Page 58 of Queen’s Gambit

I pointed at Christov as he laughed and walked away.

“I’m warning you right now, Dean Martin, I’m going to kill him,” I said with so much venom that no one would doubt my intentions. “The next time I see his face, I’ll rip him in two.”

Picking a dumbbell up off the floor I threw it as hard as I could across the room and into the wall of mirrors. One at a time, they cracked and crumbled into a million little glass shards, sending guys running to avoid injury.

“That’s enough, Mr. Genovese. You two take Mr. Collier to the infirmary. The rest of you will escort Mr. Genovese to my office,” Martin said.

I would comply today, but I already knew what came next.

By the time Dean Martin arrived, I was ready to tear his office apart. I’d been pacing the room for an hour, and with each minute, my frustration grew.

“Sit down, Mr. Genovese,” he ordered, walking around the large, wooden desk to turn on his electric kettle in the corner.

“I don’t want to sit.”

He stared at me until I sucked in a deep breath and conceded. Fighting Martin right now wouldn’t help me fix any of this. He went back to making his tea and didn’t say another word until he’d sat down and taken a sip.

“I understand your anger, Edmundo, and I sympathize with it. But I can’t have you murdering fellow students.”

Crossing my arms, I looked away.

“You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do. You know that the Curators exist and that they run this school, but do you know their purpose?”

I shook my head. “Other than punishing families who step out of bounds, no.”

Martin placed his hands on the desk and locked eyes with me.

“We ensure balance. We do not interfere in business or family matters unless…there is just cause.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” I shrugged.

“Now and then, there is a student who walks through our doors that we...take a special interest in their future. The reasoning can vary, but the result is the same.”

Martin looked at my bloody knuckles, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a package of wet wipes.

“Here, clean yourself up.”

I stared at my swollen hand as the fury burned bright inside of me, but I also felt helplessness creeping in to take over. I’d lost her. I’d done everything right, and I still lost her. I’d put on a brave face for Ana, but the empty void in my chest felt like my heart had stopped beating the moment she got in that car. What the hell was I going to do?

“What do you want from me,” I asked, wiping at the dried blood.

“I’ll be very honest with you, Edmundo, we cannot help you get Yulianna back. That is between you and Mr. Mikhailov. We are offering to help make your ultimate goal a reality.”

Whatever that meant, my interest was officially piqued.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m leaving this here.”

He tapped the plain folder on his desk that had been there the whole time. Had I passed some test by not touching it?

“I’ll be out of the room for a few minutes while I make copies of the paperwork needed to write up the altercation from today. More than likely, the copier will jam, and it will take me longer to come back. I’m not telling you to look at what is inside, but if you do…you may find it intriguing.”

Martin took a sip of his tea, nodded, and then quietly left. I watched him close the door before turning back to the folder. Maybe this was the test. Did he want me to look? Deciding that the dean was trying to help, I slid the folder closer and opened the top.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.