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Tori
T here’s something about my life that feel so surreal, that I feel like I’m watching a movie rather than living it. And even as I’m watching everything unfold live, in front of my eyes, it’s still not feeling real.
I’ve changed so much over the last couple of years, that if you had told me I was going to end up getting off on showering in front of a guy who absolutely loathed me, I’d have laughed.
I’m not sure if this version of me is stronger or weaker. Maybe I’m finding some weird defense mechanism to get through this, and years from now, I’m going to need thousands of dollars’ worth of therapy. And I’m really not sure how long I’ll be able to do this for…
While I never imagined a time where I’d have to strip and shower like that in front of anyone, I wasn’t shy or unconfident with my body. I liked my figure. When I had money, I dressed to show it off. From about the age of fourteen, I’d been aware of what power my body held.
Besides, it wasn’t like I hadn’t been naked on an altar while Syn, Royal, and Gemini filled every hole with their cocks.
It’s a little late to be shy.
And I’m sure Syn would enjoy it more if he thinks I hate it.
Getting naked in front of him isn’t something I’m desperate to do, but the moment I saw how hard he was? That was the moment I started to enjoy it.
Guys can’t control their boners… blah, blah, blah.
Whether that’s because of me or because the blood in his body chose, by complete coincidence, at that moment to rush straight to his dick, the fact is, he’d gotten hard in front of me.
That had to have killed him.
Some of the things that Syn has put in place to torment me—or at least what I think he’s trying to do—are more irritating than tormenting.
Clothes, being at the top of the list.
I’m not sure if he’s got a dedicated closet in his bedroom, but before I can go to sleep, I need to go to his room to get my nightwear. Last night, it was a skimpy yet silky nightgown.
Back in my dorm room, where someone had messed around with my air conditioning and set it to permanently blast out arctic air, that dress would have been an issue, but even sleeping in a dog bed, this house is warm.
Well, I’d pulled the bedding out of the basket so I could stretch my legs out—but I still had covers to curl up under. While this one does burn me, especially with what Syn was inferring, this won’t be the thing that breaks me. It was still comfier to sleep on than the secondhand bunk bed in my mom’s apartment back in Jersey.
Last night, Syn also handed over my first set of clothes for today: the maid uniform.
I was certain he’d have done something to make it different than the others. Honestly, I’d be less surprised if the outfit consisted of nipple tassels and just the maid apron. Instead, I put it on, and while it’s more suited to a Halloween party than a real place of work, there don’t seem to be any nasty surprises. I also look good in it.
Doris, the dining hall manager, sees me when I walk in wearing the outfit and presses her lips together. The kitchens open two hours before the breakfast service so the kitchen staff can prepare the food. After having worked there until recently, I’m no stranger to the process.
Given that Doris seems more surprised it’s me rather than any other student, I’m sure she’s been informed that the Elite initiations are ongoing and to allow someone in before the dining hall opens.
She walks over to me, folds her arms and looks me up and down with her lips pursed. “When you left here, I never thought you’d end up in this.”
My leaving consisted of me quitting before she could fire me because Lissa had thrown a fit, accusing me of throwing things at her. If I hadn’t quit, and Doris didn’t fire me, Lissa’s dad would have probably got the whole kitchen staff fired.
“Sometimes you’ve gotta do what you gotta do,” I told her, dryly.
Her eyes finally stop flicking up and down as she takes in my appearance, her attention lingering on my collar before her gaze settles on my face.
“I’m sure that at your age, it doesn’t seem like it, but there are much more important things in life than money, and I’m not sure you’re going to find them with these people, Ms. Tori.” She glances around her before taking a step closer and lowering her voice. “You’d be safer making a deal with the devil himself.”
I never told Doris who I really am, but considering how the first half of this semester went down, she has to know by now.
The fact that she says that—while looking genuinely concerned for me—makes my heart swell. These days, it feels like there are so few people in my life looking out for me.
Doris is one of those women with genes that make it impossible to say how old she is. She could be in her early forties, but I suspect she’s older. She has dark skin, with few blemishes and even fewer wrinkles. Her hair is kept short, with the ends of her curls dyed a crimson red, which today, match her lipstick.
I had needed the job in the kitchen because although I’d managed to get a scholarship, I still needed money. I’d also hoped that behind the swinging doors and in the kitchens, the staff would know the secrets the college was hiding so well.
But if anyone did know any details to help me find out what happened the night James Patrick Keyingham was murdered, no one here was talking.
When I don’t say anything, Doris sighs. “When the others arrive, I’ll go over the protocol.”
“It’s just me.”
Jutting her leg as she puts her hands on her lips, Doris sucks her teeth. In that moment, I get the feeling this woman is creating a mental list and preparing herself for war.
And it’s in this moment that I also realize I’ll need to keep my distance from her.
The nicest thing Syn could do is have her fired, and I refuse to let this woman—or any of the staff—lose their jobs, or worse, because of me.
I flick my head so that the hair from my long blue ponytail whips over my shoulder, and I embody the sass and entitlement of a Karen. “At least, when this is over, I won’t be serving anyone again.”
Saying those twelve words was the worst thing I’ve been forced to do because of Syn, and I want to take them back the moment I see the hurt flash through Doris’s eyes.
Mine have been wide open since my family lost everything, especially to the entitlement I one had without even realizing it. I’d taken my status for granted, assuming my future would be vastly different from my current reality. But even the fourteen-year-old brat I’d once been would never have said that.
Doris and I never had the opportunity to get close, and maybe I was misreading the extent of her kindness, because it was lacking in my life. Either way, I just ensured that will never happen.
At least she won’t be a target, and hopefully now, not even collateral damage.
Doris’s demeanor changes almost immediately. The frosty yet polite manner I’ve seen her use when serving the rest of the student body is suddenly directed at me. With no words, she starts walking towards the far end of the dining hall.
Trying to fight through my regret and disappointment, I hurry after her.
“The president and the vice presidents only ever sit at one table, which I’m sure you’re familiar with by now,” Doris says as we walk past it.
I’m sure the whole campus is aware of exactly which table Syn sits at.
For the last few weeks, I’d been eating my meals—if you could even call the fist-sized lump of plain rice a meal—in front of it. Syn had somehow gotten a small, metal table installed in the room, despite the fact it didn’t match any of the furnishings.
The table was just too small for my legs to fit under it and sit comfortably, and because it’s directly beneath an air vent, it was always cold.
However, the table is gone.
Given the money Syn has, I’m not surprised he’s been able to orchestrate anything so far—even if he is still just a college kid. But the lack of table does add a new knot of worry to my stomach.
Hopefully, he meant what he said when he told me I could eat after they had. I’d happily eat my meals in the kitchen loading bays as long as I don’t have to go back to the small portions of lukewarm, unseasoned rice.
The door Doris leads me to is to a small closet. Inside are immaculate white tablecloths, a pile of clean table runners, pressed napkins, and silver napkin rings with the university crest engraved in them.
After weeks of eating in front of the table, I’m sure that I know how it needs to be set up, but I listen to Doris as she lists off each requirement in a clipped tone.
Most colleges have a Greek system, and whether they’re supposed to or not, most pledges must go through some kind of hazing ritual. Being a servant is one of the least humiliating or painful tasks I would be doing.
I’m prepared for Syn turning up at the last minute so I have to rush through my meals or else be late to classes. I’m also ready for him to claim that I’ve brought the wrong food and will be doing laps between his table and the kitchen in the stupid high heels I’m wearing. If anything, I really had been expecting to do it in a thong.
Although I’ve set the table up, including the two fresh flower arrangements which are delivered daily just for this table, before the dining hall opens, neither Syn, Royal, nor Gemini arrive with the first wave of students.
Ignoring the sneers, stares of confusion, and looks of utter disbelief sent in my direction, I take my place against the wall, behind the table, and wait.
Breakfast is served between seven and nine. Thankfully, even if Syn keeps me waiting until 8:55, my first class isn’t until ten.
Penny walks in at 7:30; her eyes instantly meet mine. Her first class is the same as mine, so I’m surprised to see her in so early. Today, her long pink hair is braided into two braids, and she’s already wearing her uniform. She pauses just to the side of the door and arches an eyebrow, tilting her head.
Subtly, I shake my head.
Penny purses her lips, then heads over to the food.
For both the breakfast and lunch service, JKU has a self-service system. Although their meals are exceptionally high quality, they have several tables and appliances fully stocked so students can grab as much as they want.
Unless they’re Syn, Royal, and Gemini, of course.
It doesn’t take Penny long to walk out, carrying only a large mug of what is most likely green tea. She walks towards me but stops just far enough away that we wouldn’t be able to talk to each other without shouting.
Like my own bodyguard, she sits down, angling her body so she’s sitting sideways on her seat, leaning against the wall. From that angle, she has an almost panoramic view of the dining hall.
Hidden behind my back, I can’t stop myself from squeezing my hands together.
I know what she’s doing, and I adore her for it. But even though Syn agreed to my only addition to the contract—leave Penny alone—I just don’t trust him.
I’d rather Penny keeps her distance from me, especially in public places like this.
Although she won’t.
She told me as much.
Over the next hour, the waves of students coming in for breakfast get bigger. As suspected, Syn doesn’t appear until 8:30. Neither Royal nor Gemini are with him, and although he’s alone, he somehow has people swarming to him like he’s a celebrity.
While he’s not as good looking as Royal, he’s not completely unattractive. But there’s something about him that just seems to draw people to him.
Like flies to shit…
The thought amuses me, and I smile just as Syn looks over at me.
He stares back. Then he starts walking to the table. Only, halfway there, he spots Penny.