Corrupt Me (Corrupt Legacy #4)

Chapter 1

Secrets. Deceit. Power. That’s the corrupt legacy I was born into. I have been in a stalemate for years, wishing nothing more than to escape the golden prison of the Family.

Two hundred years ago, six families laid the foundation for what would become an impressive empire: the Astors, the Vosses, the Sinclairs, the Langleys, the Prescotts, and the Fairchilds. Each family rules over a business sector—finance, real estate, healthcare, retail, education, and telecommunication—amassing so much power and influence that the Family has become untouchable and unfathomably rich.

The firstborn of each generation leads the empire, becoming the matriarch or patriarch of the Family, and serves as the unofficial ruler of Delaware, with the headquarters in Greenville.

Obedience has been paramount. You must follow the rules, or there will be consequences. In a worst-case scenario, that includes death. I don’t even know if dying would be worse than being an unwanted child and a thorn in the eye of the last matriarch, Grandmother. What I did wrong to deserve the harsh treatment remains a mystery, but apologizing for my existence seems pointless.

I learned a long time ago that you must adapt to survive. In the Family, the surest way to stay alive is to avoid attention—at least, that was my credo until everything changed drastically. Celine, the Langley heir, returned and she brought with her a cavalcade of upheaval. The most significant included finding out the Prescotts were still alive, Celine’s mother, Cassandra, had survived the accident, and Grandmother had passed away. Oh, and there weren’t only six founding families, but seven.

The Family is so dysfunctional that I doubt it’s salvageable, but I’ll always stay and try my best for my friends. With them by my side, I have survived. They own my complete loyalty.

My friends—Kaden Astor, Abigail Voss, and her boyfriend Dane Donovan, Blake Sinclair, Celine Langley, Mia and Hunter Prescott, and I—are the heirs of the Family. But luckily, we won’t have to carry our families’ names once we marry. That’s the only big change Cassandra Langley, the current matriarch, made.

We’ll embrace the new Family name: Arison. Cassandra undid a wrong from the past by taking the name of the only female founding member, Clara Arison. Clara never married because that would have meant renouncing her seat and power to her husband. After her death, her influence faded—along with the rules she stood for: trust, respect, and togetherness vanished. Over time, she was forgotten.

Until now.

Not only will we end the greed that corroded the Family for over a century, but we will also end the battle for power. We will become one irrevocable unity––a Family under one name.

I don’t even care about renouncing my family name, Fairchild. It has brought me nothing but heartbreak.

After Grandmother’s death, things have changed for the better. Cassandra is different. I am not invisible to her. On the contrary, she was the first to ask me what I would like to do with my life.

I wanted to say finding love, which would be idiotic. I am good at one thing: coding and hacking. Computer programming is my world where, behind a screen, I am someone. It was that constant feeling of powerlessness that pushed me to learn. With code, you give instructions to a computer and become a creator. What started as a way to cope turned into a passion, something that kept me grounded.

It has kept me sane—sane in the face of parents who saw me as a nuisance. Sane when Kaden came up with an escape plan. Sane when Caleb Sinclair and Felix Astor were on the run. One is dead now, but the most dangerous one, Felix, is out there, biding his time.

It’s me versus him. He shouldn’t have stolen the money from me. Even though I stole it from the Family, diligently withdrawing bit by bit with a bug I infiltrated into the financial system. Ten million dollars, gone. It’s not necessarily about the sum—it’s a drop in a bucket to the Family’s finances. It’s the sting of being outsmarted. That money represented our way out, not only funding our escape, but starting a new life.

I failed, but once I pulled myself together, I pondered how that happened, quickly concluding it was Felix. He must have had help from someone in my vicinity. It has to be someone from my class. I’ll find that person, and I’ll find him next. Felix has caused enough harm to the only family I know: my friends.

My transformation took root inside of me when Grandmother was on her deathbed. It was the first time she looked at me differently—not with the usual disdain, but almost contemplatively.

She said something that I haven’t stopped thinking about for months now.

“The sins of the parents are not yours to carry. I apologize.”

Then she gifted me something antique—a small compact golden box designed to hide secret messages, just waiting for me to crack. I opened it immediately, but the note inside was blank. The box sits on my desk, a constant reminder that there’s still another puzzle to solve.

What sins? What secret could have been so terrible that every time she looked at me, she sighed deeply, preferring to disregard my presence altogether?

A headache pounds behind my temples. I have pushed and pushed myself beyond exhaustion, but I can’t give up. My friends are relying on me.

Staring back at the screens, I scan the dozens of tabs open, even though Cassandra gave me an entire IT team to handle the analysis. I can’t give up control. Felix is sneaky. He got close once, and he will do it again. Time is not on my side.

My friends are away for the weekend, enjoying a romantic getaway, which will give me uninterrupted time to work. Celine and Kaden are at their vacation home, Abigail and Dane are at their house, and Mia and Blake are at their lodge.

I am at the college house, in my room—it’s minimalistic and airy, with just the necessary amenities: a queen-sized bed with two nightstands, an overstuffed armchair by the window, and a walk-in closet leading to an en suite bathroom. My desk is where I spend most of my time—a computer, two screens, and a laptop are open 24/7. If I could forsake sleep, I would.

I need quiet to focus, but that has long been obliterated since he crashed into my life—intrusively. It’s as if he lives to drive me mad.

I’m not alone at the house. Even though Hunter dislikes me profoundly, he also watches over me, like a damn thorn pricking my side and hijacking my attention.

To say it’s complicated would be simplistic.

When he came to Greenville, he had a mission and planned to use the weak link to get information: me. I should be insulted, but I’ve always thought it’s better to be underestimated. There’s no pressure and no possibility of disappointing someone. That not only gives you a secret advantage, but it feels freaking awesome when people realize you’re more than what they thought of you.

Hunter and I started as a lie, continued as a headache, and now we’re in this limbo of back-and-forth—bickering, then ignoring each other. It’s exhausting.

I quickly realized what he was doing and because I was distrustful of people, I hacked into his phone. Afterward, I tried to ignore Hunter and stay out of his way, but then he found out who I really was when Kaden demanded I tell him where Blake was. I refused, and that put a strain on my relationship with Kaden.

I’ll never forget that look on Hunter’s face—a mix of surprise and resignation tightened his features, making him look almost statuesque. I stared back at him as he absorbed the information: I was the hacker. It should have been a moment for me to rejoice over my win. Strangely, it wasn’t. Something flickered in his eyes, which was disconcerting.

While I hadn’t openly disclosed who I was, the rest of the group had put two and two together. Hunter was the only clueless one. Serves him right for thinking I am a damsel in distress, a princess in the ivory tower—a kitten. He loves to taunt me with that nickname, making me want to claw at his chest until I leave marks.

After years of desperately craving love from my parents and never getting it, I thought nothing could ever hurt me. But his animosity stung as if I’d betrayed him by keeping my ability a secret.

It all came to an end when danger exploded in our faces. Felix Astor, Kaden’s father, and Caleb Sinclair, his best friend, escaped. Felix was Grandmother’s right hand, but he betrayed her by keeping her daughter hostage for fourteen years. Caleb, the mad scientist, is Blake’s father.

Since then, Hunter has made it his mission to be my shadow. He’s always there, in my face, those deep silver eyes, gunmetal, because that is exactly how they feel on me—like a gun pointed straight at my sanity.

When I first saw him, something strange happened. In hindsight, I realize I was attracted to him. It would be impossible not to. Half the female students want him, while the others dream about him. But the brooding, mysterious vibe he emanates drew me in. For the first time, something out of my virtual world made me want to crack him open, to discover the reason behind my fascination with him. Call me insane, but something in him called to something in me.

He antagonizes me at every turn, and I would like to say his taunting has stopped working after so long, but some still rattle me, and I react. He loves that.

Shoving thoughts of Hunter away, I resume monitoring my screens.

Where are you hiding, Felix? And who hacked me?

It has to be someone close to me. Someone who, in a moment of distraction, infiltrated my system. It was done so stealthily that I would have been envious if I wasn’t the one getting burned.

My neck stiffens, and I stand up, stretching as I walk toward the window. Spring is in full bloom, but in my chest, permanent winter resides. Everything that blossoms there quickly freezes to death. Love has never been reciprocated.

Before my eyes, another symbol of the Family’s power greets me—Eagleton College. The imposing and vast gray building resembles a castle. The crest of the Family, an eagle with spread wings holding a globe between its claws, is engraved on the entry doors of the main building. For me, it’s a reminder of being hunted more than a symbol of freedom.

The campus spans thousands of acres—a small city teeming with students, a shopping center, entertainment facilities, a small theater, coffee shops, diners, and bars, and even a park. My friends and I live a bit separated from the rest of the students, a constant reminder to everyone that we’re the heirs. Our college house is the most striking of them all, similar to the architecture of the college building.

A door shuts, the echo seeping through the walls, pulling me out of my thoughts. He’s pissed. When is Hunter not pissed? But he sure enjoys letting me know. This is one of those times when I react.

Yanking at my door handle, I poke my head out and see him walking down the stairs.

“I need silence to work, so go be a broody asshole somewhere else,” I shout and shut the door. My stupid heart pounds a crazy beat.

What always happens, happens: he shoves right through my door without a knock or an invitation.

He arches an arrogant brow. “Want my attention, kitten?”

“Yours would be the last I want.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down, hoping he buys the lie. I can’t help myself—there are these disturbing moments when I crave his attention.

Those steel eyes pierce my chest. He’s too good-looking and he knows it. In just his sweatpants, I knew he was about to go to the gym before I interrupted him. I try not to look at his bare chest that ripples with muscles.His eight-pack has my fingers itching to trace the planes and ridges of his stone-carved body. That sharp V-line dipping lower into tempting territory makes me swallow hard.

He clears his throat, and my cheeks heat. I instantly redirect my attention to his face—chiseled features, hollowed cheeks, a straight nose, and carnal lips. Not even AI could come up with this picture of physical perfection. A smirk plasters on his gorgeous face. While I want to slap it off, I want to do something else, too—something bad, like kiss him. Thankfully, I know better, and I push that thought back into the vault where all my dreams go to die.

We’re locked in a battle of wills. Every second, the intensity stretches, becoming unbearable, yet I hold his deep gaze, making me feel like he’s peeling back layers, leaving me exposed—bare to my soul.

He doesn’t like what he sees. I know because he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides, his jaw setting in a firm line. “Get your ass downstairs, and let’s work on your defense.”

“Can’t. I have better things to do.”

He gets right in my face, his scent invading my nostrils, disregarding personal space, as always. He smells so good—a hint of sandalwood and tobacco, a rich and smoky blend that’s undeniably masculine.

“You can’t land a punch to save your life. Your hacking won’t help you if you’re attacked.”

That was a low blow. But he loves to deliver those when he wants to make a point.

He took it upon himself to teach me how to fight. Why? I have no clue—except that he likes to torment me, and apparently, I am a sucker for it because I agreed—a momentary lapse of judgment. Any one of my friends could have taught me self-defense. It was my fault I accepted his offer instead. I must be a masochist. Our strained relationship has gotten worse. I am teetering on a dangerous line, with an abyss beneath me, battling the urge to just let myself fall and see what awaits me—surely total annihilation.

Without another word, he marches out of my room, and I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. But not for long. Never too long.

There goes my peaceful weekend where I can work undisturbed. If I don’t go down, he will come for me. I know it, yet I still decide to ignore him. He’s right—I am bad at fighting. He’s a great teacher, but he’s just so damn distracting with his good looks and that deep voice. I don’t do well with distractions.

Inhaling deeply, I remind myself I can trust the team Cassandra assigned to find Felix. Though I have been staring at the screens for hours after Hunter barged into my room, my attention is nonexistent.

Contrary to what my friends believe—that I am addicted to my devices—I have my own way of relaxing: swimming. I change into a red swimsuit, choosing to do laps instead. I pull my strawberry hair into a bun on top of my head, reminding myself that I have one true power—right at the tip of my fingers.

Downstairs, the kitchen centers around a marble island. To the left is a spacious living room, painted in shades of light gray, furnished in white. A large, comfy sofa, a coffee table, and a hand-crafted rug create a cozy atmosphere, while a fireplace sits on one side of the room. Hardwood floors and crystal lights add an elegant touch to the space.

Walking down another flight of stairs leads to the basement, which houses a gym, a theater room, and a swimming pool.

Throwing my bathrobe on a chaise, I stretch my arms over my head and dive in. The first contact with the chilly water awakens all my senses.

Water has always soothed me, taking my mind off everything else. I’ve learned from an early age to always be in tune with my surroundings. It has everything to do with the fact that I always had to tiptoe around my parents whenever they were home. Observing comes naturally to me. That’s why I’m pissed that someone outsmarted me and got close enough to hack me. That was a lesson in humility that I learned the hard way. I could have lost my friends because I was tricked. Losing the money was nothing compared to that explosion that could have buried them when we thought we found out where Felix and Caleb were. Never again.

By my tenth lap, I know Hunter is watching me. I always sense when he’s there. My skin prickles with awareness, and my heartbeat kicks up an erratic rhythm. It’s genuinely unsettling but something I can’t change.

Not wanting to go another round with him, I continue my laps. Fifty laps later, I swim to the edge of the pool. Suddenly, he drags me up by the arms, holding me suspended above the water. He’s strong but enjoys showing me how easily he can overpower me. Placing me down on the tiles, I dry myself with jerky moves.

“Done acting like a child? Why doesn’t it surprise me? You’d be the first to get killed. But maybe Felix would throw you in the sea, and you’d have to swim to save your life.” His tone is bitter as he states the facts, convinced that I am weak and annoying. He has always believed that—and my stupid heart twists.

“Again, why do you care if he kills me? At times, I think you’d like that.”

He grips my chin, his eyes burning. “Let’s get one bloody thing straight, Bailey. No one dies under my care.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“You’re still my fucking responsibility.”

Responsibility . Lucky me.

“Blake could teach me. Then you wouldn’t have to spend time with someone you can’t stand.”

“Yeah, Blake—the one you trust most.” There’s something edgy in his voice I can’t pinpoint. “He chose my sister, and you know it.”

He’s such an asshole. I am happy for my friends—Mia has literally brought Blake back to life, and I love her for that. I am just…unhappy for me. No one would ever choose me. Would my friends die for me? They would because that’s what we do. But I’d rather die than have any of them give their lives for me. There has been too much sacrifice, too much pain. They deserve happiness.

Sin . That word seeps through my thoughts, sending a ball of acid rolling through my insides. There must be something inherently wrong with me. I need to find out what it is to be at peace with why I am not worthy of love.

“Let’s get one thing straight. If I asked Blake, he would do it. For me.”

He pushes me back, and my arms flail to the side as I land with a splash in the water.

He gnashes his teeth together, the grinding sound showing his displeasure. “You’re pathetic. I am wasting my time with you.”

Yeah, I am not worthy. Tell me something new. I dive under, not wanting to show him how those words affect me. Tears blend with the water while I hold my breath. I can usually reach four minutes—but can I now? No, because I keep tracking him pacing around by the edge of the pool.

I close my eyes, wanting to tune him out, along with the rest of the world. I need to focus. My friends need me.

The moment he jumps in, I swim away, threading my arms and legs through the water with ease. Pulling myself up the stair railing, I say over my shoulder, “Cool down. If I live or die, that’s not your problem.”

“The Family made you my problem.” His words are just as lethal as his physique. He scowls, dragging a hand through his dark hair, slicking it back while water glides down his sharp features.

This endless reminder of what I am to him, while these conflicting emotions tear me apart, makes me blurt, “You couldn’t save your mother. That’s what pushes you.”

If looks could kill, my friends would be preparing my funeral right now.

Hunter and I don’t talk or share secrets. What we know about each other is because of our friends, snippets we catch here and there that we use in our perpetual war. He started it. And it won’t be me waving the white flag. As insane as it sounds, he takes my mind off other things—things I can’t control.

He throws his head back and laughs, a maniacal sound that clenches my chest. “To think that… Oh, kitten, you’re delusional. That would imply that I care about you.”

We both know he doesn’t. What connects us is this strange sense of duty and our friends. We’re family. It doesn’t matter if we like each other, but it’s paramount we work together and take care of each other.

I expect years of frustration ahead. The two of us will never get along, which saddens me. We’re trapped in this unforgiving cage of destiny, neither friends nor enemies.

Fetching my bathrobe, I wrap it around my body and return to my room.

After I take a long shower, washing away the chlorine and sadness, I blow-dry my hair and let the reddish blond strands fall over my breasts. I slip on shorts and a tank top, then settle back at my desk. Here, I’m in control—calm, collected, knowing exactly what I have to do. This is my safe place.

Hunter is there, just behind my door, pacing the hallway and grumbling under his breath. He’s a conundrum, yet he takes his responsibility of watching over me seriously, making me feel safe. No one could reach me because they would have to go through him, and that would end badly.

“I can hear you breathing,” I expel, and he barges into the room, the infuriating guy.

“Go to sleep, Hunter. There are guards posted everywhere.”

“No one can protect you the way I can.” It’s not arrogance dripping from his voice, but determination.

Yes, but you’re hurting me worse than anyone else could. Why? I don’t have an answer. It’s just my heart deflating from something I haven’t caught onto yet. I just wish I wasn’t a burden.

His phone pings with a notification, and I huddle over my screen, my pulse spiking. A text from some girl pops up in a tab in the corner. I forgot to close it—another testament to how off-balance I am in his presence.

Since he invades my privacy the way he does, I won’t apologize for doing the same. The texts are all the same: girls offering themselves to him in more or less conspicuous ways. Something dark fogs my brain, the tendrils wrapping around my sanity.

“Someone must need night service,” I snicker.

“Jealous?”

Faced with that word, the undeniable truth pokes at my bubble of avoidance.

“Wrap it up, Hunter. We wouldn’t want to lose you to an STD.”

A throaty laugh tumbles out of his mouth. I like that sound, deep and hoarse. I like it less that it’s at my expense.

“I always wrap it up. Don’t worry.”

His taunts will be the reason I lose my mind.

I wait, breath lodged in my throat, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for him to reply. He doesn’t. The relief is instant, and I release the breath I had been holding, the pressure on my lungs easing.

I wish I didn’t feel so relieved, but if he’s going to torment me, the least he could do is not go out and sleep with some girl. Even though he never replies to their texts, there are nights when he disappears, and my mind spirals into the hell of overthinking. I hate those times, but with our friends gone and Felix still out there, he hasn’t been out in a while.

I turn to see him lounging on the armchair by the window—legs spread, head cocked to the side, his cheek resting on his fist. That imposing posture does funny things to me. I wish I knew what it was. It certainly never happened with anyone else. But there’s more. Tiredness lines his eyes, and he looks lost in thought. He needs to unwind, and I am not the answer.

“You can go,” I say in a small voice, focusing back on my screen. His well-being matters to me, tugging at my heartstrings.

“I wish I could.” He stands up, and my neck prickles when he’s near me. “Good night, my little stalker.”

I shift so quickly in my seat that a gasp tumbles out of my mouth. I can’t believe I forgot to close the tab.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I rush to say. “I have that installed for all my friends.” That’s a lie.

“You do? Show me.”

“That would be a gross privacy infringement.”

He cocks his head, his deep voice taking on a deceptively sweet tone. “What about my privacy?”

My pulse thunders in my ears, silencing any logical thinking. This is what he does to me. I was so distracted I forgot to close the evidence of how mad he makes me behave.

“I forgot to uninstall it.”

“Sure.” He sounds so sure of himself.

I feel the blush creep up my neck, and with my fair complexion, my only small help is that it’s getting dark.

“Tell yourself whatever you want. No wonder I couldn’t get a quick fuck, even when I wanted to.”

Deny it and make it believable. It was one freaking time.

“You were supposedly with Celine.” I can’t believe I didn’t think of that argument sooner.

“Such a good friend. So now, I can just go fuck whoever I want?”

My defense will be simple if I kill him: His challenges made me do it.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to erase that image. “You already do that when you disappear.”

“I need an outlet.”

An outlet from me. “I wouldn’t want to stand in your way.”

Right then, Eric sends me a text: Wanna go out?

“Tell him no,” he says cold enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“You were just preaching about privacy,” I huff, not knowing how to deal with the intensity that electrifies all my senses.

He’s so close to me, his breath fanning my cheek, heating me from within, and goose bumps rise along my neck. Maybe he infected me with a deadly virus, making me break out in these sudden bouts of fever.

Gripping my chin, he tips my face up, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. “If I don’t get any, you won’t either. It’s only fair.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ve known him since high school. It’s not like that.”

His gaze narrows, and his voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. “No, he wants to fuck you, Bailey. And neither of us is fucking.”

“What? Why?” I ask, completely taken aback and struggling to understand his reasoning. But then again, confusion is nothing new when it comes to him.

“Because I need to focus on keeping you alive, and you need to focus on finding that motherfucker, Felix, so I can kill him.”

He has a point. It’s the best solution to my predicament. We’ll find Felix sooner if I can focus more on work and less on what Hunter does.

I stretch out my hand, and his brows furrow in intrigue before he takes it. The small contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, making me fear that one of these days, he’ll short-circuit my system.

His silver eyes bore into mine with a fierce determination. “No one is fucking until we find Felix.”

“Deal,” I agree, though a part of me wonders, Not even each other?