Chapter 2
I stood watching the ballroom from the sidelines and took a long, slow sip from the glass of whisky in my hand, savouring the burn as it slid down my throat. The amber liquid glinted in the soft light of the chandeliers, a stark contrast to the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. I should have been happy, elated even. I had just been named one of the three Covenant House Regents for the next school year, along with my best friends Cole and Ryder. It was the pinnacle of success at Regents, a position that most students would kill for. But for me, it felt more like a noose tightening around my neck.
It wasn't like I didn't know that I would be getting the prestigious position; my father had pretty much insisted on it. And if Nicholas Bale said he wanted something to happen, then you'd be damn sure you would make it happen. Especially if you didn't want to end up at the bottom of a ditch, or worse, as part of the foundation of one of his new buildings. I suppressed a shudder at the thought, taking another generous gulp of whisky. My father's methods were brutal, but effective. I'd seen firsthand what happened to those who crossed him, and it wasn't pretty.
I personally couldn't give a rat's arse about being a Regent, or even going to university at all. If it were up to me, I'd have been doing what I did best: working in the family business, helping my father build the empire that I was set to inherit. But dear old Dad wanted an in at the Trivium, and since he'd never gone to one of the feeder schools, he wasn't eligible. So, it was up to me to fall in line like the good little soldier he expected me to be.
Truth be told, the whole charade made my skin crawl. I was Logan bloody Bale, for Christ's sake. I should've been out there, making deals, breaking kneecaps, and showing everyone why the Bale name was one to be feared and respected. Instead here I was, surrounded by posh twats who'd never seen the inside of a proper fight, let alone orchestrated one.
"You’d do well to take this time to make connections, boy," the strong cockney voice of my father, laced with concealed disappointment, rang out as he appeared beside me from seemingly nowhere. "Not standing here sulking like some petulant child."
"I'm not sulking," I snapped back at him, my voice sharper than I'd intended, causing him to raise an eyebrow at my tone. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "I am watching. You always told me that you can learn a lot by watching." I added, trying to sound more composed, more like the heir he wanted me to be.
My father huffed slightly, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the action. I could smell the familiar scent of his expensive cologne mixed with cigar smoke.
I nodded over to an older couple standing with a young girl who was barely even fifteen, if only by a day. The sight made my stomach churn, but I kept my face impassive, knowing my father would expect nothing less.
"Jonas Garfield is taking his marriage duties too far for one," I said, allowing the distaste to seep into my voice. I couldn't help but clench my fist at my side, my knuckles turning white with the effort of restraining my anger. "His attention on his new stepdaughter is keener than her mother's." My father's attention zeroed in on the couple just as the man reached around his new wife to grope at the girl. I watched as his eyes narrowed, a flicker of disgust passing across his features before he schooled them back into neutrality. It was rare to see any emotion from him, and I felt a small surge of pride that I'd noticed something that even he found reprehensible.
"Well spotted," my father growled. "I believe he was one of McIntyre's men, was he not?" I nodded briefly. William McIntyre had been one of the council at the Trivium until a couple of years ago when his trafficking business had been revealed, and he had been caught. The man was rotting away in a Trivium prison, and his estate was still in the process of being dismantled after his son and Heir Alec McIntyre had gone missing. I knew that James Killinham had been instrumental in getting the organisation shut down, but I also knew that it had resulted in him getting a prime position on the Trivium Council. My father encouraged me to build connections with the former Covenant Regent, not just because of his own connections, but also because if there was one thing my father didn't stand for, it was child trafficking. The Bale family may be known for guns, drugs and even the occasional paid assassination, but we drew the line at hurting children.
"I believe I will have a word with Killinham. Do you think you could teach our friend Garfield a discreet lesson?" My father hissed. I nodded quickly and my father grunted in approval before heading off to find Killinham.
I kept my eyes on Garfield, watching his every move like a hawk. The bastard's hands were all over his stepdaughter, and it made my skin crawl. I'd have to time this perfectly, I couldn't just disappear from my own bloody celebration without raising eyebrows.
As I plotted, my mind drifted back to that purple-haired girl from earlier. The way she'd mouthed off to me... Christ, it still got under my skin. Who did she think she was? Nobody spoke to Logan Bale like that.
But fuck me if it hadn't turned me on something fierce. That fire in her eyes, the way she'd stood her ground. It brought out a side of me I usually kept locked down tight. I wanted to grab her, bend her over my knee and show her what happened to bratty princesses who didn't know their place.
My cock twitched at the thought, and I shifted uncomfortably. Get it together, Bale. I had more pressing matters to attend to. Still, I couldn't shake the image of her, all attitude and curves. I'd teach her some manners, alright. Have her begging for forgiveness... and then begging for more.
I was yanked from my dark, lustful musings by the arrival of Ryder and Cole. Ryder was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes wide as saucers and a ridiculous grin plastered across his face. He looked like a kid who'd just been told Christmas was coming early.
"Logan, you'll never guess who I just met," Ryder gushed, gripping my arm with surprising strength. I raised an eyebrow, my attention still half on Garfield across the room.
"Sebastian Lynch," Ryder continued, not waiting for a response. His voice dropped to an awed whisper. " The Sebastian Lynch. Can you believe it?" He looked ready to swoon, for fuck's sake. Cole snorted, rolling his mismatched eyes.
"Christ, Ryder, calm down before you come in your fucking pants." Cole teased. I smirked, despite my preoccupation. Ryder's obsession with Lynch was well-known among our circle, bordering on hero worship. The man was a legend in certain circles, ruthless, efficient, and utterly deadly. Everything Ryder aspired to be, and then some.
I had to admit, even I was a bit impressed. Lynch wasn't just anyone - he was Trivium royalty, the kind of bloke who could make problems disappear with a snap of his fingers. Dad had mentioned him once or twice, always with a mix of respect and wariness.
I rolled my eyes, swirling the amber liquid in my glass before taking another long sip of whisky. The smooth burn slid down my throat as I fixed Ryder with a sceptical look.
"Did you actually speak to him, or just drool from afar?" I asked, my tone dripping with amusement. I couldn't help but smirk as Ryder's face fell slightly, his earlier bravado deflating like a punctured balloon.
"Well, no," he admitted, shifting uncomfortably. "But I was this close," he held up his thumb and forefinger, barely a hair's breadth apart, as if that somehow made up for his lack of actual interaction. "He nodded at me. I swear, it was like being acknowledged by God himself." Cole burst out laughing, the sound rich and mocking.
"A nod? Bloody hell, mate. Next thing you know, you'll be telling us he winked at you."
I chuckled along with Cole, but my attention was quickly drawn back to Garfield. The sleazy bastard had moved closer to the bar, his hand still resting far too low on his stepdaughter's back for my liking. My jaw clenched involuntarily, a familiar surge of disgust and anger rising in my chest.
"Logan?" Cole's voice cut through my concentration. "You alright? You seem... distracted." I waved him off.
"It's nothing. Just keeping an eye on things."
Ryder, oblivious to my tension, continued to prattle on about Lynch. "Did you know he's the youngest person ever to be appointed to the Trivium Council without being a Regent first? The man's a bloody genius."
"Yes, Ryder," Cole sighed. "We know. You've only told us about a hundred times."
I spotted Ryder's younger cousin, Luce, across the room, her blonde hair catching the light. My mind immediately flashed back to the purple-haired spitfire from earlier. Luce had been the one to pull her away, hadn't she?
"Ryder," I interrupted, cutting off his endless prattle about Lynch. "Have you spoken to your cousin yet?"
Ryder blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic.
Ryder's tone shifted instantly at the mention of his cousin. The boyish excitement drained from his face, replaced by a cold, calculating look that reminded me why we were friends in the first place.
"Yep. I spoke to her" he said, his voice low and measured. "She was... reluctant to share much about her little friend. You know how she gets when it comes to protecting people." I nodded, unsurprised. Luce had always been the soft one in his family, more interested in helping others than playing the games we all lived for. I knew her father was very keen to keep her away from our less than legit movements, despite his own brother, and Ryder's father being the one that kept half of my father's men from seeing the inside of a courtroom. It was almost admirable, in a pathetic sort of way.
"But," Ryder continued, a sly smile creeping across his face, "I managed to get what we needed. Her name's Cadence Turner. First year scholarship student, studying English Literature. Grew up with her grandparents. No mother or father that Luce knew of. Bit of a rebel, from what Luce let slip. Doesn't seem to give two shits about the social hierarchy here."
I listened intently as Ryder spoke, my mind racing. Cadence Turner. Even her name sent a jolt through me, my cock twitching in response. But then Ryder's words truly sank in. Scholarship student. Something clicked into place.
"Hang on," I said, holding up a hand to stop Ryder mid-sentence. "Did you say scholarship student?" Ryder nodded, a look of confusion crossing his face.
"Yeah, why?" I remembered Julia's sneering comments earlier about the 'charity cases' lowering the standards of the university. A slow, wicked grin spread across my face as an idea began to form.
"Boys," I said, leaning in close. "I think I've just had a stroke of genius." Cole raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Do tell." I took a swig of whisky, savouring the burn as I laid out my plan.
"What if Miss Turner was to… say have an upgrade to her scholarship status?" Ryder's eyes widened as he caught on.
"The Court Scholarship?"
I nodded, feeling a surge of excitement. "Exactly. Think about it. We get her under our control, teach her exactly where she belongs in the pecking order." Cole's mismatched eyes glinted with interest.
"And if she steps out of line..."
"We yank that scholarship right out from under her," I finished, a cruel edge to my voice. "She'd be out on her arse before she could blink, drowning in debt." Ryder let out a low whistle.
"Bloody brilliant, mate." I turned to Ryder, a wicked grin spreading across my face.
"So, reckon you could make it happen?" Ryder's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. He leaned in close, his voice low and filled with excitement.
"Oh, it's more than possible, Logan. Give me an hour with the university's systems, and I'll have Miss Turner's name at the top of the list." A thrill ran through me at his words. The thought of having Cadence Turner under our control, at our mercy, sent a surge of heat straight to my groin. I could already picture her defiant blue eyes, that smart mouth of hers trembling as she realised just how precarious her position had become.
"Brilliant," I murmured, taking another swig of whisky to hide my growing arousal. "We'll teach her exactly where she belongs in the grand scheme of things. But not before we have our fun, eh boys?" Cole chuckled darkly.
"Oh, I can think of a few ways to knock that attitude out of her." I nodded, my mind racing with possibilities.
"We'll break her down, piece by piece. Show her what happens to princesses who don't know their place." My cock twitched in my trousers and I shifted slightly, trying to hide my obvious excitement. Ryder's grin widened.
"And if she steps out of line…?" he asked, and I couldn't help but grin.
"She won't," I said. The image of Cadence on her knees, begging for forgiveness, for mercy, or even with her defiant mouth around my cock flashed through my mind. I'd make her work for it, make her prove just how sorry she was. And then I'd show her exactly what happened to naughty girls who crossed Logan Bale.
I glanced over and saw Garfield on the move, heading towards a quiet corner with his hand gripping his stepdaughter's arm, a look of terror on her face, and my mood soured. I downed the rest of my whisky and set the glass aside, ready to make my move.
"Where are you going?" Cole asked, looking in the direction I was glaring.
"I got another lesson to teach and some fingers to break. Care to join?" I didn't look back at my friends, knowing that they would be stepping into line behind me. First, we'd deal with this bastard, then we would have some fun.