A Free Show

Lina’s POV

Olivia practically dragged me out of bed the next morning. I really wished I could have left everything from yesterday behind, but my brain refused to cooperate.

As we walked down the campus pathway, my head throbbed with a vicious rhythm. It was a mix of last night's blowout argument with Ma and the fact that Olivia wouldn't stop talking.

"This college is seriously insane, bae," Olivia blabbed, nudging my shoulder. "Someone literally lost their hands yesterday, but the welcome party is still happening tonight!"

I gave her a brief glance before focusing on the large double doors ahead. "I’m going to use my internship at the LAPD to find Riven's watch," I declared, stopping in my tracks.

Olivia blinked rapidly, looking completely confused. "What's with the sudden intensity?" she teased.

"It's just fucked," I muttered, letting out a heavy breath.

"You'll have to tell me later. For now, I’ve got classes!" Olivia gave me a quick hug and walked away.

I lingered near the entrance, my gaze drifting toward the parking lot. Ma had said Riven was a student here, but I highly doubted a ruthless gang leader actually sat through lectures. Still, a wave of unease washed over me.

I forced myself to turn around and headed inside. I needed to find the internship supervisor, and I needed to do it now.

★

"President's office. President's office," I whispered under my breath, repeating the directions given to me by a helpful secretary.

Once again, the supervisor had been absent from his own desk, but his assistant informed me he was currently meeting with the administration. I headed straight down the corridor. Once I locked down this internship, I would finally find some peace. I might even find Riven's stolen watch in the campus lost-and-found, or unearth some actual leads about my dad's murder.

My chest tightened painfully at the thought of my father, a bitter taste lingering in my mouth. He had died a gruesome, unsolved death, yet Ma hadn't even waited a respectable amount of time before throwing herself into a glamorous new life with another man.

Fuck you, brain, I scolded myself, realizing I was accidentally letting my thoughts drift toward that horrific family breakfast again.

Riven Rykerthrone was repulsive. More importantly, he wasn't currently standing in front of me. I was just being paranoid.

Reaching the heavy oak doors of the President's office, I gave a firm knock and twisted the doorknob. The door swung open smoothly.

He isn't here—

He was here. In fact, Riven was in the room, and someone was currently positioned right between his knees.

I froze, the air evaporating from my lungs.

Behind the polished mahogany desk, the devil slouched casually in a leather chair. His head was tilted slightly, those striking blue eyes glinting with dark amusement as his lips stretched into a mocking smirk.

Of course. Of fucking course.

My hand trembled against the edge of the door, my gaze dropping until it settled completely on the girl on the floor. Her long hair cascaded down her back, the ends resting against the carpet. The curtain of strands didn't hide the rhythmic, bobbing motion of her head. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as if she savored every single second.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

My stomach twisted so violently with nausea that I stumbled backward, nearly losing my balance entirely. My lips parted, my lungs desperate for oxygen in a room that suddenly reeked of his expensive cologne and the suffocating scent of intimacy.

"You're lucky, Miss Tequila," Riven spoke, his voice sounding as smooth as silk. His slanted gaze crawled up to my face, locking onto my wide, horrified eyes. "You're getting a free show."

He smirked—he actually fucking smirked—and my limbs went entirely numb. My arms dangled uselessly at my sides like a broken toy. I couldn't tell if the numbness was from pure exhaustion or the sheer weight of the hatred burning in my chest.

"Ms. West?" A gruff, older voice echoed from the hallway behind me, making me flinch.

I spun around instantly, thankful for an excuse to break eye contact with the revolting pair inside. A short, full-bearded man walked toward me. It would have been logical for the heavy thuds of his shoes to serve as a warning for them to stop—a stark reminder that they were performing an explicit act in the middle of a campus office.

But the muffled, choking sounds from within the room didn't cease.

The man, who I assumed to be the internship supervisor, came to a halt right beside me. Unsurprisingly, the unholy noises reached his ears, and I watched his thick eyebrows arch in confusion.

"What is going on in—" He paused, leaning forward to peer through the doorway.

I forced myself to look back inside, and this time, the long-haired blonde sat upright, still sprawled casually on the carpeted floor.

"Are you fucking daft, Mr. Collins?" she questioned, her full lips looking plump and moist.

Riven’s hand remained resting on her head, running his fingers through her hair in slow, soothing strokes as if she were a pet. She looked up at him like a loyal dog, and he smiled down at her like a proud owner.

"M-Miss Wolfgang, I am so deeply sorry!"

My heart dropped into my stomach as the supervisor straightened up instantly. He looked completely flustered, his cheeks flushing a dark red as beads of sweat rapidly broke out across his forehead.

Wait. What?

Why was an adult, a faculty member, looking completely terrified after catching two students in the middle of an act like this?

Before I could process it, Mr. Collins turned on his heel and practically sprinted down the hallway.

"Hell no," I muttered mindlessly, taking off after him.

For a man with remarkably short legs, he moved incredibly fast, but I managed to catch up to him after a few sharp turns down a deserted corridor.

"Why didn't you warn me she was in there?!" Mr. Collins snapped, spinning around to face me.

I blinked, a bitter, cynical chuckle bubbling up in my throat. He was yelling at me? Me? Shouldn't the two degenerates in the President's office be the ones getting reeled in?

"Sir, she was actively giving him a blowjob in the President's office," I spoke slowly, making sure my voice was clear so he could fully comprehend the absurdity of the situation.

Mr. Collins produced a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead before facing me.

"Listen to me, kid," he sighed heavily, stepping closer. I stared down at him, my features pinched in disbelief. "Miss Eve can do whatever she wants. And Mr. Riven kills whoever he wants."

He looked around the empty hallway before meeting my eyes again.

"I would rather face hell itself than become an enemy of the leader of the Black Reapers, or Principal Wolfgang's daughter."