LILLY POV💦
I stared at the note, fingers trembling around the paper.
> "We don't need charity cases pretending to be scholars. Stay in your lane."
—SV
The handwriting was neat. Feminine. A cruel kind of elegance that didn't bother hiding its venom. My locker, usually a place of quiet routine, now felt like a public execution site.
Samantha Vale had made her move.
I tore the note in half, then again, until the pieces fluttered to the floor like ash. I didn't cry. I was beyond crying now. I just felt… cold. Not numb. Not empty.
Just a still, freezing cold where my fire used to be.
---
I found my cleaning cart hidden behind the boiler room—wedged between rusted pipes and a leaking tank. Whoever dragged it there had taken their time.
I rolled it out with shaking arms, dragging the mop behind me like a sword.
I wasn't going to quit.
Not because of her.
Not because of anyone.
---
Classes passed in a haze. I sat in the back of the lecture hall on my break, half-listening as a professor droned on about societal hierarchies—funny, given I was living inside one. My eyes kept drifting toward the center row.
Samantha Vale. Front and center. Spine straight. Head tilted in smug confidence. Her gold pen glittered as she took notes, but I doubted she needed them. People like her didn't just study the system.
They were the system.
I wondered how many people she'd stepped over to get that seat. I wondered if I'd be next.
---
💦 LUCA POV💦
Samantha Vale was a snake in heels.
Not the fun kind, either—the sharp, slithering type that smiled at you while injecting venom.
I'd known her since prep school. My father loved her family. Called them "old money," like that meant something noble. But Samantha didn't want status.
She wanted control.
And now, she wanted Lilly out of the picture.
Too bad for her, I'd already made up my mind.
I was going to burn the whole board before I let her win.
---
I found Lilly that afternoon behind the library, crouched beside a broken vending machine, using a hairpin to jimmy it open. Bold move. Bold girl.
"Need help robbing university property?" I asked.
She glanced up. "Only if you know how to pick locks."
I held up a keycard. "I know how to override them."
Her brow lifted. "You break a lot of rules?"
"Only the ones written by hypocrites."
She snorted. "Nice line. You rehearse it in the mirror?"
I stepped closer. "Lilly…"
"Don't," she said sharply. "Don't act like we're allies now. One nice sentence doesn't undo weeks of silence."
"I know," I said quietly. "But I'm not on her side."
"Maybe not," she said, eyes locking on mine, "but you're still on your side. And that's dangerous enough."
She walked away before I could answer.
And somehow… that hurt more than it should have.
---
💦LILLY POV💦
That evening, I got a text from Professor Torres:
> "Need to speak. Urgent. Admin is pushing for early decision on grant. Meet me in my office after 7."
My stomach twisted.
I skipped dinner, finished my shift early, and practically ran across campus. When I reached her office, the lights were off—but the door was ajar.
I knocked. "Professor?"
No answer.
I stepped inside cautiously. Her coat was draped over her chair. A mug sat half-full beside a stack of papers. But she wasn't there.
Just as I turned to leave, I noticed something on her desk.
A file.
My file.
And on top of it, a typed letter with the university's crest.
"RECOMMENDATION FOR REMOVAL OF GRANT CANDIDACY – LILLIAN LORENZO"
I stared, frozen. My heart thudded so loud I could barely hear my own breathing.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
---
💦 LUCA POV💦
When I turned the corner and saw her standing in that office, holding that letter, I knew we were past pretending.
"Lilly," I said. "What—?"
"Don't," she snapped, eyes bright with fury. "Don't pretend you didn't know."
"I didn't," I said, stepping forward. "I swear. I came here to talk to Torres, too. I just found out they're accelerating the vote."
She held up the letter. "This isn't a vote. This is a sentence."
I walked around the desk and read the letter. My blood went cold.
It was formal. Official. Signed not by a professor, but by someone higher.
Vice Dean Hawkins.
Samantha's uncle.
Of course.
I met Lilly's eyes. "This is illegal. She didn't even get a hearing."
"She didn't even get a chance," she whispered.
Then, suddenly, a thought struck me like a bolt.
"What time was the letter logged?" I asked, snatching the folder.
The timestamp read: 6:17 PM.
"I can fix this," I said.
"Luca—"
But I was already gone.
---
Scene Break: Samantha Vale's
From the top floor of the student lounge, Samantha sipped her green tea and watched the world move beneath her.
Lilly Lorenzo had no idea what game she'd stepped into.
This wasn't just about a grant. It was about balance. Tradition. Control.
And the more Lilly fought back, the harder she'd fall.
---
💦LILLY POV💦
I stood in the dark office alone, heart pounding in my throat. Something in me shifted that night—not rage, not fear, but something colder.
Clarity.
This world wasn't designed for people like me. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't neutral. I couldn't win by playing nice anymore.
So I wasn't going to.
If they wanted a fight?
They'd get one.
---
💦 LUCA POV💦
I found Vice Dean Hawkins at the alumni gala he was hosting—a smug gathering of people congratulating each other for being rich.
I didn't knock.
I barged into the private lounge like I owned the place.
Because technically? I kind of did.
"Hawkins," I said. "About the Legacy Grant."
He turned, startled. "Lucas? Shouldn't you be—"
"Celebrating? Maybe. But I thought I'd swing by to tell you: if Lilly Lorenzo's candidacy is revoked without a hearing, I will make sure your name hits the student paper, the alumni bulletin, and every media contact on my father's payroll."
His eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"
"No," I smiled. "I'm promising exposure. Fairness. You know—basic ethics."
"You're overstepping, Mr. Demon."
I leaned in. "And you're underestimating me. We both know you're doing this as a favor to Samantha."
He didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
I turned on my heel and walked out.
Sometimes being a Demon came in handy.
---
💦LILLY POV💦
An hour later, my phone buzzed.
> From: Professor Torres
"Update. Hearing scheduled. Tomorrow morning. You get to speak."
I let the text sink in, staring at the screen in disbelief.
Someone had stopped the letter from going through.
Someone had pushed back.
And I had a feeling I knew who.
But before I could process it, a second text came through.
> Unknown Number:
"You made it through Round One. Let's see if you survive what's next."