Hey all! Welcome back! Thank you so much for your wave of support when I stepped back into this last week. It was such a relief to know you're all still here with me!

Let's dive right in.

Thank you to Mel!

NINE

Edward

"Part of me suspects that I'm a loser, and the other part of me thinks I'm God Almighty."

― John Lennon

A fucking baby.

Part of me wanted to go see him, lay eyes on the weapon my parents now threatened me with, but even if I really wanted to, I knew I wouldn't be allowed. All of us were kept far from our siblings to discourage fratricide.

Like I'd have to get my hands dirty if I wanted someone dead.

I'd been unable to sleep since my parents dropped the news on me, and though I'd gone through a host of distractions, sex, drugs, and alcohol had done nothing to clear my mind. I'd finally settled on a punishing run, something so tedious, I'd be forced to shut off my mind.

It had worked, if only for a moment. The moment I was back on campus, I was fucking tense as hell.

Running into the new girl had been an unexpected surprise, one that had worked even better than my masochistic workout. She was spunky, and what was more, she wasn't afraid of me. I'd never encountered anyone who didn't just know who I was and acted accordingly.

It was equal parts refreshing and annoying.

She wasn't enough to completely clear my head though, and as soon as she moved on, I was pissed again, tension rolling through my shoulders.

What I needed was some sort of insurance policy, something in my corner to back my parents down. I was born to lead this family one day, and nothing would get in the way of that.

Sure, I might slack off in class because there was nothing to challenge me, but that wasn't to say I'd been useless my whole life. I'd done the hard fucking work. I spoke all the diplomatic languages, and I read every fucking book they'd thrown at me. I had a mastery over war strategy and political games, government, and economics even down to the smallest detail, and what was fucking more, I paid attention to what the Sixteen were doing now.

No one else at this fucking school knew or cared what their parents were up to.

I might be a self-centered prick, but I was a smart and well-trained self-centered prick.

And I fucking deserved to rule to world.

My parents hadn't been in line to be number one. They were meant to exist as number twos their entire life, pinning hopes on me to eventually elevate the family to number one.

But then, the rift happened.

No one would talk about it, and it'd happened when I was a baby, so I'd never really known anything different. The Sixteen used to be a whole, but it was fractured into two equal parts; eight families on either side of the rift, at war with one another and using the world as their chess set.

My parents had benefited from the division, even as they'd destroyed several countries in the process.

Thinking about my parents was adding to the tension in my body. I didn't want to dwell on them and all the things they controlled. Trying to shake off my thoughts, I ran upstairs to my room, immediately stopping when I stepped past the door. On my bed, a couple of girls were still passed out. It wasn't Angela or Jessica, who had gotten unbearable recently. I didn't remember these girls' names, because they didn't matter.

They weren't from the Sixteen.

I moved to the bathroom, flicking on the shower until the room was filled with steam. What I wouldn't give to lose myself right now to drugs or sex, but I knew nothing would work.

There was no outrunning Carlisle and Esme Cullen.

Letting out a breath, I slid under the scalding water, gasping as it hit my skin.

The shower was punishing and so brutal that I used it to focus on nothing but the feeling of burning alive.

When I was done, my body was shaking, but for a single moment, I felt a peace come over me.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped into my private bedroom. The girls were still on the bed, though they'd woken up. One had a blanket pulled up to her chest in feigned modesty, like I hadn't been fucking her in the ass just hours ago.

The other was lounging on top of the comforters, trying to project confidence I didn't believe she actually possessed.

Both looked up when I came in, and I saw doubt and uncertainty on their faces.

They weren't cut from the cloth of my world. All they would ever be good for was as holes to fill.

"You have twenty seconds to get out," I told them, not looking in their direction as I moved toward my closet.

"Are you sure?" One asked. "I can suck—"

"Get out." My voice was cold and flat, and behind me, the girls started moving on the bed. I stepped into the closet to dress and was satisfied when I heard the door click shut.

Alone again, just like I was always going to be in life.

…

New Girl was in my first lecture of the day, her chair conveniently placed across the circle from mine. She came in dressed in some baggy monstrosity of a uniform, and right away, I missed the pornographic version from yesterday. At least she'd been something to look at then.

She sat in her chair, tugged an ugly messed-up backpack onto her lap, and pulled out what looked like a ripped-up notebook. She'd come in looking lower class, but even on her first day, she hadn't looked this disheveled.

What the hell happened to her?

Jasper settled in the seat next to mine, distracting me from staring at her. "Dude," he grunted, leaning back. "I heard about the baby."

I tried not to wince at the reminder. Jasper's tone was nothing but sympathetic. He himself had seven younger siblings, most of whom were just as driven as he was to reach the top seat.

But Jasper was clever, and he'd been given the gift of being born first, which meant he had the age advantage. If he could prove himself worthy by the time we graduated, he'd get it, no questions asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said to him, with a small shake of my head.

I saw Jasper eye me but then nod, like he understood.

"I've got your back, man."

I looked up at him in surprise. It was rare for any of us to admit loyalty to another, especially this high up in the rankings. Too much was subject to change, and we all knew ultimately we'd slit each other's throats if it meant making it to the top of the heap.

Jasper had always been different, but I don't think I'd ever appreciated what that meant before.

I swallowed hard then nodded to let him know I'd heard him. He offered me one small half smile before turning his attention back to our professor.

I was trying to wrap my head around his declared friendship so much that I lost track of the class.

"Mr. Cullen?"

I looked up, surprised. No one ever called on me. Never.

The professor was looking at me expectantly, and collectively around the room, people were holding their breaths, eyes wide.

I had no idea what he'd asked, no idea what he was waiting for.

"The aristocratic oligarchy of the nineteenth century," New Girl said, drawing every eye to her. The professor turned to her.

"You believe that is an example of failed government?" he asked, sounding skeptical.

"I believe it an example of corrupt government, which in its nature is a government failing."

Around the room, children of the Sixteen shuffled in their seats. Did she not understand what was going on? Did she seriously not have a clue where she was? Who we all were?

The professor looked around the room, looking anxious.

"Oligarchy is the only true way to run anything," Rose said, her voice venomous. "You're naive to think otherwise."

"A system that relies on the few to orchestrate for the masses is inherently inequitable and unreliable," New Girl argued back. "No one is infallible, not even the so-called elite."

"The elite is trained for this," Rose snapped. "They are given the advantages they need to rule. Why would anyone be foolish to place the power of their government in anyone less?"

"And what sort of training do they get? Are they even in touch with the needs of the rest of the population? Or are they sequestered and secluded from the world, given an artificial sense of self-importance?"

The rest of the room was silent as the girls volleyed shots at each other. Everyone's eyes were wide as saucers, and Rose looked like she was ready to cut New Girl's throat.

"Some people are born more important than others. Those people are meant to lead so that trash like you doesn't drive entire economies into the ground. Do you even know how Bolivian trade works, or how it affects the American economy?" Rose sniffed. "Face it. Some people are better than others, and those people should be left to rule and make decisions for the rest."

New Girl stared her down. Even though she looked like a ratty homeless urchin the wind had blown through our doors, there was something on her face, something deeply intelligent behind her eyes and fierce in the set of her jaw.

New Girl might not be of the Sixteen, but it didn't matter to her. She was here to fight for herself.

It was a quality that I hadn't seen in someone who didn't already have inherent power and status.

The professor cleared his throat.

"Right, well thank you both for your perspectives," he said, shuffling between them to break the eye contact they hadn't let drop. "Class is nearly over, so let's turn our attention to the assigned readings from Aristotle's teachings."

I didn't pull out my book like the rest of my peers. Instead, I kept my eyes on New Girl, watching her as she swallowed hard before reaching into her backpack. Everything she had on her was torn and worn down, but the fire in her eyes was bright and shining and new.

I couldn't look away from her, even when she glanced up and met my gaze, catching me staring at her.

She didn't flush like she'd done before, nor did she back down from the stare.

Instead, she matched me, gazing right back, daring me to do or say anything.

Her gaze made me feel alive in ways I hadn't felt in a very long time, and after a moment, I inhaled, realizing I'd stopped breathing.

I dropped my eyes to my desk, a plan forming in my mind. New Girl had some fire in her, and I wanted to use her fire to burn this place to the ground.

…

It took me nearly three days to find my window to talk to New Girl. I was constantly surrounded by people, and she was rarely seen outside of class. I didn't want anyone overhearing what I had to say to her, so instead, I waited.

My opportunity came early one morning when I was coming in from a run. She was on her way to the library, just like she'd been the last time I'd crossed paths with her.

"New Girl! I shouted, picking up into a trot to meet her down the hall. She looked up, alarmed, her baggy ass clothes swimming on her as she clutched a book to her chest.

When she saw it was me, she rolled her eyes.

"What do you want?" She sounded bored, and it was almost enough to make me smile.

"Are you going to the library?" I asked, glancing down at her nearly falling apart bag.

She shifted her weight, turning her body to hide the bag like she was ashamed of it.

"What's it to you?"

I looked up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were dark and guarded.

"I'll walk you," I said, glancing down the hall. It was empty, but that didn't mean no one was eavesdropping.

Here, there was always someone listening.

"No," she said, stepping around me.

I turned to fall into pace with her.

"Oh, come on," I said, flashing her a smile when she glanced up at me. "I won't bite."

She gave me a sharp look that caused a genuine laugh to come out of me. It was short, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed about anything.

"Leave me alone," she said, her cheeks tinging pink as she dropped her gaze to the floor.

"No," I said lazily, easily keeping up with her quick, short steps.

We were near the library doors when I turned, surprising her again. I used my body to push her into the bathroom right outside the library entrance.

She squeaked in shock then stumbled away from me when we were in the room. I turned and locked the door behind me. It was a single-stall bathroom and one of the few places in the school with no cameras.

"Look, I don't know what the fuck you think is—"

I turned to her, cutting her off. "Shut up, I need your help."

Her mouth popped open in surprise before she snapped it shut.

"Go fuck yourself," she snarled.

"I don't need to. Anyone at this school would happily do the work for me," I pointed out.

She flushed.

"Not everyone," she said, her eyes narrowing.

I smirked at her.

She shifted back on her feet, her fingers squeezing around the book against her chest. "Why do you need my help?"

"Because," I said, shoving a hand in my hair, suddenly unsure I was making the right choice. For all I knew, she could be a commoner kid sent in here by my parents to spy on me. I wouldn't put it past them. "You're not rich."

She rolled her eyes. "You are such a fucking pretentious ass," she hissed.

I shook my head. "Yeah I am, and you don't come from my world."

Her glare was withering and had I been a lesser person, I likely would have shrunk under it.

Instead, I pressed on. "I have found myself in a somewhat precarious situation," I said slowly, my eyebrows furrowing. "I need an insurance policy to back me, in case things go south."

"Do I look like I fucking work for Geico?" she snapped.

The corner of my mouth tugged into a smile. "You are the only person I know who can help me get the information I need without drawing any sort of red flag," I told her.

"And what do I get out of this?" she asked, one eyebrow arching.

"What do you want?"

She flushed, and immediately, I knew she was thinking of sex. I smirked, stepping closer to her.

"I'd be happy to give you a ride, maybe even several," I said, my voice low and hypnotic. "Your obvious dislike of me would make for some excellent fucking."

She took a sharp breath, her nostrils flaring slightly.

"You want to fuck me, exclusively?"

I frowned. "If you are asking if I'd be the only one fucking you, my answer is an unequivocal, yes." I reached out, one hand landing on her waist. She flinched under my touch, surprised. "If you are asking if I'd only be fucking you, my answer is no. I don't do exclusive."

Her dark eyes narrowed as her gaze settled on my mouth. I could feel her intrigue, feel her desire to consume me.

I licked my lips and decided I'd let her have a taste.

I lowered my head, trying to make up for the height difference between us. I stopped, just above her lips, breathing her in.

"Admit it," I whispered to her, my breath fanning over her face. "You want me."

She took in a shaking inhale that separated her lips. I watched as her tongue came out, wetting them, and I shifted, suddenly aroused.

"I want you," she whispered, her sweet breath hitting my tongue. "To go fuck yourself."

She ripped herself away from me, and I blinked, confused and annoyingly turned on.

"I'm not interested in fucking a whore," she spat at me.

I frowned, my arousal turning to anger.

"You have no idea what I am," I snarled.

She shook her head. "There is only one thing I want from you. Agree to this, and I'll help you."

My gaze narrowed on her. "What?" I asked, my tone sarcastic.

"Money," she said, swallowing hard. "I want to get paid—one hundred dollars for every day I help you."

I stared at her. That was fucking it? She seriously had no idea who the hell I was, or what I could offer her. I could offer her the actual fucking world, and all she wanted was money?

"Fine," I ground out, angry at her for being so naive. "We have a deal." I held my hand to her. She hesitated, staring at my palm before letting go of her book. Her hand was small and warm in mine.

"So, what do you need?"