Chapter Fourteen

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Sorry, it is taking me so long to update! The quick updates will return when I get my device back.

This chapter is a bit longer, but it is still cut shorter than I would have liked. 

The boys are a little different than other versions. I am trying to make them a bit more of my own characters. In Sang Insane, I didn't develop them much, but I am trying to develop their characters in this book.

Enjoy!

Enjoy!

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Owen clears his throat and nods before asking his first question, "What mafia branch is this?"

I never mentioned?

I shrug and answer, "This is the Gothel branch. Next."

"Why are you coming to see us now instead of a previous time?"

"Why would I have come earlier? I didn't have a reason before. Now, I wanted a reassurance that you guys were doing alright," I say simply, barely paying attention to his questions because I am so eager for my turn.

"Do you know of a McCoy?" Owen inquires carefully.

I wrinkle my nose and spit angrily, "Know? Unfortunately, yes. Disgusting man."

Owen looks taken aback.

"Why do you hate him so much?"

Oh. Was it that obvious?

"Nope, you already got your three questions. It is my turn now," I state with a grin. Of course, it isn't a smile that shows teeth, I can't remember the last time I fully smiled with teeth and everything, but just the arrival of these boys is making me smile more often.

Carefully, okay not very carefully, I think of my question and ask, "Why do all the others look to you and allow you to speak for them?"

"I suppose it is because I am the team's liaison and responsible for all fourteen of them. I make the majority of decisions and they respect them, knowing that I have their best interests at heart and that I have a level head and do my best to make wise choices that solve, rather than cause, problems," Owen explains fully.

Huh.

I don't think that I have ever been in charge, really. I wonder if it is hard. Probably not if he can be in charge.

"What is your favorite color, Owen?"

Owen swallows and answers plainly, "Gray."

Filing the answer away in my mind, I ask the next question, "And how long have you been working with the A-Academy?"

I stumbled slightly with the name Academy because I cannot stand the Academy. Father and Mother have shown me just how inferior the Academy is and all of its flaws.

"I joined the Academy when I was about thirteen years old," Owen answers tersely.

I announce, "Well, Owen, it has been nice talking to you and thank you for this idea and being honest, but I shall now be moving on to the next person."

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