Chapter 5
FIVE
JULIEN
I can’t believe she has the audacity to show her face at my school.
Riley Whittier has no clue what she’s in for and I’ll take pleasure in making her life at Pointebreak hell.
She should have stayed as far from me as possible.
Does my little lamb know this might as well be a slaughterhouse?
Pointebreak isn’t for the faint of heart, and last I knew, she was a dainty flower.
Based on the casual way she’s been walking around, she has absolutely no idea what’s in store for her.
Rule number one of Pointebreak is never be alone.
Ava clearly hasn’t explained the rules to her.
She can’t die while? under the administration's care, but that doesn’t mean someone can’t fuck with her for fun.
I pace back and forth like a caged animal in my room, fuming.
Her being here threw a wrench into my plans.
I live in a house at the edge of campus with Zander and Wesley—courtesy of Alec Azarian, my dad.
It’s been in our family for generations, but sat empty prior to me moving me.
I've always received the best, and this is no exception. He wanted me to come to Pointebreak. He told me the contacts I made here would set me up for life. Along with the education they offer, I knew it was the best option for me. Plus, a traditional education has never suited me. Not when I’m an Azarian.
As soon as I had my acceptance letter in hand, the house renovations started, so it would be ready for me to move in.
Tension strains my muscles as I tug at the back of my neck, trying to ease some of the pressure.
I roll my shoulders and grit when I look up at Zander, who knocks on the door frame and meets his gaze.
I clench my jaw, waiting for him to say something, anything, but he stares, waiting for me to talk first. He always has been good in our torture classes.
Others sing like canaries, but he has this crazy ability to keep silent.
The man hardly ever breaks. I gotta give him credit for it.
He cracks the knuckles on his hand and blows out a breath.
“What?” I bark, unable to contain my frustration.
“Everything’s set for the bonfire and students should be here within the hour,” he replies, casually crossing his arms over his chest as he leans on the frame. I know there’s so much more he wants to say, but Zander has always been a man of few words.
He’s waiting.
Watching.
He always watches.
Dad started the bonfire when he attended Pointebreak, and I brought it back at the house instead of a random part of the woods.
That’s how I became friends with Wesley and Zander.
I needed help, and they were willing. It didn’t take long to figure out we meshed well together.
Our strengths enhance one another. What one person lacks, the others make up for it.
It’s why we own this school. We aren’t lacking people who want to get into our good graces.
And each of us are working on building an empire together.
Fuck everyone else. We’re doing it our own way.
My dad is the only one who can appreciate our plans.
Wes and Zan’s fathers have already made their opinion of me known and they can get bent as far as I’m concerned.
We hire a crew of ten guys to come and get everything set for tonight, along with playing bar keep and DJ.
It’s a good side gig for them, and we pay well.
For security, we hire fourth-year students who want to earn a bit of cash.
We vet those guys, but so far it’s worked out well.
Pointebreak doesn’t host events, but we sure as hell do.
And when you get this many powerful families in one location, shit is bound to go down.
A few times a year, Wes, Zan, and I host a party.
The bonfire and Halloween, everyone’s invited to.
Enemies, or allies, it doesn’t matter. Since there are some classes that include all grades, it’s an easy way to get to know your opponents and hopefully get some helpful information to use as dirt at a later time.
The other parties are for each of our birthdays, but that’s by invitation only.
I don’t need some asshole with a point to prove to mess with us at our own house during those.
Students don’t talk about the school outside of these walls—there’s an unwritten rule about it.
Someone tried once…he’s six feet under. Or maybe they never found his body, I’m not sure.
Those who don’t understand would shut Pointebreak down.
Because students and alumni are so tight-lipped about what happens here, we don’t take kindly to outsiders.
Riley Whittier is definitely an outsider.
For many students, tonight will significantly impact their future prospects and their ability to achieve their aspirations after graduation. People either fall in with the right crowd and make the right connections, or they’re fucked the rest of their time here. Just ask our fathers.
Alec Azarian, Mikhail Fedorov, and Christos Bastian are the OG bastards at Pointebreak.
They changed, molded, and shaped this academy into what it is today.
The pamphlet talks about how it was a school for underprivileged students forging for a better life but that’s some major bullshit to sell it to the public.
The walls of this house hold a lot of secrets, and so do the academy grounds.
My mind drifts yet again to Riley. The image of holding her by the throat and feeling her reaction to my touch causes my fingers to twitch with anticipation.
Who would have thought the wholesome, na?ve senator's daughter was into some kinky shit? I could practically smell her arousal. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind since the moment I laid eyes on her, no matter how hard I try.
And to smell her and touch her today was unreal.
It shouldn’t be happening like this, though.
The guys don’t know about my run in with her this afternoon.
I know I would get the standard lecture of ‘let it go’, but I can’t.
My nostrils flare as my anger rears up again.
“Calm down. You can’t let her get into your head. You know what you have to do.” Zander steps into my room, directly into my line of sight.
Zander’s our resident computer wiz. Need someone to hack into a system?
He’s the man you go to. Students pay him an ungodly amount to help them with some shady things.
He doesn’t ask questions, just makes sure the money is good.
It’s a lucrative side business and one that will go a long way to helping us after we finish here.
Zander’s the reason Riley’s bunking with his little sister, Ava.
Originally, Ava had a private room, but when Riley was added to the roster at the last minute, he put them together to keep tabs on her.
I’m not sure if Ava knew ahead of time, but she seemed excited when we ran into the two of them this afternoon.
My need to control everything has made this more difficult.
Since Ava is the one sharing the room, I refrained from asking him to add cameras so I could stalk her there, too.
A swift kick in the nuts would have been my reward for that request. The thought of being able to watch her in various states of undress has me getting hard once again.
Zander got me a copy of her schedule and I can’t wait to see the pink hit her cheeks when she sees I'll be in her survival class. I’m going to make her life a living hell.
It’s going to be torture seeing her in that short skirt every day.
Fucking stupid uniform. The idea came around years ago when other students were being targeted for their lack of designer things.
To nip it in the bud before it became a true issue, the administration provided uniforms to quash any further discrimination.
Was it the best way to go about it? Probably not, but they don’t seem to want to change the rules now.
“Come on, let’s grab a drink and get ready for the party. Should be a doozy this year.” He slaps my upper back and pulls me out of the room with him. Wesley is in the kitchen mixing up jungle juice when we walk in.
“Magical elixir?” Zander asks with this eyebrow raised in question.
Wesley grins from ear to ear as he dumps an entire bottle of rum into the large container. “My favorite kind. Makes the girls real easy to handle.”
I smirk and close my eyes, shaking my head.
Wesley is a man-whore. He gladly fucks anything in a skirt.
Lucky for him, all the ladies at Pointebreak wear one.
I’ve never seen him strike out, but he has the good sense to be picky about who he sticks his dick in.
Most women drop their panties the moment he looks in their direction.
Those big blue eyes are irresistible to the ladies.
He’s also smart not to get them too intoxicated.
Most fathers won’t take too kindly to their daughters getting fucked over.
Even if a lot of them are as casual about sex as Wesley.
But his good looks aren’t what make him valuable.
No, his effortless charm and natural charisma make him the perfect choice to subtly gather information.
That, and he makes a great bookie. He’s a whiz with numbers and has a knack for calculating odds with remarkable precision.
It definitely comes in handy with our side business.