Novels by Jennifer Ikeliani

Max's POVIt's obvious the girl has been drugged. What can I say? I tried to warn her when she bumped into me. But it seems she didn't listen to my advice. So, now I'm wondering: what should I do about her?Her quiet breathing is the sole indication that she is still alive as she lies still in my arms. She feels cozy and petite against my chest. Sadly, I don't think she will wake up anytime soon. If only I could figure out which of the powerful people here tonight caused this. I look around the room, trying to find someone strong enough to try this in front of so many people. Someone with ties to the underworld. Someone strong enough to keep the others quiet. A person used to having their way. Fortunately for me, there's just one individual who meets that criteria. "Ah, I see you've found my plaything." Mr. Martini steps through the mob towards me, as though he's been called. His shirtfront is smeared with blood, and it appears his nose is shattered. Though it's short-lived, the

Ava's POVThat was a complete disaster. Leave it to me to run into a scary white man head-on five minutes into the night. I exhale with relief as my gaze latches on a group of people in the far corner of the room.A bar is just what I need. If nothing else, at least a little drink will help me relax. Plus I'll have something to do. I move into the line as I wait in the queue, trying to occupy as little space as possible. Unfortunately, it appears that there are no drinks that I am familiar with. What on earth is a Negroni Sbagliato? It's probably something I can't afford, I try not to show my nervousness by speaking in a steady, calm tone when it's my turn to give the order. "Could I have one Natty Ice, please?" I realize it's not the most elegant choice, but as a financially strapped graduate student, I already have too little money. I am not going to go out and buy a drink for fifteen bucks. That was my plan, anyway. At my request, the bartender wrinkles his nose. He sneers

Ava's POVWhenever someone asks how I obtained a flawless GPA, numerous scholarships, and stellar reference letters, I usually think of an excuse like "positive thinking" or "ingenuity."What I refuse to acknowledge is that the root cause of my continuous volunteer work, long study sessions, and restless nights is one thing: uncontrollable, deeply uncomfortable anxiety.But on the bright side, I received an invitation to participate in something, which counts though.The Crestview Manor Ball is the annual charity banquet hosted by Bluffview University, where the university's most esteemed alumni, wealthiest donors, and a select group of elite students indulge in wild behavior until the wee hours of the morning.And me as well.I'm one of the fortunate undergrads who received an invitation, having been selected as this year's valedictorian. That means that four years of sweat, blood, and tears might just be worthwhile.If what my roommate said in their motivational speech about me find