Daphne stood, slinging her Prada bag over her shoulder. “I need to go make sure my roommate made it back to our dorm.”
“You’re going alone,” I said immediately, my voice turning hard as I rubbed my temple. “Neither of these girls will join you,especiallySeraphina. I’ll notify Secret Service.”
Daphne crossed her arms, fiddling with her strap, biting back an argument. Before she could say anything, Brooksstrode toward us, interrupting the conversation.
His jaw was tight, and his teeth were clenched.
“Enzo,” he bit out, almost panicked, which was a rarity, “we’ve got a problem.”
Brooks was the most levelheaded among us, meaning this was more than just a problem. This was something life or death.
And that was my cue.
I followed Brooks out of the Lair. Cassian and Nico were on our heels. We tore through the underground tunnels, headed straight for the Locker Hall.
As soon as the door shut behind us, Brooks hurled his phone across the room. It slammed into a locker and skidded across the floor while he paced like a caged animal.
Emeri looked up from his iPad in the same spot he’d been when we left. His knife was tucked into his shirt, the hilt peeking out while the blade’s tip pressed against his heart. He rolled a toothpick between his teeth and lifted a brow at me.
I shrugged, waiting for Brooks to explain what the fuck was going on.
Brooks stopped pacing and stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You know the senator challenging my father’s reelection bid?”
I scratched the back of my head. “The one who looks like the rat who raised the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”
Brooks’s hands curled into fists, and he nodded. “His son, Hedgeford, just threatened to leak a video of me fucking a campaign intern in the Oval Office unless my father drops out.”
He picked up his phone and shoved it toward me.
I took it, skimming the message.
The blackmail text was laughably amateur.
The idiot had sent it through a traceable number.
I rolled my shoulders, easing out the tension. “Emeri, you feel like riding with us?”
He cracked his knuckles. “Will there be blood?”
“Not immediately,” I replied. “But we get to blow something up.”
He shrugged. “I’m in.”
“Nico.” I turned my attention to him just as he unlocked his locker.
He shook his head. “I’m already in charge of dealing with Jett’s body. Consider me tapped out for the night.”
“Jett is a five-minute errand.” I mimed a shove. “Up the steps and”—I flicked my hand—“out he goes.” I reached around him into his locker and grabbed a spare laptop. “Hack into this Hedgeford kid’s shit. Virus everything. Wipe anything tied to Brooks. If he has a girlfriend, dump her. And if there are any dick pics, send them to everyone working on his father’s campaign and post them online. Bonus points if there’s a video of him jacking off.”
Nico saluted me.
I turned to Brooks. “Let’s go make sure your dad wins.”
Time to have some more fun.
It was sometime after four in the morning when I reached the cloister wall for my post-murder ritual.
The campus was dark and quiet as I stared up at the moon.
