"No." Edward shakes his head. "The hell are you talking about?"
"You," I jerk my chin at him, "you’re off to find God?—"
"Correction," Edward folds his arms across his chest, "I already found God. That’s why I decided to serve him. But first, I’m off to the Himalayas to clear my head."
"Only you would talk about going on some kind of spiritual quest like it were a walk in the park."
"We all have our ways of dealing with the aftermath of the incident differently." Edward draws himself up to his full height. Out of all of us, he is the only guy still growing. He’s my height now and chances are that he’ll outgrow me too.
"The bloody incident." I shake my head. "We’ll never be rid of its effects for as long as well live. Perhaps that’s why we seem to be splitting off so quickly, huh?"
"Who’s splitting?" Arpad cracks his neck. "I’m just taking my yacht for a gander."
"And fighting storms while you’re at it," I add
"Storm chasing happens to be my way of dealing with—" he jerks his chin, "you know?—"
I do. "So, while Damian’s off becoming a rockstar, Edward becomes a priest, Weston’s gonna become a doc?—"
"A heart surgeon," he corrects me.
"A surgeon," I agree. "Saint and I have decided we’re going to make money."
"What’s new about that?" Baron, pops a toothpick betweenhis lips. "You two have been hustling tricks on the stock market since…"
"After the incident," Edward supplies.
"Bloody incident." I set my jaw. "If not for that, we’d be?—"
"Bedding girls, getting into Oxbridge, ready to take on our trust funds, and probably spending it as fast as we could. All except you, of course."
I snort, "Unlike you privileged assholes, I happen to take pride in wanting to be a self-made billionaire."
"Billionaire, huh?" Edward raises an eyebrow. "That’s what turns you on, money?"
"You bet." I laugh. "What else is there in life, except the green stuff? Money is power, Ed."
"Your mind is more powerful." Edward’s lips quirk. "Your health is what empowers you, and your faculties..." he taps the side of his head, "as long as you have them about you, you can do almost anything."
"What the hell!" I thump my chest. "Not even a priest, and you’re already pontificating?"
"It comes naturally to him." Baron smirks. "Bastard’s a born talker. No wonder he’s found his true calling."
Edward glares at him, opens his mouth to speak, then glances away, "So, this money-making scheme... What do you and Saint have in mind for it?"
"7A," I retort.
Baron chortles, "What does that stand for? Seven Assholes?"
"You said it." I smirk. "It stands for whatever you want it to be. Seven Alphas. Seven About-town. Seven Arsewipes." I raise my shoulders, "You name it, it fits."
"And what is this 7A about?" Weston prompts.
"Investing in the stock market." I drum my fingers on my chest. "That's how we're going to become billionaires on our own steam."
"We are?" Damian scowls.
I nod. "Saint and I, we’ve used our combined knowledge, garnered from the time we’ve spent studying the stock market, to come up with an algorithm that can project how the market is going to move. It will give us a head start in planning our own positions."
