Chapter three: Just a sacred little piece of shit

Nicholas’s POV

Present time

“Owww!” I groaned, pain radiating through my body.

It stung more than usual. I couldn’t tell what was more—the blow itself or the sensation I felt when he leaned in, speaking so close to my ear.

“You know you’re such a baby, right?” he sneered. “When it comes to saving your precious little girlfriend, you act all heroic. But when I deal with you, you turn helpless—weak. You’re just a scared little piece of shit.” His words dripped with hate, and the worst part? He was right.

Whenever Cilia was in trouble, something inside me flipped. I became this unstoppable version of myself. But the moment Andrew touched me, all of that shattered. I was reduced to nothing. Helpless. Powerless.

“Babe, let’s free these pathetic people and move on to the next,” Tina said, draping her hand over him like a trophy.

I couldn’t see much from the floor, but I caught the expression on Cilia’s face as Tina spoke. She wrinkled her nose like she'd smelled something rotten. Even in the pain, I almost laughed. That face? Priceless.

Andrew released my hair by shoving my head roughly to the ground. A sharp, ringing sound filled my ears. Every inch of me screamed in pain.

They walked off—Andrew, Tina, and the rest of their squad—like kings and queens of ruin.

Andrew West. The most feared, admired, and disgustingly wealthy golden boy in school. No one dared to challenge him—except me, of course.

He is the ruthless leader of The Bloodline, a notorious group of elite bullies. They were previously seven in number but reduced to five.

There’s Tina—Andrew’s venomous girlfriend.

Dave—his ever-loyal best friend.

Frederick— the quiet brute.

Ava—don’t let the smile fool you. She’s cold.

They’re all always together and always bullying like they have nothing better to do with their lives.

The Bloodline had existed for seven generations in this school. With each generation came a new heir, a new group of successors destined to carry on the legacy.

Cilia and I? We were heirs too—by blood. But when our older siblings left, we were automatically removed from the heir.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one day, Nick,” Cilia said firmly, her voice tight with concern.

She helped me back into my wheelchair, gently straightening out my clothes and brushing the dust off my pants.

“I know,” I groaned, the pain still radiating through my body.

“Your face, Nick…” She touched the side of my cheek—right where the ache pulsed the worst. “You need to stop doing this.”

“I’m fine, Cilia.”

“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “You don’t always have to take my beatings for me. I can take care of myself.”

“Can you, Cilia?” I shot back, louder than I meant to. “Because it sure doesn’t look that way every time they mess with you.”

She fell silent, her face dropping into something soft and sad. Guilt crept up my throat almost immediately. I was already in enough pain—I didn’t need to unload it on her.

I sighed. “Cilia, it’s fine, okay? Let’s just… go to class.”

The truth is, Cilia’s just scared for me. And she has every right to be.

She’s always been there—ever since that day. And I know she appreciates that I’m always there for her, too.

She helped me to my locker so I could grab my books, and then we made our way to class together.

We arrived a little earlier than usual. Inside, already seated, were the other heirs.

Steve—Andrew’s cousin.

Anna—Dave’s sharp-tongued sister.

Belly—Frederick’s younger sister, always with her nose in someone else’s drama.

Mic—Ava’s quiet younger brother.

And Henry.

All five of them sat together.

The heirs of The Bloodline.

“Hey, Wheely,” Mic called out as I entered the room.

I smiled faintly and made my way to my usual spot.

“What happened to your face, Nick?” Anna asked, her voice laced with genuine pity. I didn’t think the damage was that noticeable—the pain was definitely there, but I figured I looked okay. Still, I pulled out my pocket mirror to check.

Damn. It looked bad.

“The Bloodline happened,” Cilia said flatly before I could even answer.

“This is getting to be too much,” Belly muttered, frowning.

Henry silently handed me a cold juice box. “Sorry, dude,” he said with a sympathetic look.

“Thanks. It’s fine, guys. It'll heal soon,” I replied, pressing the box gently against the swelling on my cheek.

Ouch.

It hurt more than I let on. I face this kind of thing every day, and I still don’t know why I’m not used to the pain.

Everyone looked genuinely concerned—everyone except Steve.

I caught Cilia glancing at him, clearly hoping he’d say something. But he didn’t budge. Just sat there, looking silently guilty. I didn’t blame him.

Watching his cousin—Andrew—beat us down probably wasn’t easy. It couldn’t be. But still, silence can feel like betrayal when it happens too often.

These heirs… they were different. They weren’t like the Bloodline.

They didn’t enjoy the bullying. If anything, they hated it. But what could they do?

Nothing.

They were tied to a legacy they didn’t ask for, just like Cilia and me.

The bell rang, snapping the moment in half as classes began.

It dragged on forever. My face throbbed the entire time, but I got through it.

Eventually, school ended.