Broken Princess (Van der Borne University Book 2)

by Dakota Lee

  I take in the paintings on the wall. Stepping closer, my heart jumps into my throat. Is that an original Matisse? I’ve seen pictures in books, but she’s got Gustave Moreau’s Studio hanging on her wall.

  I’m so enthralled with the painting, I don’t notice that someone else has come into the room. “Matisse was quite talented in his youth, was he not?”

  She says it like she knows him personally. I turn to meet the keen gaze of the woman wearing slacks and a smoking jacket. I put her at about seventy years old, but the way her eyes twinkle and with her physique she could pass for mid-fifties. And yet, her face holds the wisdom of someone who could have been alive when Matisse was in his youth. Unless she’s a two hundred-year-old vampire, there’s no way that could be true. The old lady settles into her seat, flicking her fingers, beckoning me forward. I hesitate before approaching the middle of the room, stopping in front of her.

  “Turn.” She barks out the order in the husky rasp of someone who’s smoked too many cigarettes. “Well, are you hard-of-hearing child?” She asks when I stand rooted in place.

  “I hear just fine. But I’m not about to spin like a ballerina on top of a jewelry box for an absolute stranger.”

  Her index finger worries her chin as she takes in my appearance. “Now if that’s the type of etiquette they’re teaching for the tuition you pay at school, you should probably ask for a refund.”

  “I’m attending on a scholarship.”

  “Your first semester was only a partial scholarship. You still had to pay room and board. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mm. And after where you ranked in class, do you honestly think you earned more money?”

  This again? Maybe the director of the finance department got it wrong? He said the envelope contained the information for my new benefactor. This woman sounds just like him. Pointing out how I didn’t deserve the money. Not because my grades weren’t strong, but because I violated the school’s ethical and moral code of conduct. Unintentionally, and without my permission, of course. But that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone but me.

  I answer her question. “No, and despite what Mr. Fillegree said, I know the extra money wasn’t out of the goodness of anyone’s heart.”

  “Why do you think they gave it to you?”

  I tilt my head to the side, sizing her up the same way she’s doing me. “It’s hush money.”

  “You’re right. Some of the board members wanted to kick you out of school and revoke your scholarship. I paid to hush them up.” She says matter-of-factly.

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because I know what it’s like to have the bastard boy’s club try to ruin you.” She points to the chair behind me. “Now, sit.”

  I sink slowly into the oversized chair. Her money earns her a conversation, and as conversation starters go, hers is an attention grabber. “It’s a coed club now.”

  “I know, which is why I thought it a perfect time to intercede on your behalf.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know more about you, then you know about yourself.”

  She’s being cryptic, and I’m not in the mood to be played with. I don’t care how much she’s donated to the school. “Not to sound like a total bitch or whatever, but I’m done being manipulated by people like you. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise I’m out of here.”

  “Young people are in such a hurry.” She scolds. “Yes, child, I have something to say; but I’ll do it in my own damn time. And when I’m done with you, you’ll have your recompense, and no one will ever be able to treat you the way they did, again.”

  Her wording makes me nervous. “How much do you think you know about what happened?”

  “Unlike the school faculty and the Billionaires Boys Club, I do my homework. I know exactly what happened, and I can help you overcome it, if you want.”

  It’s worth hearing her out. Isn’t it? She’s funneling money my way, and the school insisted I honor her wishes to come in person. She must hold a lot of power with the administration.

  Her words sit with me. She’s right. They deserve to pay for what they’ve done, and when I find a way to make that happen, they’ll be the ones with their reputations in ruin. But I’m not about to blindly agree and find myself deeper entwined into VDU’s twisted games. “I’m willing to hear you out.”

  “Oh, dear child. You think the answers will come in the form of a simple monologue or Q&A session? These people have been playing the game since they were weened from their nanny’s tits. Before you can topple the king, you have to know who all the pieces on the board are, and what they do.”

  “Mrs. Dane, it sounds like you’re talking about Chess, and I’m talking about real life.”

  “And we’ve already started your first lesson. In this world, those in charge always move people, events, and situations around. Because for them, life is one big game of chess.”

  I let her words sink in. “They made me a pawn without my knowledge.”

  The butler shows up with a chessboard and sets the pieces on a portable table between us. I frown as she sets up the game.

  “Jordanna, have you never played the game before?”

  “My dad was trying to teach me before he passed.” He had been hounding me for years to play, and I was always too busy sketching or painting or hanging with my friends. Then he finally made it mandatory daddy, daughter time. Two months later, he was gone. I haven’t been able to look at a chessboard since.

  She rotates the board slowly in a circle so I can see both sides of it. “In this game, strategy is everything. Something you should consider before you even sit down to the board. And the most important thing to remember, is, even a pawn can become a queen.”

  We spend an hour going over the pieces on the board and the ways they can move in a game. Then Mrs. Dane gives me an assignment. I’m supposed to buy a notebook, and observe the people on campus. That’s it. People watch, in the same way I do when I’m drawing. But instead of sketching, I have to write down their descriptions. Who they spend time with, how they react in group settings.

  When I ask her the point of this exercise, she tells me Logan and his friends rule the school, but every clique or group of friends has the same type of power dynamic. She says less popular or less powerful people have no reason to mask all their thoughts and actions. By observing less guarded people, I can learn to identify weaknesses in power structures. Or I might find they have secrets to uncover. She’s confident I should be able to find at least one detail I can use to my advantage.

  * * *

  “Do you think taking the long way around campus is going to help?”

  I’d hoped to avoid this confrontation for as long as possible. Bella’s on the wrong side of the quad, which means she went out of her way to be here. And since she walked right up to me, I’m the person she was waiting for.

  “What do you want, Bella?”

  “Awe. Is the wittle baby all out of bitchy comebacks? I guess Logan fucked all the sass away like he said he would. It probably didn’t take much effort, either. Did it? Since you were so adamant about saving yourself, I’m guessing it was two strokes to finish you off.” Cocking her head the side she says, “I wonder what the moms of your little purity fan club would say if they could see you now. Think I should drop them a line and give them an update?”

  She’s just hateful enough to do it. “Isn’t it enough that you won, Bella? Can’t we just let it go and move on with our lives?”

  “Let it go? Move on? That’s where you’re confused. I don’t want you to have a life to move on to. I wanted you gone, but you’re still here. So no. Nothing’s over charity. But, this time when I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for a transfer out of the country.”

  Her threat is filled with such unwarranted vehemence that I take time to consider her words. She’s been this way since the first day of school, but this is more than a game. She really wants to destroy me as if
I did something to her. “This can’t be about the seat issue at the beginning of the year, so please, tell me. What did I ever do to you, to make you dislike me so much?”

  “What you did, is, you were born. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I have at least another seventy years before that’s undone. I suggest you get over it.”

  “Don’t get too comfortable, charity, your days here are numbered.” She tosses her hair and turns, walking back the way she came.

  Mrs. Dane said to think of Vandi U as one big chess game. I need to figure out who the players are and who are the pieces on the board. She also says operating from a place of emotion puts me at a deficit. Bella is definitely a player in the game, she’s also a piece on the board. Everyone in their group has a purpose. Pawn, knight, bishop, queen. Then there’s the beautiful prince at the top. Logan. The King. He’s well insulated by his friends, and I’ll have to move them all out of the way to defeat him.

  Everyone has a weakness. I just have to focus less on my immediate surroundings and problems to find them. That also means I’ll have to push myself out of my comfort zone and frequent the same places the other students do. This time, I’ll be floating around the fringes of their group, trying to pick up on anything that I can use.

  * * *

  Art class feels different. The smell, the lighting. It’s all different. Lately, everything I draw has black, gray and muted tones, and I know it has a lot to do with the fact that Logan and his friends took something I loved and made it dark and twisted.

  Gredin, the skater kid from last semester is in this class. He smiles at me as he passes causing me to wonder if there’s a diabolical motive behind his attention. Great, I’m paranoid too. Logan’s stunt has me distrusting everything. Gredin’s still looking at me, so I avert my gaze as if scanning the room. I hope he turns back around soon. I can’t deal with the scrutiny right now.

  My hands shake as I lower my bag to the floor, taking a seat at the back of the class. The students enter, filling in the surrounding seats. The room around me shrinks, spots appear before my eyes, and I become hyperaware of the sound of my pulse and the feeling of my heart ricocheting in my chest. I force a shaky breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, and close my eyes, willing myself to calm down. I haven’t had a panic attack in a while. This class is not gonna be the thing that brings them back.

  Slowly, my heart rate returns to normal and I no longer feel like I’m drowning in cement. When I’m back in control, I look towards the front of the class, pick up my pencil with shaky hands, and try to draw.

  Logan

  I step into the frame of the door, blocking Jordanna’s exit. For two weeks, I’ve been avoiding her, and she’s been avoiding me. I’m supposed to be showing everyone I’m unbothered by her presence. This ambush is like ripping the bandaid off.

  “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to come back here.” I flash a smile. “But I don’t know why I’m surprised. All the ladies come back for more, no matter how badly I treat them. Guess you’re just like them, after all.”

  “Oh, there he is. I was wondering when you were gonna finally grow some balls and say something to me,” she snarls. “But guess what, I’m not afraid of you, or your friends, Logan. That little stunt you pulled. The game you played? You lost. I’m still here, so deal with it.”

  The students who were lingering around, leave. They’re smart enough not to stay around and risk getting caught in the crossfire. I grip her arms, giving her a shake to shut her up, because I can’t deal with hearing her voice.

  “Your being back here doesn’t mean shit. And don’t think you’re safe because of whatever deal you cut with Dean Allen. We can still find ways to make your life hell.”

  Time to lay down the rules to make this easier on everyone. “Stay away from our parties, stay away from my friends. Just stay in your room and go to classes, and maybe you’ll survive this semester.”

  “Oh, I’ll be doing more than just surviving it. I plan to enjoy the hell out of it.”

  She’s quick, and I’m distracted by what she’s just said. Her knee comes up and connects with my nuts. Releasing my hold on her arm, I double over in pain. “I’m gonna make you pay for that.” I threaten through a wheezed breath.

  “Not today you won’t, asshole.”

  I turn, resting my back against the wall, my hands protectively placed in front of my crotch. Shit, I should’ve seen that coming. How else did I expect her to respond? If I were her, I’d want to hurt the thing that led to my destruction too.

  I’m sitting on my bed with a bag of ice on my dick when there’s a knock on my door. I had the locks changed two days ago, to stop Bella from letting herself in. “What?”

  “Logan, it’s me.” Tabitha calls through the door.

  I press the code on my phone unlocking it, glad I upgraded to that feature. My nuts are too swollen to make it to the door.

  “Wow. Uh, orgy gone wrong? Dude, I told you it was a bad idea to try your daddy’s Viagra.”

  “Funny, Tabby.”

  “Seriously. What happened?”

  “I had a talk with Jordanna.”

  “A talk? Like how? Was she talking to your cock, and accidentally bit down too hard?”

  “No, I was talking to her face-to-face, but she answered with her knee.”

  “Ouch.” She sits on the bed, tucking her leg in front of her. “I guess whatever you said wasn’t sweet and romantically apologetic.”

  I don’t answer.

  “You threatened her, didn’t you?” She shakes her head, the disappointment clear on her face.

  “You know why.”

  “What I know, is that it’s bullshit, and you’re taking the one opportunity you had to do something different and you’re blowing it.”

  “We have rules, Tabitha.”

  “The rules, Logan? The rules don’t say we can’t have someone on our side. You’re the king, you rule this school. Pick a fucking queen.”

  “We already have one of those.”

  “I wouldn’t be mad if you snuck in a rule that said off with her head.”

  “This conversation is pointless, Tabby. I don’t need anyone by my side, and you can stop with whatever idea you have about me looking for a way to get back with Jordanna.”

  She rolls her eyes and snorts. “You? Everything’s not always about you. I wanna get back with Jordanna. She’s one of the few people you banged I didn’t hate talking to.”

  I lean my head back against my headboard. “Yeah, me too.”

  I’m in my advisor’s office trying to switch my schedule because the one I have is totally fucking unacceptable. There’s no way in hell I can deal with Jordanna in two classes. I’m flip-flopping between feeling sorry for her ass and pissed off that I have to see her. Needing to change my schedule is just another consequence of the bet.

  “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do, Logan.”

  I wasn’t paying attention, and only caught the end of what he was saying, but I heard enough to know he’s trying to tell me my schedule is final. “I don’t accept that answer. I have until the end of the third week to drop or change a class, so what do I need to do to make the switch?”

  “If you want to get out of your life study class, then you need to postpone taking it until the fall.”

  “The other section can’t be full, or maybe someone wants to swap out with me.” I say, offering him a solution to what he’s trying to make a problem.

  He peers at me over the rim of his glasses. “Professor Hudson was supposed to teach the class, but he’s currently on a leave of absence because he failed to properly supervise the submissions for the art symposium.” He lets that hang in the air like a bad fart, while shuffling papers on his desk. “There is no other class being offered this semester. So, as I said, you can drop the class and take it in the fall.”

  I can’t do that, because that would put me behind next spring. As my advisor, he kno
ws that. Just like he knows there’s no way in hell I can afford to add another class to my plate, or come to campus in the summer. “Fine. I’ll keep the schedule I have.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  * * *

  On the walk to my dorm, I decide I need to come up with a plan to exorcise Jordanna from my mind once and for all. I reverse course, heading back the way I came, taking the trail that leads to the cafe. To make this happen, I’m going to need some props.

  Once inside the coffee shop, I scan its occupants for someone who can assist me. Unknowingly, of course. I need their reaction to be genuine, not played over the top to draw suspicion. Amber’s sitting in a corner wearing a cute pair of UGG boots and skinny jeans. Her hair is in two pigtails. All that’s missing is a cowboy hat, and she’d be the life-size model of cowgirl barbie. When I reach her, I lean forward, bracing my hands on the table. “How’s it going, Amber?”

  “Uh, good.”

  “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”

  She points to the textbook in front of her. “Studying for a quiz.”

  I twist my lips into a smile. “I guess I’ll let it slide then.”

  “Let what slide?”

  “You deciding to sit here in the corner all alone, instead of at my table with me.”

  She looks over to where I usually sit. “Uh…”

  I can see she’s nervous. She’s probably trying to gauge if my attention is putting her on the starting block for another game. I sit beside her, draping my arm across the back of the booth, toying with the hair on the nape of her neck. “Your neck is so long and elegant. The perfect dimensions for modeling.” She tilts her head, exposing more of her neck to me. “And these cute ears. I bet you’ve already got a bunch of headshots don’t you?”