out of her office so Gian could grab our records. Fuck, here’s where I had to be a dick.

“Aren’t you joining us?” I said to her, with a wolfish grin.

Catching her breath, she said, “If it’s okay with the headmaster.”

Williams looked at me as I peered at the assistant, adding shit up. Like if I said I’d throw in an extra hundred thousand if I could fuck her on his desk, he’d let me. Maybe even hold her down for me.

No. She didn’t need to be held down. And I couldn’t even think of fucking another woman. Rebecca on this desk? Jesus, that made me so hard.

“Sure, Maryn.” The headmaster waved to her. “Please join us.”

We made our way to the hallway and my anger flared when I saw her lock the office door. I glanced at Gian who signaled with his eyes: No problem.

His father had probably taught him and his brother Salvatore how to pick locks before they could walk. “I need to stay here where my signal is strongest. Waiting for a report to be sent to me. I’ll meet you back here.”

Gian not attending school here made it plausible that he had no interest in any reminiscing about the grounds.

The trophy case seemed so much smaller, even though I stood nearly as tall now as I did when I went to school here. I’d grown broader for sure. I played baseball and ran track. Never won an award though, my name meant shit at this school because my father was poor and I got in here with an outreach scholarship. The administration felt no need to shower me with useless trophies to make my family happy.

The smell of the halls shot me back to happier days of Becca and I. When our young love blossomed into something I thought would last forever. Then the memory of Anthony tagging along with us non-stop, tempting us to be wicked crashed in not too long after.

Never in my wildest, naïve mind did I imagine what we’d evolve into. How Becca’s father promised her to Anthony, forcing me to break up with her. Starting my five-year descent into madness, unleashing Bastien the Bastard, the ruthless monster everyone in our world saw on the outside. The self-mutilator behind closed doors. I’d had the urge to take to the knife again this past week, but Anthony kept me sane.

We reached the gym and Williams droned on and on about the expansion plans. If he had to convince someone to donate money, he failed horribly.

Two minutes later, Gian stood outside the double doors, leaning against the frame, one foot crossed at the opposite ankle. He smiled stupidly and then yawned, reaffirming my relief that bastard was on my side. So long as I let him keep fucking Becca.

No... I wasn’t letting any of this happen. She chose all of us. I agreed to be part of the alliance she created with the four of us.

I held up my phone and waved it in Gian’s direction. He nodded and took out his. A moment later, my phone rang. “Oh, I need to take this.” I stepped away and then faked an emergency. “Messina, we have to go.” Putting my phone away, I said, “You’ll have a check from my foundation in a week.” I shook the headmaster’s hand.

His cheek quirked and I could tell he wanted to ask how much. “Thank you.”

“Have your...assistant email my assistant.” I handed her a business card that only included Beth’s phone number. “And tell her how much you need to make this happen. I’ll cover your remaining balance.”

“We’ll cover it,” Anthony said, crossing his arms.

“Right. We’ll get you to your goal, Headmaster.”

“That is so generous of you boys.” He wrung his hands. “Men. Excuse me.”

“No problem.” I put my wallet away. “Nice meeting you.”

Back in the limo, Gian pulled out four thick folders he’d shoved down his pants. I reached forward and grabbed mine. “No offense, Gian, I don’t want you knowing my social.”

Giancarlo rolled his eyes and handed Messina his file, saying, “Because then you’ll have to kill me?”

“Something like that.” My eyes stayed on Becca’s records in his lap.

“When we get Becca back, I’ll ask her what she wants me to do with this.” He opened the file and grinned.

“Hey, don’t you use anything in there.” Anthony leaned forward, looking ready to snatch it.

“Listen very carefully.” Gian’s voice got low. “If I need something in here to help me bring her home, I’ll use it.”

“Fine.” I sat back.

“Now get me back to my computers at the Warwick, so I can plug in this prick’s social and find out where the hell he is.”

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