Page 54 of The Brat: Prequel

O’Donnelly has so many classes that he’d meet himself coming backward.

Victoria, on the other hand, socializes more than I’d expect and with people I never imagined she’d like. Frat brothers? My katyonok toys with her kill like any predator. These dumb boys can barely spell their double-barreled names.

“What’s her game?”

“Trust you to pick a psycho we can’t read,” Misha grumbles.

I pin him with a glare. “I thought we talked about the adjectives you use to describe her.”

“She’s pulling some kind of scam.”

“Scam,” I scoff. “On whom?”

“I don’t know. But trust me, she’s working her way around that frat.”

“Watch your mouth, Misha.”

He shrugs. “I’m not slut-shaming⁠—”

“You really want to die tonight, don’t you?”

He jabs the picture with his finger. “Why don’t you ask her what she’s doing?”

“Because she’d lie.”

He gapes at me. “What?”

And I realize he has no concept, no frame of reference, to the relationship I have with Victoria.

“She’d couch it in a half-truth, but it’d be a lie nonetheless.”

“She lies to you?” The question ends in a shriek.

“What surprises you?”

“That you indulge her.” He looks like he could vomit. “My god, I didn’t need to know this about you.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t pin a ladybug down unless it’s dead.”

“Lovely imagery. So, you want her to flit around and see other men.”

I study the picture. “She isn’t. Whatever she’s doing, it’s more of a trap than enticement.”

At first glance, I thought her eyes were closed because she’s into it.

Now, I realize she’s shutting this asshole out so he doesn’t ruin her moment.

“You think this is an O’Donnelly ploy?”

“I think they wouldn’t put her in danger,” I counter.

If they do, they’ll pay for it with their fucking balls.

“Then they don’t know their niece,” he scoffs. “That girl’s caused more bloodshed on our streets than heroin.”

“A bit overdramatic, Misha, don’t you think?”

“She’s fucking dangerous. The mob version of Typhoid Mary. Wherever she goes, body parts soon follow.”