Page 16 of Ruthless Ambition
Chapter 4: Onyx
There’s not a lot to be said for college board meetings. I didn’t really care about the staff or faculty. I had no love for the dean, and I had a low tolerance level for the vice dean. I was interested in the stadium and the coaching staff, and would be until my brothers and cousin were finished here.
My family ran this college from the day they laid the first brick. A Santo was always on the college board, and at the moment, there were three of us — my dad, my uncle, and I.
My dad and my uncle were genuinely interested in the running of the college, and they were actively involved in the awarding of the scholarships. I had no interest in that either.
Very little held my interest, which is why I was reading the news on my phone as Dean Porter droned on about Cardinal Saints College being the center of academic excellence. My uncle kicked my ankle beside me, and slowly I turned to look at him and was met with an amused look of innocence.
“Am I interrupting you, Mr. Santo?” Dean Porter snapped.
Three identical stares met his, and I couldn’t help but smirk when the prick paled.
“Which Santo are you referring to?” my uncle Kage asked. There was a history between the dean, my dad, and uncle. I had never gotten to the bottom of it, but I believed it had something to do with the Devils and the mayhem we caused.
Every Santo that ever walked the halls of this college was a Devil. When my great-great-whatever-grandfather started his venture into higher education, he had caused an uproar at the time by letting people of color into the same college as the shiny white people, which was unheard of in the Deep South. The local people called them devils for their sacrilegious thinking that no matter the color of your skin, everyone should be treatedequally, and everyone deserved an education, should they want it.
Thereafter, the legacy of the Devils was born. Some Devils played pranks, some doled out justice. I was more of the latter. My time in these walls had been what my dad termed as “wilder” than my ancestors, and that was just about the stuff he knew about.
Half-heartedly listening to Porter mumble his way through his protests, I checked my phone as I received a text.
Neil:Clark Fitzpatrick is in the holding cells, Angel’s on her way to the local PD
Fuck me.She needed to drop this guy and fast. Shoving my seat back, I stood as the conversation once more ground to a halt.
“I vote for candidate thirty-three for the English Lit scholarship, candidate seventeen for the Santo scholarship, and candidate twenty-one for the remaining. Coach wants new logos on the uniforms for the Saints, I vote against. The money is better spent on the upgrading of the turf in the stadium.” I produced a report and handed it to my dad. “I researched it — costly but more maintainable in the long run. We need a new team doctor, as I believe Izzy is handing in her resignation,” I told them as I produced another report. “These are my recommendations. Dad,” I handed him a handful of reports to pass around, “I need to go to work. My dad has my proxy vote.”
Porter stared at me wordlessly as my dad handed out the reports. My uncle watched me with glee, and bending down to speak to him, I lowered my voice. “Tell the boys I’ll catch them later. They’re expecting dinner. Be a good uncle.”
“I was already planning on seeing my son and nephews,” he told me dryly.
“Such a good dad.” I grinned at him as I clasped my own dad’s shoulder and left the board meeting.
Once outside, I called Neil. “Tell me.”
“She left about twenty minutes ago, said he’s been picked up for drunk and disorderly.”
“She needs to dump his ass,” I growled as I headed to my car. “The press know yet?”
“Don’t think so. She has some kind of understanding with the local cop,” Neil said, as if that were a good thing.
“And Sasha?”
“I don’t know if Angel’s been in contact with her yet.”
“Having a relationship with the cops is nothing if Sasha is already on the phone to the gossip rags,” I snarled as I opened my car door.
“Your plan?” Neil asked me.
“I need Sasha’s number, and I’ll take it from there.”
Firing off a quick text to my younger brother Gray to tell him I was missing family dinner, I headed back to Nashville. The drive took around an hour, and I was in a hurry and intended to make it in less. I also needed damage control, and with that in mind, I called one of the guys.
“It’s me. Need you at the Fitzpatrick house; Sasha called the cops.”
“Fuck, again?” Charlie growled down the phone. “Why the fuck you still his agent?”
“I’m not,” I told him tersely.
