Jackson
My fingers clenched around the steering wheel as I drove to the prison. I’d been anxious since Imani rejected me earlier when I proposed marking her, and my anxiety shot through the roof when Andrew swaggered into my office with his shit-eating grin.
I hated Andrew–always had. He offered nothing to bettering our society. If anything, he made it significantly worst by injecting his arrogance and cruelness like a noxious fume. He’d been cruel since he was a child in Oasis. Some might say Oasis made him that way, but I knew better. He was born unapologetically evil and that evil festered like a puss-filled wound.
Andrew was a coward and resigned to being a noble who could skate by and live his life untouched behind his gilded gates. I didn’t hold a disdain towards nobles–I came from the same noble bloodline as him; however, I looked down on those who felt the rules didn’t apply to them and that the world owed them for simply breathing.