4. Ava
CHAPTER 4
AVA
The dorms here are a hell of a lot fancier than the ones I’ve seen in movies. I enter my room to find a nicely appointed space with two matching beds, desks, and dressers, along with a sizable closet on either side. It actually takes me a moment to discern which half of the room is already occupied because my mystery roommate is impeccably tidy, only a few of her personal effects in sight. And of course, since she’s not around, I decide to snoop a little.
She’s got a book resting on her nightstand– Alpha Gray , some cheesy werewolf romance novel– and a couple of framed photos displayed on her desk. Both pictures include multiple people, so it’s hard to narrow down which one of the smiling faces belongs to my roommate. I suppose I’ll know soon enough.
Also atop her desk is a fancy fountain pen and personalized stationery with the name Richelle Colburn embossed in gold across the top, so that solves the mystery of my new roommate’s name, at least. Though I don’t know who the hell writes actual letters anymore. Maybe it’s a rich kid thing.
The only other personal touches are a lilac throw blanket folded across the end of the bed and a small coffee maker on the corner of the desk. I’m thankful for that, because I hadn’t even considered how I’d be getting my morning coffee fix. Then again, it’s not as if I had much time to prepare before coming here.
My three black suitcases are lined up neatly at the foot of the other bed, and there’s a welcome packet on my desk with a key sitting beside it– presumably to this room. I approach the desk and swipe up the folder, carrying it over to the bed, sinking down on the edge, and flipping it open to thumb through the contents.
There’s a lot of information inside. A course guide, which is of little use since my stepfather apparently chose my classes when he enrolled me, as well as deadlines for the add/drop period and a list of requirements for each major. Behind that is a rundown of general rules for the campus and the dorms, a listing of clubs and organizations, and an event calendar for the semester. Then there’s a menu of the offerings in the cafeteria– which, judging by the fact that it’s called The Bistro , seems super fancy– and parking guidelines for the students who brought vehicles here with them. The thing that catches my eye, though, is the campus map tucked into the back of the folder.
I slide it out, studying the artistic rendering of the campus that has each building marked with a designated letter, coordinating with a little guide in the corner that identifies the name and purpose of each place. I only give the administrative buildings a cursory glance, zeroing in on the places I’ll likely be frequenting the most.
I narrow that down to the library, the buildings designated for classes, and the student union, which houses the cafeteria, gym, coffee shop, and lounge. It’s probably where most of the student body hangs out, other than the grassy quad in the center of campus, so I make a mental note of where it’s located in proximity to the dorms, figuring I’ll check it out when I head over there for dinner this evening.
A few things on the map come as a surprise. In addition to the school buildings, there’s an expansive trail system that runs throughout campus, as well as a decent sized lake on the west side. With all the amenities, this place almost seems like a luxury resort… which is at odds with the huge stone wall fencing the campus grounds and the armed guards at the gate. I can’t decide if Corvus College feels more like a safe haven or a prison.
It’s with that thought that I close the folder and toss it aside, leaning back to rest against the pillows on my bed. At least it’s comfortable. The mattress is soft, topped with a cushy blue duvet, and the pillows are ultra plush.
My head flops to the side and a dark mark in the corner of the white pillowcase catches my eye. I push up on an elbow and lean over to get a better look, brushing my fingers over the double C’s embroidered in the same shade of blue as the comforter. They certainly like their branding here.
I’m still lounging on my new bed, running my fingertips over the thread when I hear the door open. I jolt upright with a start, a small Asian girl stepping into the room and halting in surprise when she sees me lurking inside.
I’m immediately struck by how pretty she is. Her shiny, straight black hair is cut in a blunt bob, parted in the middle with not a single strand out of place. It frames her heart-shaped face, her features delicate and feminine, accentuated by her flawless yet understated makeup. I also can’t help but notice that though she’s petite, she has unnaturally big boobs that just scream surgical enhancement.
“Oh, hi,” she greets, a tight smile creasing her lips. “I heard I was getting a roommate.”
I slide my legs off the bed and rise to stand. “Yeah, hi. I’m Ava.”
“Richelle.” She steps further inside, nudging the door closed behind her. “So, where’d you transfer from?” she asks as she slides her messenger bag off her shoulder and steps over to her desk, pulling out the chair and setting her bag on the seat.
“Community college.”
She whips her head around like I just uttered a dirty word, almond-shaped eyes narrowing as she assesses me. “What’s your last name?” she asks skeptically.
“Morrow.”
Richelle furrows her brow like she’s searching for a connection. “What does your dad do?”
I shake my head. “Don’t have one.”
“Your mom, then?”
“She…” I trail off, knowing there’s no way to sugarcoat my mom’s prior profession and avoid judgment. “She recently married Gideon Romero.”
Richelle’s eyes widen in recognition. “ Oh .”
I turn away to hide the blush I feel creeping across my cheeks, stepping over to my suitcases at the end of the bed. “His son goes here, actually,” I say as I grab the handle of the smallest one. “Do you know–”
“Raf?” she finishes for me as I haul my suitcase up onto the bed. She chuckles wryly. “ Everyone knows Raf.”
The ominous tone in her voice sends a chill skittering up my spine. “What do you mean?” I ask as I turn to face her again.
Richelle squints at me, tilting her head. “You honestly don’t know?”
The look on my face must tell her as much, because she heaves a sigh and plops down on the edge of her own bed, shaking her head.
“Him and his buddies practically own this place,” Richelle bites out with a scowl. “The students, the staff, the security… hell, even the dean. They all answer to them. They’re the reigning Kings.”
“ Kings? ” I snort in amusement.
But she’s not laughing. “You haven’t heard of them? The triad?” Richelle questions, sweeping her curious gaze over me. “Huh.”
I blink back at her. “Care to elaborate?”
“I probably…” she trails off, pursing her lips in consideration. “Well, since you’re here, I guess you’ll find out sooner or later, right?” She waves a hand flippantly before leaning back to rest on her palms. “It’s a whole thing that goes back to when this place was first founded by the Invictus. Every triad comes through here before being unleashed on the world. Your new stepdad? He was a King here, once.”
I shake my head in confusion, hardly believing what I’m hearing. She might as well be speaking a different language. “What does that even mean ? That they’re part of a secret society or something?”
She wrinkles her nose. “You seriously don’t know?”
I just stare back at her. Pretty sure we’ve already established that.
“They’re Kings , Ava,” she deadpans. “They rule.”
I roll my eyes, turning back to my suitcase and unzipping it. “That’s ridiculous,” I grumble as I flip open the lid.
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” Richelle continues, a sharp edge of warning in her tone. “Those boys are ruthless, and they can make or break your experience here. Trust me when I say they’re dangerous.”
I glance back at her over my shoulder, arching a brow.
“I’d tell you to just steer clear of them, but…” she trails off, shrugging. “Well, since you’re Raf’s stepsister, maybe it’ll be different for you. You’re King-adjacent.”
I shake my head with a frown. “I don’t really know him,” I say, swinging around to face her again and folding my arms over my chest. “Our parents just got married a couple months ago and he didn’t even bother to show up to the wedding.”
She chuckles bitterly. “Sounds like Raf.”
The disgust in her voice makes me wonder if there’s some sort of history there. Maybe she’s a scorned lover, or maybe these ‘ Kings ’ targeted her somehow. Or… maybe it’s all bullshit.
“Do you know where I can find him?” I ask.
“Right now?” Richelle pushes to her feet, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. “Down in the gym, probably.”
I nod, stepping over to the desk and pocketing my room key.
“But you can’t go there,” she quickly tacks on.
I spin around, brows drawing together in confusion. “Why not?”
“This is their gym time,” she states like it’s common knowledge. “Every day from four to five. Kings only.”
I fight back another eyeroll, ignoring her warning and retrieving my campus map from the orientation folder before starting for the door. “Well, too bad. I’m gonna go talk to him. I’ll be back later to finish unpacking.”
“Your funeral,” Richelle mutters as I exit the room.
I turn over our conversation in my mind as I navigate my way to the student union, wondering what bizarre world I’ve just stepped into. I mean, I’m not an idiot– I knew Gideon was likely involved in some shady shit judging by how filthy rich he is and the fact he’s always carrying a gun– but him being part of something like what Richelle described never even remotely entered my mind. Organized crime, sure. But a secret society? That’s just too far-fetched, even for me.
Thanks to the campus map, I’m able to find the student union easily enough, following the signs in the lobby to the gym on the lower level. As soon as I hit the bottom of the stairs, I’m met with a view of the enormous weight room through the glass wall spanning the entire length of it– and there must’ve been some merit to Richelle’s claim about the place being off limits at this hour, because there’s only one person inside.
My new stepbrother.
I recognize Raf from the pictures displayed in his father’s mansion, but those old photos hardly do the man justice.
He’s shirtless on the weight bench, the muscles of his arms and torso rippling with his effort to pump the heavy bar overhead. I can’t help but stare because his body is truly a work of art– bulky, yet toned to perfection, his bronze skin gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat as he works through his reps.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me today, but just like when I first saw Wes earlier, I find myself rooted to the spot I’m standing in, completely captivated.
Raf’s thick black hair is longer on top now than it was in the photographs, curling at the ends, and his profile is even sharper, his chiseled jawline more prominent. He might just be the most attractive person I’ve ever seen in real life, and that’s saying something considering how hot Wes is. It’s difficult to compare the two when they’re alluring in such different ways. Wes is your classically handsome, pretty boy type, and Raf… well, he’s more dark and mysterious.
Dangerous.
That’s what Richelle said when she warned me away– that Raf and the other supposed ‘Kings’ of this place are dangerous.
I’m still not sure how much stock I put into her claims, but looking at Raf now, that assessment doesn’t seem too far off. There’s something intimidating about the tight set of his jaw, the way he pushes and lowers that heavy bar over and over like it’s effortless. The circular weights pinned on either side are massive, yet somehow, he makes it seem easy.
I practically fall into a trance watching the repetitive movement. I don’t know how long I’ve been staring, but at some point, my foggy thoughts clear and I realize I can’t just stand out here forever. I came to find my stepbrother for a reason.
When Gideon told me I’d been enrolled at Corvus College, he soothed my anxiety by saying Raf would take care of me. We’re family now, after all, and my mom was right– this is my chance to get to know him. We were friendly as kids, and he’s the only person here I have a connection to. Hopefully he’ll be up for helping me navigate the college experience and make this whole transition a little easier.
With that in mind, I suck in a deep breath and reach for the door handle, shoring up my courage as I enter the gym.