Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“This is me warning you again, Lu-Lu. You say you’re not worried about him, but you should always worry about insecure boys with small dicks and big bank accounts. Piss him off and he’ll make life difficult for you, and your life will be difficult enough when everyone finds out a Dreg bagged one of the most eligible guys around.”
I couldn’t comment on what she said about Owen being dangerous. Not without crying. No one knew that more than me... and Winter. “That’s it? It’s already decided that I’m a Dreg?”
She nodded. “There are only three kinds of people around here, Sinclair. The Royals—families that were established decades ago, their kids, and their kids’ kids. Once in a while, new money claims the title, but that’s for people who invent the iPhone or something. Kings of a tire empire and his stepdaughter don’t make the cut.
“Then, like I told you, there are the Rogues. Four guys who don’t have the standing of a Royal, but no one would think of fucking with them. Only an idiot would get on their bad side. Last year, Cooper Trace thought it’d be funny to play a prank on the paranoid Wilder. Cooper woke up the next morning, his family’s bank accounts were frozen and he somehow ended up on the terrorist watch list. TSA tackled his ass in the security line when his family tried to fly to Saint-Tropez.”
“I’m still eighty-two percent sure you’re exaggerating about those guys.”
Katie laughed. “The point is, if you’re not a Royal or a Rogue, you’re a Dreg. End of.”
“Sounds stupid and the very reason why we don’t have a monarchy in this country.”
“You’re getting my point, right? Like, I don’t need to draw you a map or color you a picture in crayons.” She knocked on my forehead. “Is this thing receiving me?”
Katie grabbed my head, talking into it like it was a microphone. “Don’t. Fuck. With. The. Royals,” she shouted. “Someone should make Owen cry, but it’s not going to be you. I won’t have anything happen to you.”
I untangled myself from her, smile tugging at my lips. “Won’t have anything happen to me? Are you saying you care about me?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Now who’s self-involved? Look, your sister was cool.” She raised her latte. “Her fashion sense wasn’t any better than yours, but I kind of liked her. I don’t want what happened to her to happen to her sister too.”
“Seems like you think it will anyway. I’m a Dreg marrying a Royal.”
“That’s right, so don’t make it worse.”
Katie walked me to the English building and showed me Professor Anthony’s class. Our next stop was supposed to be to the communications building for my speech class, but a guy in shorts and sunglasses called her name as we were walking out of the English building, and she was gone.
“Bye, Lu-Lu. I’ll pick you up here in two hours for our shopping date.” She ran into his arms, gifting a kiss that got everyone in the vicinity hot under the collar. I assumed that was the infamous Dean who fucked like a beast.
Shaking my head, I got my map out of my backpack and continued on. Classes started officially on Thursday, giving us three days of orientation. I was all for getting new students acquainted and teaching them the ropes before throwing them into their first day, but what happened to groups, perky tour guides, and silly icebreaker games?
Wouldn’t want new students to bond and make friendships before the caste system assigned their worth.
I found where I was on the map and turned right, heading in the opposite direction of the communications building. I needed to get my hands on a class schedule. My first method was to go to the registrar’s office and just ask. If that didn’t work, I’d get creative.
“Luna Sinclair.”
I jerked, heart shooting into my throat. Rafael Dumont strolled casually by my side, headphones snug over his ears. “Fucking hell! Where did you come from?”
“My mother.”
“Cute.” I dug my palm into my beating chest. “You scared the mess out of me. Don’t sneak up on people.”
“You’re Luna Sinclair, correct? Winter Sinclair-Bowden’s younger sister.”
My face shuttered closed. “What about her?”
“I’m asking you,” he said, grinning. “It’s a simple question. Answer it already.”
“Yes, she was my sister. Why do you want to know?”
Rafael’s grin faded. “Because I’m sorry for your loss. Winter was good people. She treated everyone the same and was never weird around Cato.” He gestured with his chin, drawing my attention to my other side and the guy with the skull muzzle walking silently next to me. My second fright of the morning. “We’re both sorry. We wanted to go to the funeral, but your stepdad said it was family only. We sent flowers though.”
“You did?” I slowed. “Which ones?”
“The carnations, chrysanthemums, and—”