24. Chapter 24

Jade

Alawn party is something I thought rich ladies threw to drink tea and gossip. But this is something else entirely.

The courtyard isn't as cool as the one by the ruins, but I kind of like that the party isn't there. That place feels special—like it's mine and Dmitri's. This is like a beach party just north of the beach, definitely not fitting for the old, ethereal feel of the ruins.

This place is closer to the beach, giving the whole party an ocean and black sand beach backdrop. It's way too chilly today to get into the water, but thankfully it doesn't look like anyone is drunk enough to jump in any time soon. It seems like half of the student body is here, and half of them have some kind of alcohol in their hands.

Tobacco, wine, and beer are all permitted on the academy grounds, but I'm not sure how much of this was brought here over on the ship. I bet Dmitri would know.

My stomach flutters at the thought of him. He isn't here today, at least not that I can see. But Ivan is, and he's sitting on a bench with Dustin Wyatt. The two of them are hardly making conversation; they look more awkward than naturally paired together, but neither of them truly stands out. I only notice because I wish I could go say hi.

"Well," Matteo prods, standing at my side. "What do you think?"

I don't really know yet.

"It's something."

At least we don't have to wear our uniforms on weekends. I would feel weird as hell wearing a skirt and tights around this atmosphere. Matteo's crewneck and my wool-lined leggings are the only reason I'm not shivering.

"Ugh," he complains. "Dad produced way too many party haters."

"Awww," I coo, patting his arm. "There, there, Matteo. You're just the most fun, the rest of us can't possibly compete."

He softens up like a little pile of goo. "You think so?"

"I speak the truth."

Matteo smirks, bumping his shoulder with mine. "Does that mean I can actually throw you a party for your nineteenth?"

I'm not sure that Matteo will ever get over the devastation of me not wanting a big thing for my eighteenth birthday. He understood, of course. I'd just arrived, and every last bit of my trauma had been out in the open. No one, including me, was in a very partying mood. Martha still baked me a cake—she could not be talked out of it—and she sang me a birthday song in Italian that made my eyes water. It was the best birthday in my entire life. There was no need for a party or presents.

Though no one got the memo on the presents bit. I still haven't unwrapped every gift my father and Uncle Cesar got for me. Most notably, a freaking car that I am too scared to drive on my own, but Matteo taught me how right away. Driving is an important survival skill, apparently. Even if I know enough to drive myself away from trouble now, my hands still shake when I take the wheel. I mean, it's a Lexus.

I looked up how much those things cost, and driving around a car that's worth more money than I ever expected to make as a salary is crazy. The worst part is, that was the cheapest vehicle Dad would even consider. According to all of my stubborn brothers, it's safe, and there's no way to talk our father into returning it.

"I suppose you can throw me a party," I concede, selfishly loving the bright smile that beams on his face as a result. Matteo's happiness is some of the most contagious joy in the world. His smile makes you smile.

"If you promise to always have my back, even if I do something to piss you off."

Matteo scoffs. "Duh. You're my little sister, I've always got you."

"Even if I piss you off," I repeat, holding up my pinky. "You'll still have my back?"

He looks at my finger, eyebrows pulling in. "Did you already do something to piss me off?"

I shrug, giving him a defiant look. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Matteo cracks up, hooking my pinky with his. "Alright, I promise. But I'm not promising to be happy about it."

"Deal."

He chuckles. "Deal."

"So," I hum, looking around the small sea of bodies. "What do we do?"

"Well, we're not drinking," he grumbles, kicking a small rock away from his feet. "Gotta be honest that's like half of the appeal of these things. Getting drunk and maybe hooking up with someone you shouldn't. And both of those are off the table, so."

"Now I know why no one wanted to come with you," I joke.

"Screw those guys," he huffs. "We're going to have fun."

He's stubborn but his positive outlook is so endearing.

"We could play cards," I offer, nodding to the small table of people doing just that.

Matteo hesitates. "Losing sucks and Ares is running that thing. You don't run a gambling empire without learning how to win constantly."

Fair enough. But— "You know, I bet we could beat him if we played together."

A mischievous grin splits his lips. "You want to cheat?"

"Isn't he cheating?" I shrug. No one wins constantly without counting cards or rigging the deck. I think. "Seems only fair."

"Alright," Matteo replies, sounding happier. "Let's check it out."

When we get to the table, it's down to Ares and one other player. The rest of the players have gone silent to watch how the round plays out.

"They're playing Lie," Matteo whispers. "You try to get rid of your cards the fastest, and sometimes you lie about the cards you're putting down. If someone calls out your lie, you lose."

"It's a bluffing game," I say quietly. "I've seen it in a movie before."

"Lie!" someone calls out.

It's the last player with cards at the table, attempting to stop Ares from his win. He's wrong though, I can tell by the sparkle in the man's eyes. He's won, and proves as much by flipping his discarded cards over, revealing the truth in his claim.

"Better luck next time," Ares coos, causing the losing man to growl.

He shoves back from the table, tossing his cards down and storming off.

"You next, new girl?" Ares asks, his eyes narrowed right on me.

Calling me ‘new girl' is a bit rude considering we've met.

"Don't be a dick," Matteo warns, crossing his arms.

"Okay," Ares says, smirking. "Do you want to go next, Jade?"

The suggestive way he purrs my name has Matteo stiffening.

"What the fuck?" my brother snarls, face screwed up in disgust. "Don't talk to her like that, it's way worse."

"That's why he did it," I tell him, rolling my eyes. "Have you lost yet today?"

"No," he states plainly. "Why? Want to be the first to beat me?"

"I just think it's interesting. The probability of winning a game of luck and guessing with no losses is hard to believe."

His eyes narrow. "I'm a good liar."

"So am I."

He chuckles. "Yeah? You learn how in class this semester?"

"No, actually," I say, lifting my chin slightly. "My brother taught me."

"This one?" Ares asks curiously.

My head shakes. "Apollo," I reply, loving the surprise in Ares' reaction.

Not what he was expecting, clearly. I won't pretend Apollo has had nearly enough time to coach me into being the stellar liar that he is, but he's shown me a lot. And yes, deception class has given me some great practice.

Arching a brow, I ask, "Still want to risk your winning streak?"

I don't expect him to smirk. "I like a challeng?—"

A cackling laugh and my brother's name steals my attention, my head whipping to the side to find the source. When I set my sights on the offender, my blood begins to boil. Oh, I'm going to kill her.

"Did you hear that?" I seethe, grabbing Matteo's arm. I need to know that he just heard what I just heard because surely I must be mistaken.

"Ignore it," he says, rolling his eyes.

There's no fucking way I'm ignoring it.

She's close enough that I don't need to stomp over to her, I can call her out from right here, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. She's stupid enough to come to me.

"What the fuck did you just say about my brother?"

Clara Bell's head snaps around to find me. It takes a lot to hold myself back from charging over and hitting her immediately. The way her face sours at the sight of me makes my blood boil.

"Trouble hearing?" she snarks, looking me up and down like prey.

I'm not fucking prey. Not for her.

Her and her little band of buddies slowly approach, leaving a girl behind. Likely the one who was speaking about Matteo in a positive way that led to Clara's insult.

"Say it again," I dare, ignoring her attitude.

Scoffing, she sets her drink down and shrugs. "Okay. I said, Matteo Moretti is a fucking loser option to set your sights on. A fucking ninth son? Talk about the bottom of the barrel." Clara gives me a pitying look. "I'm just letting the girl know crushing on this one is a waste of time."

Said poor girl is currently and swiftly leaving the party, likely humiliated by the scene.

"You wouldn't understand, since you don't know fuck all about this world."

People start to pay attention, gravitating towards us. I can't imagine mouthing off even more in her position, but here we are. There's a thick air of unease as everyone assesses the situation, even Ares has his guard up, standing behind us.

"Is that what you think?" I challenge, fists clenching and jaw ticking. "I may not have been raised in the world, but I know enough."

"Sure you do," she agrees patronizingly.

Ooooh God, I want to smack that grin off her face.

"I know enough to say what a fucking hypocrite you are," I counter, stepping closer. She's smart enough to stiffen as I do. "Do you think your status is even comparable to Matteo's? You're a nobody. An heir to a gang of assassins who's never killed anyone. You're not just a nobody; you're a joke."

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"No?" I curve up an eyebrow before scanning the crowd. "Anybody disagree?"

No one says a word, and I give her a pitiful smile.

"Ouch, not even your friends, huh?"

"Fuck you," she growls, getting flustered.

"No, fuck you," I snap. "Matteo may be a ninth son, so he'll never be Capo, sure. But I'm a daughter—a tenth child—without any position of power, and I've had more marriage offers in a few weeks than every single girl here has in their life. Why do you think that is?"

"Because—" she starts, but I know it won't be an answer I deem acceptable.

"Because the Moretti Family isn't an organization you fuck with," I cut her off. "People pay millions for the opportunity to align themselves with us. First son or ninth son, Matteo is worth more than your entire fucking family."

The crowd lets out a collective ooo and she bristles, face going red.

"Apologize to him and I'll consider not telling my father that there's a girl I really don't like here. One that might benefit from never being seen again."

I surprise myself with the boldness of the threat, but I don't waiver from it. I hold her eyes, still so close to snapping and jumping on her before Matteo can pull me back.

"You can't threaten me," she blurts out, but her gusto is slowly melting away.

"I can threaten you all day long," I disagree, clicking my tongue at her. "I can do so much worse than threats if you don't apologize and quickly."

"Jade, it's fine," Matteo murmurs, but I ignore him.

"My patience is wearing thin," I warn, voice dripping with fury.

"Fine," she relents. "I'm sorry, Matte?—"

"No," I grind out. "That's not good enough."

"I haven't even started," she argues.

"And you're being insincere," I sneer. "Frankly, it's insulting. So get down on your knees and mean it."

"Oh shit," someone chuckles, but I ignore it.

The only thing the crowd is good for is adding to her humiliation. I don't give a fuck what they think about me or any of this.

"Jade—" Matteo tries again, and I hold up a hand to silence him.

Clara's nostrils flare, and she squeaks like a scared mouse. "I am not getting on my fucking knees, you crazy b?—"

"Either get down, or I'll put you down," I promise, almost hoping she'll give me a reason. When she doesn't make a move to obey, I get impatient.

"Five, four, three, two…" I count down.

Genuinely scared now, Clara Bell kneels at my brother's and my feet. She sinks into the damp grass, looking fearful and small, as she very well should

"Make it good, or don't get up," I instruct and watch as she takes in a shaky breath.

"I'm s-sorry, Matteo. I didn't mean it, I was wrong."

"Ask him to forgive you," I snap.

It would be so easy to kick her teeth in right now.

"Will you f-forgive me?"

Not nearly as much blubbering as I would like, but it'll be enough for now. The girl is properly humiliated. Though, if Matteo wants more, I'll make her sob.

"Do you forgive her?" I ask my brother, looking down at her with my arms crossed. I can't stress enough how much I'm willing to hit her if he'd prefer.

"No," he answers, voice low and haunted. "But she can keep her life."

I almost frown, but maybe he just wants it to be over.

"Get up," I tell her, barking out the order. "If I hear you talking about him like that again, I won't ask if he forgives you before I systematically destroy your entire existence. You'll be running home screaming for God's mercy because I won't be giving you any."

Clara looks like she might be sick when she stands up, but luckily for her, her friends help guide her out of the area. Could I have gone a bit too far just now? Probably. But that's my brother, and no one is going to disrespect him like that in front of me. She's blessed that I've been working on my bursts of physical violence, or she might have needed a plastic surgeon to fix way more than a bruised ego.

I'm worried her words may have seriously affected him when he takes my hand, and we leave in the opposite direction. To my utter relief, he starts cackling as soon as we're alone, far enough away but still outside.

"Jesus Christ, Jade," he wheezes. "You made her bow to apologize. Fuck, I wish that was recorded. I can't wait to tell Dad."

"I thought you might think I went too far," I say carefully.

He chuckles. "Nah, just hiding my hand from the rest of the onlookers. There'll be at least three offers to blow me to make me feel better tomorrow."

"Gross," I shiver, faking a gag.

He chuckles. "I won't take anyone up on it, little sister. I've got my head screwed on right this year. No temptation is enough to knock me off of my game. I can hookup all I want when we get home."

"Also gross," I point out.

Matteo rolls his eyes. "It's natural."

"What if I talked to you about hooking up with boys, huh? Is it natural then, too?"

"You're going to give me nightmares," he complains, wincing. "No hook-up talk, got it. It's a good rule."

It's definitely a good rule. Matteo may not be hooking up at Empire, but I certainly am. As often as possible if I get my way.