Vendetta (Ivybrook Elite #1)

CHAPTER 1

LANDRY

Bexley and I wove our way through the crowded living room, every inch of space packed with bodies. The heavy bass thumped relentlessly, reverberating through every room of Olivia’s “modest” three-story mansion—a house that had clearly earned its reputation as the ultimate college party haven.

It was my first party since starting at Ivybrook Elite University just a week ago, and judging by Bexley’s wide eyes and jittery energy, it was likely her first party ever. Clutching her hand tightly, I guided her through the throng of rowdy college kids.

Despite it being barely noon on a Sunday, most of the crowd already seemed well past tipsy, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d started drinking as soon as they rolled out of bed. But this was college, and I was ready to dive headfirst into everything these next four years had in store .

“Let’s grab a drink, then we can look for Liv and TJ!” I shouted over the pounding music, miming a drinking motion with my free hand to make sure Bexley understood me above the blaring speakers. We found the kitchen tucked into the far-left corner of the first floor, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and casting a warm glow over the space. The windows offered a perfect view of the backyard pool area, where more partygoers were already gathering. At the center of the kitchen stood a massive marble island, spacious enough for ten barstools and completely covered with everything from imported beer to top-shelf liquor.

I grabbed two cups and started mixing Cosmopolitans, going easy on the vodka for Bexley. After all, I’d already learned about her low tolerance during our first night as roommates. She’d barely made it through a single glass of wine before she was belting out Taylor Swift songs into a wooden spoon and collapsing into fits of laughter at everything I said.

With red solo cups in hand, we maneuvered through the sea of bodies once more, aiming to find our way outside. Descending the first set of steps, we arrived at a spacious landing featuring beer pong tables and a fire pit crackling at its center. From there, we continued down a second set of steps that opened up to a stunning infinity pool, flanked by lush green lawns on either side. The lawns were dotted with covered lounge chairs, offering an escape from the chaos.

I glanced over at the pool house on the right, where a covered patio housed flat-screen TVs and a couple of pool tables. Still, Olivia’s teddy-bear-blonde hair and TJ’s broad shoulders and golden locks were nowhere to be seen. Finally, I spotted them in the hot tub at the far-left end of the pool and pointed us in their direction.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you guys made it!” Olivia squealed, pulling us into a warm embrace, her tan skin radiating heat from the blazing sun.

I had met Olivia a few years back at cheerleading summer camp. We didn’t go to the same high school, but somehow, we’d managed to stay close over the years. She was the only friend I had left after I cut ties with everyone following my accident earlier this year. Olivia had refused to let me slip away into isolation, showing up unannounced at my dad’s estate to drag me out of bed on the days I dodged her calls and wallowed in my depression. I often wondered what I’d done to deserve the unwavering loyalty and love Olivia had always shown me. But in the end, I knew that was just who she was—fiercely loyal to the people she cared about.

“Come on, you guys have to meet the rest of the group!” she said, her voice brimming with excitement as she led us toward the large hot tub, which, thankfully, wasn’t turned on in the ninety-degree heat.

Olivia took the lead, leaving Bexley and I trailing behind. Bex shot me a pleading look, silently begging me to go first. I obliged, stepping ahead while she hovered just behind me. We reached the edge of the hot tub, where Olivia wasted no time climbing in and settling onto her boyfriend’s lap. Her petite frame looked almost comical compared to his towering, muscular build, but they fit together in a way that made perfect sense.

“Guys, meet Landry and Bexley! It’s their first year at Ivybrook,” Olivia announced to the group, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “Landry’s my best friend from high school, and Bex is her roommate. They’re the ones I visited in the dorms last Sunday!”

“Hey guys, I’m Landry. It’s really nice to meet you all!” I said, glancing around at the group. Aside from Olivia and TJ, four guys occupied the space.

“Nate,” said the one sitting closest to Olivia. He gave me a warm smile that deepened the dimples in his cheeks. “I play on the lacrosse team with TJ.” While not as broad as TJ, Nate had an athletic build and shaggy ash-brown hair that added to his laid-back charm.

Next was a guy with a slimmer frame, though still impressively defined. His pale complexion stood out sharply against his jet-black hair and the intricate tattoos that sprawled across his neck, chest, arms, and hands. With the mischievous glint in his dark eyes and his crooked grin, he practically exuded trouble. If I had to guess, Zayn was the wildcard of the group.

Sitting on the tub’s edge next to him was Kaptan—'Kap’, as Olivia introduced him. He had TJ’s imposing build paired with tattoos nearly rivaling Zayn’s in quantity.

And then my gaze landed on the last guy in the group, and I felt my breath hitch. His piercing green eyes locked onto mine with a force that sent a ripple of unease and intrigue down my spine. Something about him felt familiar, though I couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the sheer intensity of his stare, the way it seemed to pin me in place.

Pulling myself together, I extended a hand toward him. He didn’t move, remaining casually reclined back on his arms at the edge of the tub. Yet his posture belied the sharp focus in his expression. Contrary to the indifference he was projecting, there was nothing bored about the way he assessed me from head to toe.

Goosebumps prickled my skin as his emerald gaze burned into me. His hair, almost as dark as Zayn and Kap’s, hung just to his eyes, the sides trimmed slightly shorter. A tiger tattoo sprawled across one side of his chest, its fierce design adding to his commanding presence.

An eternity seemed to pass before he finally broke the silence.

“Cashton.”

He offered nothing more, making no effort to meet my extended hand. I let it fall awkwardly back to my side, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks.

Bexley stepped in with a quick, “Bex,” accompanied by a shy smile and a small wave. She followed me into the hot tub, her timid presence a welcome contrast to the tension simmering around Cashton.

We settled into the open seating near the steps, with Olivia and TJ on Bexley’s right and Cashton—silent and imposing—on my right.

“So, what are you two gorgeous ladies drinking today?” Zayn asked, his cheeky grin solidifying my theory that he was the group’s resident bad boy.

The fiery blush spreading across Bexley’s cheeks had me answering for both of us. “Cosmopolitans—my personal favorite.”

A barely audible snicker came from my right. I didn’t need to look to know it was Cashton. Ignoring him, I turned my attention back to Zayn .

“I know it sounds fancy and pretentious, but it’s really just four ingredients. They’re refreshing without being too sweet—perfect for summer weather.”

“Hey, no judgment here. I love a good Cosmo,” Zayn replied, flashing an easy smile.

“So, tell me, Landry, do you make yours with Grey Goose or Belvedere?” Cashton’s mocking voice cut through the conversation.

“Tito’s, actually,” I responded. “And only because I’m allergic to bottom-shelf vodka.”

“Let me guess—you’re also allergic to polyester and anything that hasn’t been prepared in a five-star kitchen?”

I turned sharply to face him, irritation bubbling up. What was this guy’s problem? I’d known him all of five minutes, and it already felt like he had a personal vendetta against me.

“Cash!” Olivia scolded, cutting through the tension before I could deliver a retort. “Why are you being such a dick? I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but tone it down. That was uncalled for.”

Without another word, Cashton abruptly stood, his height towering over the group as he stalked off. What a dick. I hadn’t done anything to him, yet he seemed determined to ruin my day over my drink of choice?

I forced myself to let the thought go and rejoin the conversation, refusing to let Cashton’s sour attitude ruin my first real college party. Instead, I tuned into TJ and Nate’s animated discussion about next week’s away game, while Zayn attempted to coax Bexley into using a beer funnel. When she declined with a shy laugh, he shrugged and demonstrated it himself, much to everyone’s amusement .

This year was supposed to be my fresh start. And so far, I loved this group—well, everyone except mister grumpy-pants, Cashton. But I wasn’t about to let his bad attitude ruin things for me.

Still, I couldn’t completely shake him from my mind. As much as I wanted to let it go, that little voice in my head kept gnawing at the encounter, picking apart every detail. Worse yet, I couldn’t ignore the infuriating warmth pooling low in my stomach whenever my thoughts drifted back to him.

I really needed to get a grip. As frustratingly hot as Cashton was, he was also a complete and utter asshole. And I would be staying as far away from him as possible.

“Heads up!” I lunged forward, managing to bump the ball back over the net before plunging underwater from the effort. A few drinks and the volleyball net strung across the shallow end of the pool had ignited my competitive streak, and it hadn’t taken much convincing to get the group to join in.

Our team consisted of Olivia, Nate, Kaptan, two girls whose names I’d already forgotten, and me. TJ and Zayn had joined the opposing side to even out the boys-to-girls ratio, and we were now locked in a tie-breaker game. I was loving every second of it.

The opposing team sent the ball flying out of bounds, where it landed with a loud thud near a group of girls lounging on the turf. Zayn wasted no time using it as an excuse to saunter over and strike up a conversation, the girls responding with overly eager laughter that echoed above the music.

Taking advantage of the break, I waded over to where Bexley sat poolside, her pale legs dangling into the water. She had opted out of playing, and given how rare social outings seemed to be for her, I wasn’t surprised. Her face lit up when she saw me approach, grinning as she handed me a drink.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were competitive!” she teased. “Even the guys are struggling to keep up with you. I’m impressed.”

I shrugged, laughing as I took a sip. “What can I say? Winning is in my blood.”

After our team claimed victory in the final round, we decided to take a break. I excused myself to refill my drink, offering to grab one for anyone else.

As I pushed through the crowd and into the kitchen, I spotted a tall figure at the marble island. His toned back was unmistakable, and so was the energy he carried—Cashton.

His dark hair caught the sunlight as he poured a drink from one of the kegs beneath the counter. Next to him stood a raven-haired girl who was speaking animatedly, though he didn’t seem particularly engaged. His focus remained on the beer in his hand.

Something about the scene made my heart race, though I couldn’t tell if it was annoyance, nerves, or maybe the liquid courage I’d been sipping on all afternoon. Either way, I found myself walking toward him, driven by the lingering tension from earlier.

I needed to know what his deal was. I hated being disliked, especially when I didn’t know why. Maybe it was a character flaw—or maybe it stemmed from something deeper, like the fact that my remaining parent often seemed indifferent to my existence. But that was a rabbit hole I wasn’t about to dive into .

What mattered now was fixing whatever was going on with Cashton. Olivia was one of my closest friends, and if her group was as tight-knit as it seemed, I couldn’t afford to let this weird tension fester.

Before I could second-guess myself, I closed the distance between us, my eyes locking on Cashton and the girl at his side.

“Hey Cashton?”

The moment his eyes locked on mine, a shiver raced down my spine. His eyes were mesmerizing, the brightest green flecked with amber and gold that glinted in the sunlight. But his features hardened instantly, and the anxiety creeping through me only grew.

The girl at his side looked me up and down, sizing me up as if I were competition. I forced the warmest smile I could muster, despite the nerves twisting my stomach.

“Hi, I’m Landry. I’m really sorry to interrupt, but could I speak to Cashton for just a moment? I promise I’ll bring him right back.”

Her expression remained unreadable as she glanced from me to him.

“No.”

His gruff response hit like a slap, a sharp pang of embarrassment tightening my chest. But if he thought I’d give up that easily, he didn’t know me. Ignoring the girl, I pressed on.

“Look, about earlier—I’m sorry if I did something to upset you. It wasn’t my intention, I swear. I just wanted to clear the air. Olivia is one of my closest friends, and I’d like for us to get along, maybe even become friends ourselves. So whatever it is I did to annoy you, can we just talk about it and sort it out? ”

He stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, though his eyes burned with something that felt like barely restrained anger. Or was it disdain?

“Listen, Landry, I don’t want to be friends. As a matter of fact, I want absolutely nothing to do with you.”

The mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling inside me snapped into something sharper. My liquor-fueled confidence urged me forward, unwilling to let him steamroll me.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I demanded. “I literally just met you today! What could I have possibly done in the ten seconds of knowing you that has you acting like this?”

“You want to know my problem, blondie?” He leaned in slightly, his voice low and laced with venom. “You. You’re my fucking problem. Because I know you. I might have just met you, but I know exactly the kind of girl you are. Little Miss Popular, who always gets her way, coasting on daddy’s money and a trust fund that keeps you from lifting a finger. Let me guess, cheerleading captain in high school? Did you also have a maid and a private chef? And those fake tits—were they a graduation gift?”

My mouth fell open, stunned into silence. For a moment, I was sure I’d misheard him. But no—his sneering expression confirmed it. Anger and humiliation warred within me, heating my cheeks as I struggled to find a response.

“First of all, fuck you,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I’d intended. “And second, my tits are not fake!”

A horrible comeback, sure, but the audacity of his words had knocked all the fight from my brain. His little friend looked thoroughly amused but kept silent, likely realizing it was better to stay out of this .

Cashton’s lips quirked into a smirk, revealing a dimple that only served to infuriate me more.

“Prove it.”

I froze, the conversation taking such a bizarre turn that it gave me mental whiplash.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I practically shouted, all self-control evaporating. The glint of amusement in his eyes only grew as I stood there, seething. His cocky posture, leaning back against the counter with arms crossed, did nothing to help my anger—or my sudden, infuriating attraction to him.

I took a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions before speaking again.

“You know what? I’m not entertaining this anymore. I’ll be around Olivia and TJ whether you like it or not, so respectfully, fuck off and leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed at that. “Gladly.”

I reached around him to snatch the bottle of vodka off the counter before storming off. My hands shook with residual anger as I marched through the crowd, taking a long swig straight from the bottle. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, but I refused to look back.

I wasn’t usually confrontational, and I had no idea where that side of me had come from. Cashton had managed to claw at the fight buried deep within me, and I hated how he made me feel. But underneath the anger was something far worse—hurt.

His words hit closer to home than I cared to admit. Because, on some level, I feared he was right. Or at least, I feared being seen that way. And that was the worst part of all.

Was my family wealthy? Yes. Had I been a cheerleader in high school? Also yes. But none of those things defined who I was. I didn’t want to be liked because of superficial things—I wanted people to see me. And for Cashton to throw all of that in my face, without even knowing me, reopened wounds I thought I’d healed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and games. I made a conscious effort to keep the incident with Cashton to myself, determined not to let him ruin my fresh start. By the time Bexley and I called an Uber to leave, I was drained in every sense of the word.

When we reached the front gates, I cursed myself for breaking the seal earlier. “How long until it gets here?” I asked, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“About fifteen minutes,” Bexley replied with a chuckle. “Go. You’ve got time to pee, and if I need to, I’ll tell the driver to wait.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” I didn’t waste a second, turning and running back toward the house.

The first bathroom had a line a mile long, and the second and third were locked. With no time to spare, I headed upstairs, figuring the bedrooms must have en-suites.

The hallway was quieter, the music and chatter fading into the background as I stumbled from door to door. Alcohol clouded my focus, and my search became increasingly frantic. Finally, I opened a door—and froze in place at the sight before me.

A king-sized bed in the center of the room was made up with a silk comforter the color of obsidian. White-washed furniture complimented the space, though the walls were devoid of any decor and there weren’t any indicators of personal belongings to be seen .

But I barely noticed any of it because against the far wall by the window was Cashton, leaning against the wall, his head laid back.

Even more shocking was the head of glossy black hair that he had in his grasp, the girl that he had been with earlier on her knees and swallowing his cock as her moans filled the room.

The instant his gaze locked onto mine, my body betrayed me. Every ounce of free will vanished as I stood frozen in place, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. His piercing stare burned into mine, the vein in his neck pulsing angrily, each beat amplifying the raw tension between us. That same murderous glare from earlier was now sharper, more deliberate, as if daring me to speak—or flee.

And yet, I couldn’t move. My muscles felt paralyzed, my mind screaming at me to turn around and leave. But my body refused to obey, rooted to the spot as if tethered by an invisible force I couldn’t shake.

Eyes still on mine, he had me in a trance of sorts as his grip on her hair tightened and his thrusts became more aggressive, the vein in his neck bulging as his jaw clenched harder. I could hear her starting to gag at his quickening movements, unable to keep up with the aggressive pace.

Without consent, my eyes drifted down his god-like body and I felt myself growing wet between my legs. My brain finally cleared long enough for me to spin on my heels, slamming the door closed beside me as I ran back down the hallway from where I had originally come from.

I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that my face was as red as a tomato as I made my way back downstairs, deciding that I could hold my restroom demands until we got back to the dorms. I felt like my body was on fire, and I was highly unsettled by the unwelcome throbbing taking place between my thighs.

Back at our campus apartment, Bexley and I ordered takeout before exhaustion overtook us, sending each of us to our respective rooms. My head pounded, a dull throb that I couldn’t tell was from dehydration, the alcohol, or maybe both.

I forced myself into the walk-in shower, my body heavy with fatigue. The warm water cascaded over me, soothing my aching muscles and rinsing away the chlorine from my hair. I tried my best to scrub it all out, though my drunken clumsiness made it a losing battle.

Still, it wasn’t the sting of exhaustion or the burn of water in my eyes that consumed me—it was the one image that kept flashing in my mind, over and over again, each time my eyelids fluttered shut.

And as I made the decision to shut the rational part of my brain down for a moment, I let myself fall into that one image that was now ingrained in my head.

Eyes still closed, I leaned back against the shower wall and let my hand roam down my stomach, the tips of my fingers finally grazing my sensitive clit. The dampness between my thighs hadn’t settled since leaving the party, and I was deciding to give into it.

My fingers made small circles over the sensitive bud, nearly causing my body to go slack before sliding two fingers inside of myself and letting out a small moan. I wanted to mentally berate myself for envisioning his face as I drew the pleasure from myself, frustrated by the disconnect between my body and my brain .

But as I brought myself to climax with the memory of his eyes searing through me, I felt all of the tension releasing from my body. And as I collapsed into bed, my head sinking into the cool satin pillows, the only thought echoing in my mind before sleep claimed me was, What the hell just happened?