Typhon by M.E. Clayton
I was doing my best notto punch this motherfucker in the face.
It wasactually a testament to the control I had over my emotions that August Remington wasn’t already laid out at my feet. He knew the rules just as well as I did.
Just as well as wealldid.
So, why he felt as though he could just chat it up with me-in public-was beyond me. Especially, considering how what I did was none of his business in the first place. Contrary to what he and the others might think, I wasn’t a sheep. I wasn’t in this because it was what was expected of me. I wasn’t in this to follow in the footsteps before me. I wasn’t in this just to be a piece of a bigger puzzle.
I was in this to rule the fuckingworld and every key player in it.
“C’mon,Stone,” he said, pretending to speak in a whisper but not doing a very good job of it. “Everybody picks a girl, dude. No one’s not ever picked a girl before.”
Wewere seated next to each other in Applied Statistics, and it was too late to trade seats without causing a few heads to turn if he got butthurt. It also bothered me that he thought this commonality made us friends.
We weren’t friends.
While I had a fuckton of acquaintances and a shitload of casual friends, I only had one real friend. Even if he weren’t a part of all this, even if I couldn’t tell him about all this shit, even if he wasn’t privy to the biggest part of my life, Lennox Wilde was still my only real friend.
“I’m not talking to you about this, August,” I bit out. “Especially, nothere.”
“Oh, right,” he mumbled. “Yeah, yeah.”
Now I really wanted to punch him in the face.
The bastard knew what he was doing and why. Unfortunately for him, so did I. No matter what my signature had agreed to, I wasn’t stupid.
Nor was I weak.
My signaturehad promised a lot, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to play my cards close to the vest. It didn’t mean I was going to lay all my plans out in a nice, neat little diagram for them all to see and follow. It didn’t change the fact that I didn’t know these people well enough, considering.
August had already picked his girl.
They all had.
Ross had chosen his girl our sophomore year at Hales University. Fox had chosen his girl last year, during winter break. And Saxton had chosen his girl when we’d been fucking freshman, for fuck’s sake. August had chosen his girl just a few months ago, right before summer began.
However, we were all seniors now, and the ceremony was only two weeks away. Always the last weekend in September. Never in the same place, but always during that same last weekend of the month. Not sure why, and I never asked because I honestly didn’t give a fuck.
Still,what August failed to realize was that, even if I’d already chosen a girl, I wouldn’t have told him. I wouldn’t have told any of them. They didn’t need to know who I’d chosen, if anyone.
While RossCarmichael, Fox Harrington, and Saxton Voss were reputed to be ruthless but solid, I still didn’t know them beyond who they were and a few superficial conversations over the years. They were every bit as commanding as you’d expect from their last names and their family lines, but I still didn’t know them like that.
However, I didn’t get sketchy vibes from them the way I did August Remington. August Remington was a bad apple, and it was unfortunate that he was in my graduating class. It was also unfortunate that’d he’d been one of the selected few.
There was also the issue of the girls. Again, because I wasn’t stupid or anyone’s goddamn puppet, the second I’d gotten wind of the names of the girls who’d been picked, I had done my own background checks on them, and my background checks had rivaled that of the damn FBI.
I was going to knoweveryonein that room with me when the time came.
The professor started class, and much tomy surprise, August turned his attention to the front of the class. However, I knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. He wanted to know if I was bullshitting when I’d told him that I wasn’t picking a girl. He wanted to know if I was up to something, and if that was going to derail whatever shady shit he was up to.
I thought about the girls that had been chosen, and they were exactly what you expect; compliant.
Jennifer Polk, Alexis Wyatt, Kincaid Black, and Laney Spinner had been the girls chosen among our class, and they all were predictable.
Well, all, except Kincaid Black.
If I were to care about any of them being chosen, I’d care why Saxton Voss had chosen her out of all the females available. Kincaid Black’s family was about as ruthless as all of the males’ families on the list to attend. If Ross, Fox, Saxton, August, and I were sharks, then Kincaid Black was the set of teeth inside the shark’s jaws.
Ross had chosen Jennifer, Fox had chosen Alexis, Saxton had chosen Kincaid, and August had chosen Laney. Every girl, save Kincaid, came from a family and an upbringing that was guaranteed to make them agreeable to whatever terms were laid out to them. And knowing what’s to be expected of them, it did make me wonder what Kincaid’s role was in all of this.
Plus,August wasn’t wrong. It was unheard of for one of us not to pick a girl. It simply wasn’t done. There was a reason the saying that ‘behind every great man is a great woman’ existed. There was a reason the saying that ‘reformed rakes make the best husbands’ existed. Men were nothing without women, and that was just a fact.
There were onlytwo things in this world that could break a man: money and pussy.
You couldhave all the money in the world and lose it all to pussy, or you could have the best pussy in the world and lose it to money. Via unfortunate circumstances or your own stupidity, being able to have both was a tough sell.
Let me rephrase.
Being able to have bothand be happywas a tough sell. If you wanted the money, you had to put in the work and that often led to neglect of the other. If you wanted the pussy, you had to put in the time and that often led to abandoned potential of the other.
A truly successful man needed his woman’s goals to match his own. If he wanted success, he needed a woman who could respect success. If he wanted a family, he needed woman who could respect family.
Astrong woman was capable of one of two things: her resolve would be strong enough to help you rise, or it would be strong enough to hold you down.
It was the reasonI wasn’t choosing a girl. I haven’t met one that I could trust with my vision or secrets. I haven’t met one that’s done anything beyond getting my dick hard.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I had a bunch of female acquaintances and got along well with the fairer sex. I didn’t think they were inferior or belonged in the kitchen. I didn’t think they were just pieces of meat to be used for my sexual gratification only. I had the upmost respect for women as a whole.
Now, stupidsluts? That was a different story.
However, for all thewomen who have come and gone in my life, I’ve never looked at one and felt anything above my belt. My dick had stirred plenty of times, but I’ve never connected with a female.
Still,with my plans to rise to the highest ranks of this ridiculous tradition, any old girl just wouldn’t do.
I needed fire.
I needed loyalty.
I needed some Bonnie and Clyde shit.
Or Mickey and Mallory.
Either way, I was prepared to do this solo. I really didn’t care what the other guys did with their girls as long as nothing interfered with what I had going on. I planned on owning every dollar and person attached to it within the organization, and nothing was going to stop me.
Plus,if I ever did find a girl who did more for me than provide a blowjob, there was no way she’d become one of the pawns.
She’d be my fucking queen.
And it’d be my job to make sure I was worthy enough to be her king.