“I can handle this.”
“Then explain why he’s tracking her,” Cole says. “Because if you go after him now, you give him exactly what he wants. You confirm every version of you he’s selling.”
I look at them—my team, my brothers. The wall holding me upright.
“Fine,” I say, shoving the phone into my pocket. “But Saturday is too far away. Pressure starts before then.”
“The schedule’s locked,” Dante says.
“I know the fucking schedule,” I snap. “I’m talking momentum. We don’t wait for the puck to drop.”
We start now.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 16
Gio
The dining hall is a fucking zoo.
Friday night means pre-game carb loading, which means every athlete on campus is shoveling pasta like it’s a survival requirement. Noise spikes everywhere—trays clattering, voices colliding, metal chairs shrieking across linoleum.
Perfect timing.
If I want to send a message, I do it where everyone can see it.
I walk in with Zoë. A skirt that should be illegal and a sweater soft enough to sleep on cling to her frame. She looks expensive. Composed. Dangerous in a way that draws attention without asking for it. Like she belongs on my arm.
The shift hits the instant we clear the doors. Conversations dip. Heads turn. The whisper network lights up.
I guide her toward the back corner where the long tables usually sit empty. Tonight, every seat is filled.
The inner circle’s already there. Adrian. Declan. Dante. Cole. And the women—Clara, Talia, Genny, Maya.
A show of force in public. A unified front.
We reach the table. I pull out a chair for Zoë, but she’s already sitting, sliding in with fluid ease that sends a sharp spark straight through me. She doesn’t need doors opened. She lets me do it anyway, fully aware it scratches something territorial.
“Nice of you to join us,” Dante says, leaning back with a bottled water, eyes scanning the room.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply, taking the seat beside Zoë.
Adrian studies her, expression unreadable. “You sure about this?”
Zoë meets his gaze without blinking. “About the food? No. It looks like cafeteria slop. About the company? I’m still evaluating.”
Adrian’s mouth twitches—the closest he gets to amused. “Fair.”
Clara sets her tray down and looks directly at Zoë. “You understand the optics.”
“I design optics,” Zoë says, lifting her fork. “I know what they’re saying. I know what they’re thinking. I don’t care.”
“They think you’re the distraction,” Maya says from across the table, nudging greens around her plate like she’s solving an equation. “They think Gio’s using you to soften his image.”
“Are you?” Genny asks, calm and curious. No judgment. Just data.
“I’m leveraging an asset,” Zoë says evenly. “No one’s being used.”
