Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,35

were all legacies. That’s how it worked. We had a place carved out for us since day one.

I see Sebastian’s, which to be honest, bro racked up a string before he settled down with that piece of white trash. As I suspected, under the old R.M. for Reynolds there is a fresh slash. The other initials are jumbles of letters I don’t recognize until I pause on a G.H.

G.H.?

Georgia pops into my mind first, but then it shifts to her skinny twin, George. Did they really let that loser in the Devils? Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.

I jolt when I hear the creak of hinges downstairs, quietly descending the stairs to investigate. A door closes and footsteps echo around the stonework. There’s only one door in the Devil’s Tower besides the entrance; a locked door on the ground floor. No one that I know of has ever been through it. Until now. I try the handle but it’s locked tight, so old and decrepit that it’s probably melded to the stone. Maybe I’d imagined it.

I exit the tower and head back across campus, feeling a little adrift. I’d owned this place for four years. Suddenly there’s no discernable power structure. People like Collins don’t get it—that a place like Preston needs that. It might be petty and juvenile, built on the backs of the less socially fortunate, but a school like this would eat itself from the bottom up without it. I used to think Hamilton understood. Until he started fooling around with Gwendolyn Adams.

People think we fell out because of injured loyalties, but they’re wrong. It was about Preston needing a leader and Hamilton refusing to honor it. It should have been me. I wouldn’t have abandoned my responsibilities to the Devils for some second-rate pussy. I would have made us feared. Respected. Powerful.

Instead of leading the Devils, I’m serving time to bring them down.

Fucking stupid.

As I walk back to my apartment to grab my car keys, I see Georgia, Caroline, and Oswald sitting in the courtyard. It’s almost dark, but they’re huddled around the guy’s phone, laughing at something he’s showing them. Obnoxiously, I might add. Georgia throws her head back, a peal of laughter drawing stares. Well, isn’t she just happy as a fucking peach?

The sight makes my fists curl. I remember her beneath me last night, holding on tight as I fucked her just the way she wanted. I remember that, for most of it, I wanted to wrap my hand around her throat. Take her back out to that pool and hold her beneath the surface, look on coolly as she thrashed around. Make her regret ever fucking with me.

As soon as an opportunity reveals itself, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I feel better when I get to the club. More grounded, like I’m back in my own skin. Last night was the first night I’d left Underworld in the hands of my staff since Big Gene set up shop in my VIP lounge, and the thought makes me restless and annoyed.

Kevin greets me with a firm slap of our palms. “His boys are up there,” he says, giving me a look.

I don’t react beyond a single nod, walking inside. It’s a little less crowded tonight—Tuesdays always are—so it’s easy to spot Gene and his flunkies, loitering up in the loft. They stick out like a sore thumb, dressed up in cheap, tacky menswear. These aren’t my father’s kind of loan sharks. There are no cigars or aged whiskey. Gene’s boys are rough around the edges, trying so hard to seem rich and powerful that they look like they’re playing dress up in daddy’s old clothes.

Big Gene greets me with a slimy grin and an outstretched hand. “Here’s our little prince.”

I stare at his hand. Instead of shaking it, I pull the USB from my pocket and hold it up. “This,” I say, giving it a wiggle, “is half my debt erased.”

His smile melts into a hard expression. “You fucked the little princess?”

“It’s like I’ve been saying. She’s a whore.” Shrugging, I slide into the booth across from him, spinning the drive between my fingers. “I have proof.”

When he reaches out to take it, I snatch it away. “Don’t be stingy, boy. Share and share alike.”

Smirking, I close it in my fist. “I’m not letting this one get out. In case you’ve forgotten, I already have two strikes for sharing videos.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So I’m just supposed to take your word for