Page 165 of Depraved Boys

“Don’t you have a younger sister at home?” Leopold’s voice was soft.

Her bottom lip trembled, and her shoulders shook with rage. She darted around us and stormed out of the stairwell and into the hallway.

I tried to follow, but Prakash held onto my shoulder. “Nothing you say will sway her. Bianca has to come to this decision herself.”

“But—”

“She’s more likely to refuse your help just to frustrate you,” added Leopold. “Give her some time and don’t even think about dropping the police investigation because you feel bad about her situation.”

My posture slumped. They were probably right. I hated Bianca with every ounce of vitriol in my liver, but I despised her father even more.

After classes, I returned to my room to find Bianca’s thick envelope on my bed. I stood in the middle of my room and surveyed its contents. If she broke in to leave her father’s blood money, what else had she done?

Corrine’s diary lay on my desk, next to my laptop and propped against the wall stood two photos Aunt Hortense took of the five of us painting the outside wall of the house.

A pang of sadness twisted in my chest. That was the month after we had moved out of London, and the light behind Ashley’s eyes had started to dim. If I had known we’d only had four more years together, I might not have spent more time doing things with Mom and Dad and less time studying.

Tearing my gaze away from the photo, I walked to the bed, picked up the envelope, and stuffed it in my bag. “I don’t want it.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Willow?”

“Huh?” it sounded like Sebastian.

“Can I come in?”

“Go on.”

He opened the door and slipped into my room. “I don’t think I explained myself very well.”

I placed my bag on the bed and folded my arms. “What do you mean?”

“I know how that statement I gave the police sounded.”

My heart thudded so hard, I twitched. Logic told me that people grow and move on from their thirteen-year-old selves, but the pattern of behavior he had depicted in the statement mirrored precisely how we had gotten together. The main difference was that he’d brought a friend along for the seduction, and my resistance had been as flimsy as tissue paper.

Even though he would deny it, I had to ask, “Am I just a challenge to—”

“No.” He crossed the room and placed a finger on my lips. “What we have is real. We might have Grease and other things in common, but isn’t that the basis of all friendships?”

I stared up into the widened pupils of his verdant, green eyes and gulped. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

“A lot more.” He brushed his knuckles down the side of my face, sending a mirroring tingle down my spine. “I want things to be back the way they were before any of this madness started.”

My gaze lingered on his full, kissable lips. If I continued staring at his face, I would melt and never get any answers. Instead, I focussed on the green, striped tie of his uniform.

“Willow, you’ve come to mean so much to me,” he murmured. “I really like the girl behind the pretty face and hourglass figure. You’ve suffered so much, but it’s made you stronger and not twisted you like it might have done to other girls.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. There were so many compliments in that statement, I didn’t know how to react. “You really think so?”

Sebastian nodded. “I also want to kiss and make up.”

I raised my brows and tilted my head up to meet his hopeful gaze. “Just kiss and make up?”

“More, if you’ll let me.” His lips spread into a grin that made a stray butterfly flutter between my legs.

My gaze flickered to my narrow bed, which made him chuckle. “Not here.” He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Back at the hideout.”

After donning a winter coat, I took his hand, and we walked through the academy and through to the dark, snowy courtyard. Iron lamplights illuminated our way, making the academy grounds look like something out of a Christmas card.