Slowly, he leans down. His mask only covers the bottom half of his face. It isn’t smooth and shiny like the others; it’s just a black bandana with a skull design.
Dark blue eyes meet mine. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing his misshapen ears. Cauliflower ears, I just learned they’re called.
“You,” I gasp.
“Me.” His voice is as deep as I remember. The way he’s looking at me is strangely intimate. Tingles spread through my body.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. I’m still freaking out, but I lean closer to him.
He smells like burgers and French fries. Because this morning he ate at the diner.
Sitting across a table from me.
Now he’s here. To threaten me? I know Papa and I are in danger, but my focus is entirely on the man before me and the strange pull between us. This moment feels familiar. Inevitable.
Slowly, I reach out. My fingers float toward his face, slow enough that he could stop me. He could grab my wrist and overpower me easily.
But he doesn’t.
He lets me reach out. His stormy eyes hold mine as I pull the bandana down and expose his face.
His familiar face.
It is him. Mr. Muscles. The man from the diner. The man who helped me in the garden last week.
The one who’s been stalking me.
“I’m here to sign this.” He holds up a sheaf of papers I didn’t notice in his hands. “A marriage contract between me and you.”
What?
I stare at the papers. The printed words blur together. I’m too shocked to focus enough to read what he’s showing me.
But I can read the satisfaction radiating off of him as he continues, “The deal is done. You’re going to be my wife.”
1
Two weeks earlier…
* * *
Bella
* * *
In the year of our Lord 2025, I decided to embrace my destiny and become a supervillain.
Step one: enroll in Unitas University. These beautiful, hallowed halls spawn the worst of the worst. And I look forward to becoming one of the best.
The best of the worst. Ha.
Unitas University is the most exclusive college you’ve never heard of. Most of the world doesn’t know what goes on behind these walls. The alumnae keep its secrets well-hidden.
The college doesn’t do any recruiting. It doesn’t need to. In some circles in New Rome and Metropolis, it’s the only college worth attending. All the big mafia families send their children here and have for over five generations.
Most of the students are legacies, but a few of us who aren’t slip through the cracks.
I’m one of them. A crack-slipper-inner. Or whatever. Pretty supervillain of me to infiltrate a criminal spawning zone, right?
