Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,158

all the power that money will bring to our fingertips.

For now, that’s all we’ve got. Our planning for Ophelia and Maxwell isn’t making much progress otherwise. But time, we can definitely pass some time here. I’m thrilled to be able to do it. Life gets so easy for a while that I start to remember some of my old hobbies. Besides working on my poetry, I’ve been catching up on binge-worthy shows, reading romance novels in the bath, and perfecting the gossip and social intel skills that every Prescott ho excels at.

Oak Valley Prep is so much more twisted than I expected. There are serpentine games being played in every classroom, barbs thrown with every pretty smile shared in the hallway. Right now, I’m watching the daughter of an oil tycoon whisper secrets into the ear of a girl—a hotel heiress, to be exact—she sabotaged just yesterday by stealing her PE uniform. The hotel heiress chick got a write-up since this is the fifth time that’s happened, putting her at risk of suspension.

Oil Tycoon Girl was tricksy, but I saw her take the uniform. She stuffed it into a trash can just outside the girls’ dormitory. There are other things going on, worse things. Rich people are sick, nefarious fucks.

“I expected this place to be as dry as the Sahara,” I admit, sitting up at the outdoor table where we’re eating. Victor is smoking, even though he gets written-up almost daily for it. Our connections to the schoolboard hold strong. Guess it’s pretty big news when you can out someone for being a pedophile—with undeniable proof, too. “But this is a wet, juicy miasma of backstabbing, theft, and fucking. These Oak Valley kids could give Prescott ones a run for their money in the bullshit and drama department.”

“Fuller High is where all the normal kids go,” Hael says, chewing his food absently. He looks down at his plate like he misses his mom’s food immensely. Like, the grub here is good, but it’s the kind of good that only money can buy. And I mean that in the most negative way possible. Back in Prescott, there’s nothing money can buy. It’s all about the skill and ingenuity of the people.

This food is as soulless as the fancy coffee.

“So says the man who allowed Brittany Burr to worm her way into our lives,” Oscar deadpans, and Hael sighs, setting his fork down on the side of his plate before lifting those honey-brown eyes up.

“Brittany is a naïve idiot, and a spoiled, demanding bitch. But she isn’t Trinity Jade. And she isn’t Kali Rose-Kennedy. That’s all I’m saying.” He glances my way, as if to apologize for defending his ex. “She’ll get hers eventually—don’t worry about it. As soon as that baby comes out, she’ll know he belongs to Rich Pratt.”

“That’s almost punishment enough,” I joke as Hael watches me, and we both end up smiling. “Finding out that you’re not the father. Personally, I’d be devastated.”

“Whoa there, princess,” Vic says, even as I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes on him. He knows that I detest being called that. He knows that I’m his motherfucking queen. We proved that shit to each other, back at the house. Of course, Vic wouldn’t be Vic without a little alpha-hole behavior every now and again. “You’ve got five possible baby daddies sitting right here. Chill that talk.”

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” I ask him as he looks down at me from his spot on the table, his shoes on the bench seat beside me. It’s weird as fuck seeing all five Havoc Boys dressed in these hideous prep school uniforms. Only … they don’t look quite as hideous when the boys are actually wearing them. Fine, I’ll admit it: they look handsome as hell. All day long, I catch girls looking. Boys, too. Mack even ogles them sometimes when we pass him and David in the courtyard. Havoc is just that goddamn pretty, I guess.

“Meaning you’re not interested in kissing me and making Trinity Jade jealous?” Vic queries as Aaron rolls his eyes dramatically. I can see Trinity from the corner of my eye, watching us. She does that a lot, stares like that. I wonder if it’s because she’s daydreaming about killing me or daydreaming about fucking Vic.

Either way …

I move over to where Victor’s sitting, and I crawl into his lap, right in the middle of that spring-drenched courtyard with all those uppity Oak Valley brats. See, I’ve been