Chapter 10
ten
Monday afternoon, I skip business ethics so I can prepare for the meeting with the president. And yes, I understand skipping ethics class is ironic. But I need to press my other suit and spend some time to look presentable.
Hair styled in place. Cologne sprayed on heavy. Shoes polished black as pitch. Cufflinks I found at the end of sophomore year in Theta Manor? Pinned to my shirt. No tie, so I can say it’s casual, but serious.
When I slip one arm into my suit coat, I freeze. There’s a dark stain on the elbow. Probably some oil from my bike.
Shit! I can’t afford to dry clean this thing. And not in ten minutes. Hurrying to my bathroom, I use a toothbrush and water. It stays like it lives there now.
I’ll have to wear it anyway and hope the president doesn’t look at my back.
Before I leave, I snap on my gold watch. Valen insisted on giving me his old Rolex for my birthday just before the semester started. I’d eyed it for way too long, but never said a word. The day I got back to my room, there it was. Poorly wrapped. No note. But lying on my bed.
I went down the hall to thank him, but he just held up his hand and waved me off.
Now, I wear it everywhere. Wouldn’t take it off to sleep, except it’s so heavy, it’s a workout just to roll over onto my opposite side.
Despite the freezing temperatures, I make the trek toward the president’s house without a coat. Don’t want to cover up my pristine outfit. And I want to show her the respect she deserves.
At the door, I’m greeted by a couple of the new Amethyst Order, enforcers of the university rules. They used to operate under the direction of the Board of Trustees. But I heard Leigh Damon bypassed them when she took office after the last president suddenly died.
I’m escorted into a stuffy waiting room in front of the president’s office. Inside are all the fraternity officers, minus Aiden Cardell, president of Theta Rho Zeta. And Nicky, who couldn’t get out of his class. I’m the only Delta. And I feel exposed.
Ayan Dutta sneers at me as I enter and take a seat across from him and his Beta Kappa Eta guys.
He leans toward his vice president and whispers not so softly, “Couldn’t even afford to clean his jacket.”
The Betas around him snort laughs as the Thetas gape at me in horror. Probably can’t fathom anyone not having a tailor and laundress on call.
I should have forced a few members to follow me for backup.
One of the black-suited men tosses open the double doors leading to the president’s inner sanctum. Decorated exactly how the previous president had it, except most things are still in cardboard boxes.
The woman who stands behind the oversized walnut desk is tall. Slim. She wears a brunette bob and a purple skirt suit. Probably in her fifties? Maybe younger, but she has those fillers in her lips, cheeks, everywhere. It makes her appear older.
“Enter, gentlemen. It’s lovely to meet you all.”
She sticks out her hand and personally introduces herself to each of us, then points Ayan and me toward the two wingback chairs in front of her. The rest of the Delta and Theta officers mill about the room behind us.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice. Things are in transition with new leadership in many positions in the administration. I wanted you all to be aware of the changes taking place.”
Ayan looks as attentive as I do, leaning forward like he’s about to get an A in active listening.
My pulse picks up its pace as I think about competing with this fuck on Thursday. Before, I didn’t care. But looking at his smug face, I know. We have to win. Or at least make sure he loses.
“The Board of Trustees previously was in charge of choosing your appointed mates. The women, or occasionally, the men, who will fulfill your needs in every way. For life. However, given some recent…disobedience—”
We all bristle at the word, knowing one of the main tenets of the Seven is that obedience is a prized virtue.
“We have decided to select a group to make appropriate matches. The Pairing Oversight Tribunal.” Her sharp eyes narrow on each of our faces with a warning. I’d heard the rumor already, but hearing the title now seems to ring with a foreboding tone.
“Anyone who doesn’t accept their appointments is at risk of expulsion from Northview University…” she trails off, as if not letting us know that could also mean we’d still be punished after leaving.
Once initiated into Greek life at Northview, the only way you leave is in a body bag.
We all know it.
But no one says it.
She continues to discuss changes across the university system, but I can’t pay attention.
The words she uses are massive. And don’t seem to have much meaning when I get stuck on one.
As soon as she explains a new committee, the president uses an abbreviation, so I get lost in the letters. It’s way over my head.
Of course, I nod along with Ayan like I know exactly what’s happening.
When she stands, we mimic the motion, and she thanks us for coming.
“Oh, Mr. Griffin? Please stay behind. I need to discuss something important with you.”
Ayan’s dark brown eyes scan my frame with suspicion. Like I planned for her to say that. His upper lip curls, and I give him a smirk.
I sit with a straight back to show her how eager I am to do what’s required of me.
A man in a gray suit, not black, enters and perches behind President Damon’s chair. He slides a manila envelope in front of her, and she opens it, reads the paper, then signs it and smiles at me. My stomach churns with anxiety.
“Mr. Apollo Griffin, I’ve heard excellent things about you across campus. I’m told you’re the one willing to go above and beyond to get a job done.”
I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Yes, ma’am. I work hard to achieve my goals.”
“Wonderful.” She smiles broadly in a way that seems genuine to her. But there’s a mask covering something else.
“As such, the POT would like to reward you with a special assignment. I’ve heard the early feedback from some students in Greek life. They seem a little…uncertain about the new way we’re handling things. I think you can convince them otherwise.”
The blood pulses loud in my ears as I focus on what task she seems to have in store for me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it. I’ll be the fucking best at it to prove my worth. I lick my lower lip and nod.
“We’re looking for an esteemed couple. A model marriage for the entire campus.
You’d go to university events. And demonstrate to everyone at Northview how perfect your match is.
We’ll host a more traditional wedding instead of the ritual.
For you two and for the press. Northview will see what great benefits attending this university and the Seven provide for our students.
” She slides the letter toward me, and my fingers go numb.
Not for fear of what she’s saying, but whatever’s on the paper.
“This sounds like a good plan—” I start, but she interrupts.
“It was common for seniors to perform their vow ceremony in the Cathedral of the Seven Moons just after or around graduation. However, with you and your chosen appointed? We would like to move that up.”
“Move up…”
“We want you to get married now. As soon as possible. And also.” She stops. Abruptly. Face stoic and unreadable.
I clear my throat, but my voice still cracks. “Also?”
“We’ve delved into your records and discovered you’re an excellent initial candidate for the Genetic Continuity Program.”
Damn. That was in the abbreviations she listed. What did it mean? She must see the confusion on my face, so she quickly broadens her grin and continues.
“We want you and your new wife to begin procreating for the Seven immediately.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I come from a large family. Always planned to have one myself. And to start early. Just like Mom and Dad.
“Sure. That sounds—”
She doesn’t wait for my answer. Instead, she shoves the document at me and sits back with a pleased expression.
“You want me to…” Fuck. Do I need to read this for her?
“Take it. That is your appointed. Congratulations. We’ve carefully selected your mate for life.”
She stands and offers her hand. I shake it emphatically.
“I won’t let you nor the Seven down, ma’am.”
With a proud lift of her chin, she says, “I know you won’t.”
I smile and turn to leave.
“Don’t forget your assignment!” She chuckles as my cheeks flush with chagrin.
“Oh,” I laugh at myself. “Right.”
She considers my face carefully. My eyes skim over the page, and I nod the way I’ve learned to do. “Ah, yes.”
“I hope you’re pleased with her.”
“I’m sure I will be. Thank you.”
Grimacing with embarrassment, I fold the letter and slide it into my pocket. It feels like a lead weight.
When I reach the parlor, voices echo up the marble staircase leading to the foyer.
“No, we’re tagging her. She’s the main target.”
“You’re giving us all permission to tag her?”
“Yes,” Ayan says. “Every single one of you. Make her night fucking miserable. Got it?”
Someone claps their hands as I reach the top step. A group of Betas heads out the door, but I catch one of them saying, “Scout Turner is going to wish she never cheated on you.”
“Not after Thriller Thursday.”
“Not if she makes it through Thriller Thursday,” Ayan says before slamming the door behind him.
My neck tightens.
They have it out for Scout.
Which means this Thursday?
I have to find her first.