Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
People who had watched Anastasia one too many times wondered if I was some kind of lost Russian princess. Others who preferred spy movies assumed I was the daughter of some KGB agent.
Then there were the ones who looked at me more nervously.
The ones whose families probably had connections or knew someone who knew someone. They looked at me in fear and whispered the word mafia.
I hated them the most because they were right.
When my father died, I thought maybe I could shed that life entirely, but it looked like it wasn't going to be that easy.
I turned a quick left into the science building; it was filled with students that were being let out of their class. I ran down that hallway, dodging around the groups of students, until I burst through a back service entrance.
My heart pounded in my ears, my breath coming in short gasps.
The thrill of potential escape sent adrenaline surging through my veins.
CHAPTER 8
VIKTORIA
Looking left and right, I couldn't see my stalkers.
With a victorious smile and a spring in my step, I walked to the library feeling just a little lighter even if deep down I knew it wouldn't last for long.
And as I found my study group, my instinct was right.
Artem hadn't hired the same caliber stalker as my father did. Those men would still be scouring the science building. These stalkers knew exactly what I was doing and showed up at my destination and waited.
My heart sank, a hollow feeling spreading through my chest.
There was no escape.
I was as trapped now as I'd ever been, just in a prettier cage.
My study group was sitting around one of the large round wooden tables, all of them glaring at the two heavily muscled men in suits with matching bulges under their arms, leaning against a nearby bookshelf.
So much for subtlety. "Sorry I'm late," I said, trying to ignore the situation entirely. "What are we starting with?"
Just like that, the men's curious glares and the women's disdainful frowns were aimed at me again.
Being popular was fun. My eyes rolled.
It was two painful hours of people ignoring me, talking over me, avoiding eye contact, or just refusing to acknowledge my existence.
Fuck them.
I headed back to my dorm room, clutching my books to my chest with my good arm. My other arm had mostly healed from the dislocated shoulder, but it still throbbed with a dull ache, especially by the end of the day.
I wasn't about to let some spoiled rich kids ruin my chance at an education. I wouldn't let their assumptions or their scorn take a damn thing away from me.
They looked at me like I was an outsider, like I didn't deserve to be there, but the truth was I was the only one that deserved to be there. I was the only one that had to work to be there. I may not have been paying my tuition, but if I had to, I would have been. That thought never even crossed any of their minds. Not when they had mommies, daddies, and trust funds.
I held on to that anger, because if I didn't, if I let it go, I didn't know how I was going to get up in the morning and do it all again.
Spite was one hell of a motivator.
As I approached my dorm, the weight of my shadows' eyes pressed into my skin like hot needles.
Would the watchers follow me inside?
Report back to Artem about every detail of my day?
The thought of him knowing my every move sent a strange mix of dread and something else through me—something I refused to examine too closely.
"Hey girl!" Amy called from her open doorway across the hall. She was blasting the latest Taylor Swift album, dancing around her room as she shimmied in a tight pink top and a black faux leather miniskirt.
When she turned to look at me, she stopped dead. "Oh my god, what happened? You look like you just took a pop quiz naked in a class you've never even heard of."
A laugh bubbled up in my chest and I let it free. You could say what you wanted about my very cheery, pink, and dazzling neighbor, Amy, but she always made me laugh.
She was also the only one in the school that gave me the time of day.
She had some experience dealing with guards. She was the daughter of an ambassador and fought not to have security at college. She assumed I was in the same situation and lost the fight.
It was sweet.
She never thought anything bad about anyone.
"Just a long day, lots of stress," I said, leaning against her doorframe.
"Girl"—she pulled me into her room, closing the door behind us—"I know what you're going through. Being the new girl is the worst and coming in junior year blows. Everyone else has already found their groups and you're just kinda wandering. I have been there. But I know the secret."