Eva
My heart flutters in my chest as I stare up at the dark, intimidating building. Its cold stone and harsh lines only foreshadow what’s waiting for me inside. The columns that flank the entryway all along the many meters of facade only add to its imposing effect.
I swallow hard, realizing I’m about to enroll in a school full of the spawn of murderous criminals who are probably exactly like my parents. “Please don’t leave me here, mother,” I say, pleading at her with my eyes.
Her expression hardens as she glares at me with no emotion whatsoever. “The Syndicate Academy is the perfect place for you to learn discipline, Eva.” She tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “You need to learn what kind of behavior we expect of you as the sole heir to the Carmichael Clan.” I hate when my mother calls me the sole heir, as all it does is remind me of my lossour loss, and yet the way she says it, you’d think her child wasn’t dead and buried.
Karl, my older brother, died two years ago. Unlike me, he took to the life of crime like a duck to water. Unfortunately, that was his undoing. At eighteen years old, he orchestrated a drug heist, trying to impress our poor excuse of a father, and the unruly bikers in Atlanta murdered him.
Despite our differences, I loved him more than anyone else. His death ripped a hole inside of me and left me as the sole heir to the Carmichael Clan, which means my parents will force me into an arranged marriage to some evil criminal mastermind who can carry on the family business since women can’t possibly rule alone.
The criminal underworld still won’t accept women as leaders in the twenty-first century. They plan to sell me off to someone who will benefit their business, but I have no intention of complying.
My mother clicks her tongue. “Come on. Principal Byrne is waiting for us.”
Her high-heels clack against the stone of the steps as she rises toward the entrance of the gothic building. “Hurry now, Eva,” she says, glancing over her shoulder.
I draw in a deep, steadying gulp of oxygen before stepping onto the first step. The towering arched entrance is ominous as I walk through it. Deep down, I’d hoped the cold, harsh exterior was only a front, but the walls of stone line the plain, bare corridors inside too. My mother’s heels echo as follows the signs toward the principal’s office.
“Keep up, Eva,” she calls.
I hasten my steps after my mom, pulling my cardigan more tightly around me. It’s cold inside my new high school.
Who the fuck starts a new high school seven months from the end of their senior year?
It’s insane. Although not as insane that my parents believe I’ve been sleeping with the janitor. My father even accused me of attempting to fall pregnant to ruin the family. It offends me they think I’d be stupid enough to get pregnant, even if I were sleeping with him. I have no intention of ruining my life before it’s even started. Even so, it didn’t stop my mother from dragging me straight to the doctor to have a birth control implant inserted in my arm. My plans don’t involve a baby. They involve going to college and getting a veterinary degree.
My mother and father have controlled my life in every way since I can remember, forcing me to attend an all-girls school from primary age, so I don’t get why they’d send me to a Co-Ed school now. They wanted to ensure I had no interaction with boys, but now they think I’ve stooped so low as to fall into the arms of my high school janitor.
The guy was also double my age. He’s now been fired for something he didn’t do, and my parents have flown me thousands of miles from my home. I don’t know what’s more offensive, they think I would prioritize a man over my studies, or they think my standards are that low.
Mother stops outside a door with Principal Oakley Byrne’s name carved into a brass plaque. She knocks confidently.
“Come in,” a deep voice replies. A voice that sends shivers down my spine.
There is something unnerving about this school. I felt a sense of unease the moment I stepped over the threshold, but I can’t put my finger on why. Perhaps it’s the gothic style columns and dark stone that remind me of something out of a horror movie. It makes me feel like I’m entering somewhere dangerous.
My mother twists the door handle and swings open the door, stepping inside.
My heart hammers in my ears as I stare into the gloomy depths of the office in front of me. A sense of impending doom coils through me as I feel like I’m about to be thrown to the wolves.
“Come along, Eva,” my mother calls.