Chapter 1: The Academy

[Lily]

My mother said she loved me, but then she died when I was 13 and left my care to the devil. 

I'm supposed to call him "grandfather" but "devil" suits him better. Grandfathers are supposed to be compassionate and kind but Andrew Adare doesn’t understand the concept of kindness. I didn’t even know he existed, or that my real last name was “Adare” until he came to me at my mother’s funeral and claimed to be my family. He didn’t even give me a chance to say goodbye to my friends or my old life, I wasn’t even allowed to take a single memory with me. He just swept me off in his private jet, and as soon as he could, shipped me off with little explanation.

“You look so much like her,” was all that he said to me. The only words that I heard from his mouth before disappearing and leaving me to the care of nannies and cooks and butlers. 

I don’t know why he bothered to take me if he doesn’t really want me. He hates me so much that he can't wait to get rid of me. As soon as summer ends he sends me back here to The Academy, an exclusive boarding school for the children of the world’s elite. Families put their children on waiting lists for this place at conception. And yet my grandfather got me a spot with little more effort than a phone call.

Lucky me. I should be grateful. 

The Academy’s real name is "The Luminary Society Academy for Young Entrepreneurs" but nobody calls it that. To anyone who has ever gone here, anyone who has ever lived under its shadow, it is and will forever be "The Academy." It doesn't need a longer name. It's the only Academy that matters. But I have another name for this place.

Hell.

And waiting at the gates every year to greet me are Satan's seven generals: Atticus, Evie, Veronica, Simon, Lazarus, Zephyra, and Madison. Each of them is beautiful, cruel, and ridiculously wealthy. I might be the granddaughter of billionaire Andrew Adare, one of the richest men on the East Coast, but I was here on charity and pity and everyone knew it. Especially them. 

The Legacy Seven. My worst enemies. 

At some point, they decided that they'd make it their personal mission to force me to quit. They somehow learned that if I dropped out of school, or graduated with anything less than perfect marks, my grandfather would completely disown me, leaving me penniless again.

I’m only an Adare because my grandfather claims me. But everyone at the Academy knows I'm not a real Adare, I'm just the bastard of one. My mother, the billionaire heiress Alana Adare fell from grace and lost everything when her father disowned her.

A fact that The Seven will never let me forget. 

During my first year at The Academy, they tried to break me by putting snakes in unexpected places. My clothes, my shoes, my lunchbox. They had to quit when a misplaced snake almost killed the dean. A snake slithering out of her shower head one morning put her into the hospital because it scared her so badly she went into cardiac arrest and had to be taken away in an ambulance. 

During my second year, they managed to find a way to make sure that every article of clothing I had for school smelled like skunk. Nobody would let me wash my clothing on campus once they realized the smell lingered in the washer and dryer afterward. I was forced to wash my laundry by hand. In the bathtub. 

Last year, they thought it would be funny to tell everyone not to talk to me. Imagine going through a whole school year without a single word spoken to you. Not even the teachers. They were just as scared of the Legacy Seven as the rest of us peasants. 

I’m not their only victim. I’m not that special. I’m just the only one they haven’t broken yet. 

This year, who knows? Does it even matter anymore? They want me to leave. I can't leave. It is a hopeless loop of misery for both sides. I can choose to let it get me down or I can try to put a positive spin on my situation. 

As our driver drops me off in front of the school, I take a deep breath of the clean country air and make a decision.

This year will be different. This year I've decided to embrace the adventure and treat their little game like a pleasant surprise. I mean, I already know what they won't do. They'd hate to repeat themselves. 

Rubbing my hands together, I pull my straight brown hair back into a scrunchy and grab the handles of my wheeled suitcases ready to meet my doom. 

Only this time as I cross the threshold into the academy, something feels wrong. I can’t quite put my finger on it at first, but something is different. Then I realize what it is, why I feel so tense. 

Usually, on the first day of school the Legacy Seven wait on the balcony of the second floor above the main doors to the school where they hurl insults and sometimes rotting food at the targets of their wrath from above. As I pass through into the main hall, I realize I didn’t miss out on the insults because I was lucky, it was because this year, for the first time, the balcony is conspicuously empty.

I look around me suspiciously. If the seven aren’t there, where are they? What are they up to? A strange chill creeps up my spine as I think of the possibilities. A smarter me might have listened to that feeling and seen it for what it was--the calm before the storm.

But at this moment, as I enter the dorm room, I’m not that smart enough to turn around and escape my fate. Instead, I shrug it off as good luck, grateful that I don’t need to scrape eggs out of my hair for the first time in three years, and head straight for my room.

Just as expected, Nyx, my best friend and roommate, is already there, putting her stuff away while dancing to some old pop song. I set my suitcases in the corner and she gives me a big hug.  

“Ready to go to orientation,” she groans as she grabs her notebook. I nod grabbing my own things and we are off to meet the masses.

The dorms are in separate wings of the school, so it takes us a few minutes to walk to the main hall where everyone is gathered. As we walk, we discuss everything that has happened over the summer. I’ve missed her so much. There is something about her that always makes me forget that I’m in such a nightmare of a place. With her good humor and gracious nature, she has the power to make me smile in almost any situation.

Because it is the first day of school, everyone is milling around trying to find their way as they learn where to go and which classes they’ve been assigned. The new students, overwhelmed and lost, stumble through the room looking for some sign that they are going in the right direction. The room is also too full. It was not designed to hold the entire school, and some parents, and all the teachers, and everyone’s luggage all at the same time. It is inevitable that you will bump into someone. The hope is that you won’t bump into someone you are trying to avoid. 

So of course that means you will run into the very people you are trying to avoid. 

I was talking to Nyx, not looking carefully where I was going when I tripped over some poor freshman who was on their hands and knees trying to pick up their spilled book bag. 

My legs hit the bent-over back of the younger student and I found myself falling forward. It felt like I was flying as I failed to regain my balance, falling head-first into the marble floors of the main hall. 

I close my eyes, waiting to feel the pain of my body hitting the hard marble floors. Except that it never happens. Two strong arms hold me up, catching me just before it makes contact. 

“Thank you,” I express my gratitude not noticing at first how quiet the room had become, nor how everyone’s eyes were focused on us. ”Excuse me,” I apologize again. “I couldn’t see where I was going and I…”

“You know,” a smooth, deep voice replies, one that sends shivers down my spine, “You really should watch where you are going. 

The room is silent as everyone listens to our interaction. My body is shaking because I recognize that voice. It is a voice that I hide from when I hear it in the hallways, one that I go out of my way to avoid. 

Slowly I open my eyes blinking up into the bright light and the well chiseled features of a handsome blond boy with startling hazel eyes, so beautiful that he could be an angel. 

Holding me tight to his chest is none other than Atticus Preston, leader of the Legacy Seven. The king of the bullies and one of my worst tormentors over the last 3 years.