Several days later.
The afternoon sun hung low over Draxton High, casting long golden spears across the circular central courtyard. The academy was built like a fortress of learning — seven concentric floors of classrooms wrapped around a wide open ground, each level featuring a continuous curved balcony that overlooked the heart of the school. From any balcony, the front gate and every inch of the courtyard were visible. Today, that visibility became a curse.
A matte-black convoy rolled through the iron gates — three sleek vehicles moving in perfect formation. The moment the first car stopped, the entire school seemed to inhale and hold its breath.
Students poured onto every balcony like startled birds. Within seconds, all seven floors were lined with wide-eyed faces pressed against railings — freshmen, seniors, teachers, staff. Whispers erupted in frantic waves.
"Oh my God… is that them?"
"The Seven Monsters…"
"All seven… they're all here."
"Why? What did we do?"
"Someone's going to die today."
"Shut up, they'll hear us!"
From the fourth-floor balcony, Ira stood frozen among the crowd, sketchbook clutched to her chest. Her dark eyes locked on the tallest figure stepping out last — head slightly lowered, long dark hair falling forward to shadow his sharp face. Even from this distance, she recognized him instantly. Her breath caught.
Why are the seven monsters here?
The brothers moved as one, cutting across the courtyard like a black blade.
**Kai Viramont Krossvale** (28) led them — sharpest yet the calmest face among all, dressed in a tailored black suit with the jacket left open, black shirt beneath. A thin silver chain rested against his collarbones. His short, silky dark hair fell just over his thick left eyebrow, framing a face of devastating beauty. Every step radiated absolute command.
Beside him walked **Lucas Crossvale** (27) — slightly broader and more muscular than others except Vernon, but still lean and athletic.He wore a coat over a tight black t-shirt that strained across his shoulders, paired with dark jeans and combat boots. His hair was shorter, messy, a single silver ring glinting in his ear. He had a golden tooth sparkling from his filthy smile.
**Damon Krossvale** (27) moved like liquid shadow — sleek black turtleneck, long coat draped over one shoulder, hair falling in controlled waves to his jaw. A thin scar ran through his left eyebrow.
**Leon Krossvale** (26) had an elegant look— crisp black dress shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing corded forearms, paired with tailored black trousers and polished shoes. His hair was tied back neatly, revealing cold, aristocratic features.
**Victor Krossvale** (26) — He wore a black coat over a fitted black t-shirt that clung lightly to his defined shoulders and chest, paired with dark pleated pants and black combat boots. His hair was buzzed short on the sides, longer on top.
**Ren Krossvale** (26) wore all black — wearing a fitted black turtleneck beneath a long black coat, gloves on his hands. His short, silky hair was sleek and straight, half-covering one eye in a deliberate, brooding curtain.
And at the rear walked **Vernon Krossvale** (27) — the tallest, head lowered, long dark hair falling messily around his sharp jaw, black coat open over his bare, scarred chest. He moved slower than the others, almost detached, boots dragging slightly. Even in his detached state, he was devastatingly handsome — the kind of deadly beauty that made the girls on the balconies whisper and clutch the railings tighter.
"Is that Vernon? Look at his hair…"
"He's even hotter in person…"
"Shut up, he'll hear you—"
The fear was palpable—electric, suffocating.
The fear in the air was electric.
Teachers started trembling watching them. As if monsters had walked straight out of the hell to their school ground.
Kai didn't pause at the main entrance. He walked straight to the principal's office on the ground floor, the six brothers following in perfect formation.
The heavy oak doors of the meeting room on the ground floor swung open without warning.
Principal Harlan Whitmore sat at the head of the long conference table, surrounded by eight senior teachers—department heads, counselors, the vice-principal—all of them mid-sentence in a routine budget discussion. Papers, coffee cups, and half-finished notes lay scattered across the polished surface.
The moment the seven Krossvale brothers stepped inside, the room died.
Every voice cut off. Every pen froze. Every breath caught in terror.
The seven Krossvale brothers stepped inside.
The room died.
Every voice vanished. Every pen clattered to the table. Every breath caught in terror.
Kai Viramont Krossvale entered first—lean, razor-sharp, devastatingly handsome. Tailored black suit open at the chest, thin silver chain glinting against pale skin, short silky dark hair falling just over thick eyebrows. His face was lethal beauty: high cheekbones, cold eyes, jaw that could cut glass.
Behind him came the others—six shadows in black, each dangerously beautiful. Lucas Crossvale, Damon Crossvale, Leon Crossvale, Victor Crossvale, Ren Crossvale
Vernon Crossvale—last, head slightly lowered—long dark hair tied back— hair strands falling on his lethal face.
Kai didn't speak at first.
He walked to the head of the table—where Principal Harland Whitmore sat—and without a word, kicked the man's chair back. Harlan scrambled up, trembling.
Kai sat.
He swung one leg up onto the table—boot thudding down among the scattered papers—leaned back, arms crossed, and stared at the room.
The six brothers stood behind him in a perfect line—silent, still, radiating menace.
No one breathed.
Kai's voice finally cut through the silence—low, cold, dangerous.
"How could you do this Mr. Principal? "
The principal's knees buckled. He gripped the edge of the table to stay upright.
"Mr. Krossvale… I—I swear, I didn't mean—"
"How dare you?" Kai's tone dropped lower, more lethal. "You leaked our shipment routes to the Marlows. Skimmed five percent off every protection payment this school has paid us. "
Mr. Whitmore's voice cracked. "They threatened my family—my daughters—I had no choice—"
"No choice?" Kai leaned forward, eyes narrowing .
"You don't need a choice. You betrayed us. That's all..
* Smirking* I am amazed seeing your audacity "
Mr. Whitmore's heart pounded so fast as if it was going to explode in fear .
Kai said sharply:
" Do you have any fucking idea what I can do to you and your family?"
Mrs. Langley—English department head—made a small, terrified whimper. Mr. Patel's glasses slid down his nose; he didn't dare fix them.
Kai's voice turned soft—terrifyingly soft.
"I can have your wife taken tonight. Your two little girls… I can umm... surely take good care of them. I can tear your skin off strip by strip while you're still breathing and feed it to dogs in front of your wife. I can make your daughters watch while I carve pieces off you—slowly—until there's nothing left to recognize. And when I'm done, I'll burn what's left so no one ever finds the pieces. You know I can do it. You've heard the stories. You've seen what's left of people who cross us."
Mr. Whitmore collapsed to his knees. Tears streamed down his face. He crawled forward—actually crawled—until he was at Kai's feet.
"Please… please, Mr. Krossvale… I beg you." His voice broke into sobs. "They're just children. My girls—they're only fourteen and sixteen. I'll do anything. Anything! Take my house, take my savings, take my life—just not them. I beg you on my knees. Mercy. Please…"
The teachers were statues—some crying silently, some clutching each other, all trembling violently.
Kai watched him for a long moment—expressionless.
Then he leaned back.
"Pathetic ."
He slid a thick document across the table.
"From this moment, I am the new Chairman of the Board of Draxton High. My six brothers will serve as board members. All of them. You will sign this right now. You will announce it over the intercom in ten minutes. And you will remember—every student, every teacher, every soul in this building now belongs to the Krossvales."
Mr. Whitmore's hand shook so violently he could barely hold the pen. Tears dripped onto the paper as he scrawled his name—over and over, until the ink smeared.
Kai watched him finish.
Then he stood—slow, deliberate.
"Ten minutes," he said without looking back. "Make the announcement."
He turned.
The six brothers parted for him like shadows.
They walked out.
The doors closed.
The teachers remained frozen—some sobbing quietly, some staring at the signed document like it was a death warrant.
Ten minutes later, the intercom crackled across every floor.
Principal Harland Whitmore's voice—broken, trembling, barely human—filled the school:
"Attention… students and staff… Effective immediately… Mr. Kai Viramont Krossvale is the new Chairman of the Board… and his brothers… are now board members. All school policies… will be reviewed under their authority from now on. Thank you."
The intercom clicked off.
A stunned silence fell across the entire academy — then exploded into terrified whispers from every balcony.
Someone said,
" We are screwed!"
On the fourth floor, Ira stood frozen, fingers white-knuckled on the railing, staring down at the seven figures now walking across the courtyard like they owned the ground itself.
The school had just fallen into darkness.
To be continued...