Corrupt Knight: A Dark Mafia Romance (Corrupt Trilogy Book 1), page 14
“Let’s see.” She walks over as I scroll up to the top of the document.
I watch her as she studies it, nodding at what she sees.
“It’s good, Bri. I think the students will really love working on this.”
Pride washes through me as she makes a couple of suggestions before asking me to email it all over once I have the set of eight lessons complete.
“You should head home. You must have something more exciting to do tonight,” she says, tidying up her own things.
“Umm… sadly not. I’ve just got a uni assignment waiting for me.”
“Ah, the life of a student,” she laughs. “Feels like a lifetime ago for me now. I always said I’d go back and do my masters, but you know.”
“Yeah, I think I might be done after this, to be honest.”
“Just a few more weeks. And don’t forget to send me your CV and cover letter so you’re ready for any jobs you’re interested in. They should start coming in thick and fast now.”
“I will,” I promise. My mentor at my last school helped me with it, but something tells me that Melissa will be able to tighten it up even more.
The thought of embarking on this as a real job, having classes that I’m responsible for without anyone looking over my shoulder every minute of the day is as terrifying as it is liberating. I’m also nervous as hell that I’m not going to be able to find a job at all and I’ll have to resort to retail or restaurant work, after all.
“You’ve got this, Brianna. The perfect job will turn up. Promise.”
“Thank you,” I say before closing my laptop down and packing it away. “Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Have a good one.” She waves me off and I slip out of her office and into the deadly silent building beyond.
The only thing to be heard as I walk toward the exit is the echo of my footsteps on the old flagstone floors. It’s eerie and does little to help the unease that’s had me on edge since finding Nico watching me earlier.
I once again look over my shoulder before I push through the doors, but there’s no one there.
It’s all in my head.
The walk to the car park is much the same as being inside the building. Almost all the cars are gone with just a handful of dedicated staff left. And I guess those who live on-site with the boarding students.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I find three messages from Jodie and open them up.
Best bitch: How’s it going?
Best bitch: No news is good news, right?
Best bitch: Toby said you had a class with Nico. Was it okay? Did he survive it?
I can’t help but laugh as my mind goes back to thoughts of kicking his chair out from under him earlier. Damn, it would have been priceless to watch his smug little expression falter as the world disappeared from beneath him.
But as I approach my new car, a pair of shoes enters my vision and any amusement I was feeling is swallowed up.
“What do you want?” I hiss, lowering my phone and finding his hard, angry eyes.
“What do I want?” he repeats like a dick.
“Yes, arsehole. What. Do. You. Want?”
A smirk curls at his lips. It’s all I need to know that I really, really don’t want him to tell me what he’s thinking.
“Do you know what? I don’t actually care. Just get the fuck off my car and let me leave.”
“Your car?” he spits, refusing to shift his arse an inch.
“Whatever.”
I continue moving forward, confident that I can round the bonnet that he’s sitting on like he owns the fucking thing without getting within touching distance, my intention to drop into the driver seat and run him down if I have to just to get rid of him.
But, predictably, he’s faster than me and his fingers wrap around my wrist before I manage to twist out of the way and I’m hauled over until I’m standing between his legs.
“You can’t do this. Not here,” I seethe, my eyes darting around for spectators.
“I can do what the fuck I like, Miss Andrews.”
I try yanking my arm free of his hold, but it’s pointless. He’s got it in a vice grip.
I glare at him, silently pleading with him to let this go, but of course it gets me absolutely nowhere with this pig-headed, stubborn fuck.
“Don’t you have better things to be doing than stalking me? You know, like revising? Don’t forget, I’ve seen your work, your grades now. You’re on the verge of failing, Mr. Cirillo.”
It’s not entirely true, after Melissa told me that his coursework was solid earlier; obviously, I went searching for it, and I’ve got to say, I was impressed. This fumbling buffoon can actually write a decent assignment.
But with revision like he so proudly handed in earlier, his upcoming exams are going to seriously let him down.
“Fuck you.”
“Eloquent. That’ll help. And here I was thinking that your argumentative skills were top notch.”
His jaw tics in irritation as our eyes hold, neither of us willing to give into this little battle of wills we embarked on that very first night we hooked up.
I’d have thought us fucking like rabbits would have broken it, but apparently, it only gets worse each time we collide. Like we suddenly both have even more to prove to each other.
“I want my credit card back, Siren.”
“Then you’re going to have to let me fucking go, aren’t you,” I say sweetly.
It takes him a second or two, but he finally releases his hold on me, allowing me to reach into my bag and pull my purse out.
I dig out the card and hold it between us.
The second he reaches for it, I pull it back, like the child that I am.
“You might be many, many things, Brianna Andrews, but I never had you down as a thief.”
“I’m not. Until I was handed this, the only thing I’d taken from you was pleasure and abuse,” I state flatly. “And I only made use of this because you owe me.”
His brows shoot up. “I owe you? Please explain.”
“If you have to ask, then you’re stupider than you look. Here,” I say, thrusting his card at him. “Take your fucking credit card, your attitude, and your smug fucking face elsewhere. I’m fed up with being anywhere near you.”
I take a step away but falter when his amused chuckle hits my ears.
“What?” I snap, unable to stop myself.
“Nothing, Miss Andrews. You run away like a good little teacher. But just remember…” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m not going to be very far away.”
My breath catches at the unspoken threat in his words, but when I look back, he’s already marching away from me.
“Fucking dickhead,” I mutter under my breath before I pull my key out and lock myself safely in my car.
I close my eyes, blowing out a long, calming breath. But the knowledge that I have to come back here tomorrow and do it all over again never leaves me.
The second I closed my front door behind me, I flipped the deadlock for fear of him following me back and using his unending wealth of random skills to pick my lock and torment me some more. To be fair, he could still probably do it if he so wanted; there doesn’t seem to be much that stands in his way. Entitled privileged prick.
I stripped out of my clothes, threw them in the general direction of my laundry basket, and put myself in the shower to hopefully wash the day away.
It did very little. When I got out, I was wrung just as tight as when I stepped in.
Memories of the day, of Nico’s vicious stare, his silent promises, the evidence sitting on my phone that I’ve been doing things I shouldn’t with a student all float around my head, refusing to release me from their clutches.
I drag on a pair of sweats and an oversized hoodie, twist my hair up into my heatless curler and make my way out to the kitchen with the intention of finding some carbs to lose myself in before I open my laptop and get to work, banishing all thoughts of Nico and his hot, arrogant arse from my head as if he doesn’t exist.
With my phone on aeroplane mode, my laptop on one knee and a bowl of noodles on the other, and one of my favourite playlists filling my flat, it doesn’t take long to fully immerse myself in my final uni assignment. That is, until my buzzer rings out through the flat.
“Fuck,” I bark when my still-half-full bowl wobbles off my knee, spilling noodles over my cream sofa.
I do the best I can to pick it up as my buzzer continues to ring.
“All-fucking-right,” I shout, assuming it’s just Jodie and that she’s freaking out because she can’t get through on my phone.
It’s better to assume it’s her than the other option.
“Yeah,” I say frustratedly when I finally make it over to the pad on the wall and jam my finger against the button.
“Hey, baby,” a deep, familiar voice purrs down the line. “Miss me?”
Tipping my head back, I close my eyes and curse this fucking day. Why is it not over yet and still throwing shit my way?
“Hey, Brad,” I say through gritted teeth.
Brad isn’t a bad person. Actually, he’s a pretty fucking decent one. One that I shouldn’t have caved to when he wanted a repeat of the first night we hooked up. But he made it so easy. He isn’t like the other fuck boys. Something that should have set alarm bells off when he found me online after our first night. But he was nice, treated me well, made me come hard. He’s just… well, boring. He doesn’t set my world alight. Not in the way that—
Nope. Do not go there, Brianna.
His cock is fucking magical though so… yeah. I’ve not put all that much effort into getting rid of him because he does come with some serious stress-relieving benefits.
“Are you going to let me in, baby? I’ve missed you.”
“I’m not really dressed for guests,” I confess. “I’m studying.”
“You know I don’t care about that. I can help,” he offers like the nice guy that he is.
Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against the wall and reluctantly press the button that will allow him entry to the building.
“Good girl,” he says softly, but unlike when those two words came from someone else’s lips, my body doesn’t react in the slightest.
Pulling up my big girl knickers, I unlock my front door and crack it open so he can let himself in before I head back to the sofa in an attempt to clean up the mess I made properly.
I hear him before I see him. The door closes and his footsteps make their way across the flat to where I’m washing up.
“Noodles for dinner, really, Brianna?” he chastises when he spots the packet on the counter.
He steps up behind me, his hands on my hips, and his lips land on my neck, sending a shiver right through me, but it’s not the kind of shiver he thinks it is.
“You need to look after yourself, baby. You deserve better than a fifty-pence packet of noodles.”
“Eighty-pence,” I correct. “I’ve got a lot of work to do and I didn’t have time to—”
“It’s a good job I’m back then, isn’t it?”
He twists me around so I have no choice but to face him.
He really is incredibly handsome. Especially when he’s dressed in his sharp suit like he is right now. But still, those flutters and that ‘I must have you now’ reaction I’m so addicted to just aren’t there.
He really is just a friend with benefits. Even the term ‘lover’ seems a little far-fetched.
Unfortunately, though, I fear that he’s got images in his head of me in a white dress, a house with a picket fence and little Brads running around.
I have never once misled him or allowed him to think that there could be anything more than a few hookups between us. But he’s like a dog with a fucking bone. He seems to think he can ‘change’ me or some bullshit. That I’ll fall so hard for him I’ll forget everything else in my life and suddenly become a good little housewife. Un-fucking-likely.
I told him from… well, day two, I guess. That we were not exclusive, that I didn’t want a relationship, that while he might be a repeat, he wasn’t to think for even a second that he was my only one.
He agreed quickly, I assumed because the sex was pretty insane, but as time has gone on I’m realising that it’s more than just sex. For him at least.
But, at this point, I’m figuring that that’s on him, not me. I’ve laid down my intentions for my future and his place in it time and time again. What else can I do?
“You look stressed, baby,” he says, his eyes tracking every inch of my face.
“Yeah, well, life is like that,” I say, twisting out of his grasp before he does something stupid like try and kiss me.
“Let me take you for dinner,” he offers.
“Seriously?” I ask, looking down at myself.
“Yes. Go put something sexy on and I’ll take you out.”
“I can’t,” I say, gesturing to my laptop and the books littering my coffee table.
“I can order ahead. You need a break and it’ll help clear your head. Then you can come back and continue.”
My stomach growls, mourning the loss of the noodles.
I should say no, send him on his way and order a pizza. Not that I can afford to. My rent is due in a few days, and it’s already touch and go as to whether I’m going to have enough. I do still have his credit card stored in my app though... I could order myself a feast at his expense.
“Fine. But we’re going Italian because I want carbs. Call that place you took me to that’s only a few streets over and place an order.” I rattle off what I want as I rush through into my bedroom.
“That’s better,” he says with what should be a knee-weakening smile when I return in a pair of skinny jeans, a fitted jumper that shows off a little cleavage, light make-up, and my freshly curled hair. “Damn, I missed you,” he says, rushing toward me and slamming his lips down on mine before I have a chance to react.
Thankfully—and probably for fear of wearing my lipstick—it’s only a chaste kiss, but it’s enough to make me feel all kinds of icky after the past few days with Nico.
It’s never bothered me before. But something has changed since I acquired my place at Knight’s Ridge and I find that I’m now questioning everything. And as much as I might like men—okay, more specifically, their dicks—I’m almost at the point where I’m going to swear off all of them in favour of my vibrating friends for a while. They deliver nearly as much pleasure and a hell of a lot less drama. And that’s exactly what I need right now.
Proving me right, the second he pulls back, he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, inspecting for stray make-up.
Nico would never do that, a little voice says in my head. He’d wear it like a badge of honour.
Cursing myself for letting my head drift back to him once more, I let Brad take my hand and lead me out of my flat.
The second we’re out and I’ve locked up, he throws his arm around my shoulders and starts telling me about the work trip he’s just been on. I immediately zone out.
At least I’m going to get decent carbs out of this. It’s just a shame that I’m going to refuse any sex-ercise to burn it off after.
16
NICO
“What the fuck?” I breathe when I push through my front door and the floral scent of cleaning products hits my nose a beat before freshly baked— “Jocelyn?”
I kick my shoes off and dump my bag beside them as I walk deeper into my flat.
And just as I suspected, standing in the middle of my kitchen, wearing her standard uniform and apron that Mum always insisted on, is the woman who’s almost single-handedly kept me somewhat sane over the past few years. She can’t really take the credit for being the one to bring Calli and me up. We had nannies and many, many housekeepers before her. But there was something special about Jocelyn that we both saw on her very first day.
She smiles softly at me as I continue to cut through the room toward her.
“I hope you don’t mind. Calli said you could do with a little help and—”
I cut her words off with a hug that I’m not entirely sure she’s expecting.
A nervous laugh falls from her as I hold her small frame tightly.
“You should have called me,” she chastises. “You know that I’d have been here in a heartbeat.”
“Thank you,” I whisper before finally releasing her.
“This place was a dump,” she says, pinning me with a disapproving look. “Although it hasn’t seemed to put the girls off, has it?”
I can’t help but laugh at the thought of her finding Brianna’s knickers twisted up in my bedsheets where I left them.
“Just one girl,” I confess. “And she’s… different.”
I regret the words the second they fall from my lips, because her expression softens and hope seems to enter her eyes.
“Oh no,” I say. “Do not start getting any of those ideas. She’s not that different.”
An annoyed humph falls from her lips.
“So what have you cooked? It smells amazing,” I say in the hope of distracting her from thoughts of me settling down.
Calli has started giving her hope.
There’s a steak and ale pie in the oven—well, there are three, actually—but I promised Calli, Daemon, and Anthony them.”
“Ant?”
“Sweet boy,” she muses. “Needs all the support he can get right now.”
My lips part to say something, but I soon find I don’t have any words.
“There’s also a fresh batch of cookies in that tin, and a salted caramel cheesecake in your fridge.”
“Shit, I missed you, J.”
“There are some of the green junky drinks you like so much to counteract all the sugar.”
“You’re the best, J. When you’re ready to leave Mum behind, just say the word,” I tease.
“Funny, Calli said the same thing.”
“That’s because you’re the best thing left in that house now, J. She can rot in hell for all we care.”
