Lords of Wrath (Royals of Forsyth University, #2)

by Angel Lawson

In the distance, past the public housing and small rundown bungalows, is a large house. A mansion, really—the same one I’d seen that night with Tristian. The one Gussy-Z had built for his mother. It’s surrounded by an ornate wrought-iron gate with gold accents. Killian pulls up to the intercom and presses the buzzer. A man answers, and after Killian identifies himself, the gates slowly open. I look around us, a zing of discomfort rolling up my spine. “What is this place?” The grounds are impressive, green and well-kept. It’s like stepping into a different world from the shitty streets just outside the gates. “You’re looking at the new and improved Velvet Hideaway,” he says, even though nothing about it looks hidden away. Killian stops the truck in the turnaround and faces me, leveling me with a deadpan look. “It’s a whorehouse, Story.”