LOGINSUMMER'S POVThe Dean’s office smelled like old paper and disappointment. I sat between George and Kingsley, my body still aching from the beating, bruises carefully covered with makeup and long sleeves. Every breath reminded me how fragile this second chance was.“You will be placed on probation,” Dean Finerty said coldly, tapping the folder in front of him. “Strict probation. One more incident and your scholarship will be revoked. The evidence your friends provided, helped prove the video was manipulated, but your behavior remains concerning, Miss Walker.”George leaned forward, voice steady but firm. “Sir, she was targeted. We have the packet traces. This wasn’t random.”Kingsley’s hand brushed mine under the table—silent support that made my chest tighten. “She deserves to finish the semester. The showcase matters for her scholarship.”After what felt like hours of tense back-and-forth, the Dean finally relented. “Fine. But any more drama, and it’s over.”---Campus was a battlefi
CLYDE'S POVThe streetlights flickered like they were running out of battery. I walked beside Gabrielle, our steps slow after the long group study session. Her house was just two blocks away, but I always made sure she got home safe. She’d saved my life during that asthma attack. The least I could do was walk her back.“You sure you’re okay?” Gabrielle asked, glancing at me sideways. “You’ve been quiet since we left the library.”I forced a smile, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets. “Yeah. Just thinking about the project. And… other stuff.”The truth was, I’d been on edge for days. Summer hadn’t come home. George said she was “staying with a friend,” but his voice had that tight edge it gets when he’s lying to protect me. My sister was hiding something big. She always did. After our parents died, she became this unbreakable wall between me and the world. But walls crack eventually.A shadow moved behind us. I caught it in the corner of my eye—someone keeping pace, staying just fa
SUMMER'S POV. I woke up to the familiar scent of George’s apartment—clean laundry, faint coffee, and safety. My body felt like it had been run over by a truck. Every breath pulled at the bruises along my ribs, and my face throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I tried to sit up on the couch and immediately regretted it, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth. “Easy,” a deep voice said from across the room. It was Kingsley. He sat in the armchair, elbows on his knees, watching me with an intensity that made my stomach twist. His eyes were shadowed, jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t slept. “How did I get here?” I whispered, voice hoarse. “I found you collapsing in the club hallway, after our discussion.” he said quietly. “ So I brought you to George's house.” Before I could respond, George stormed in from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. The moment his eyes landed on my face— the swollen eye, split lip, the bruises peeking from my collar—he froze. Then fury took ov
SUMMER'S POVThe club’s neon sign buzzed like an angry wasp above the staff entrance. Every step toward it sent fresh fire through my ribs and down my swollen leg. I limped badly, favoring my right side, the bruises from the beating pulsing with my heartbeat. My hoodie hid most of the damage, but nothing could mask the way I moved—like a broken doll held together by sheer stubbornness.Mr. Noel was waiting just inside, arms crossed, face carved from stone. There was no greeting nor sympathy at all. His eyes flicked over me once. It was cold and calculating, like one who sees everything as an instrument of money.“You’re late,” he said flatly. “And you look like shit. Clean yourself up. There’s a private meeting in VIP Room 7. Mr. Robert’s orders. Don’t keep him waiting.”I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “I’m not in any condition to—”“Condition?” He stepped closer, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You signed the contract, Dark Bird. You don’t get to have conditions an
SUMMER'S POVPain greeted me before consciousness fully returned.Every breath felt like knives twisting between my ribs. My face throbbed where the bruises had bloomed overnight. I cracked open my good eye and stared at Amanda’s cracked ceiling, the faint glow of a streetlight bleeding through the thin curtains. Her small apartment smelled like instant noodles and cheap lavender air freshener—familiar and safe. For a moment, I wished I could just stay here, buried under the blanket she’d tucked around me.“Summer?” Amanda’s voice was soft but alert. She sat on the edge of the couch, a damp cloth in her hand. “You’ve been out for a while. I changed the bandages twice. You look like hell, girl.”I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. A sharp gasp escaped me. “What time is it?”“Almost nine. You were supposed to rest.” She pressed the cloth gently against my swollen cheek. Her touch was careful, but her eyes were stormy. “I thought about calling George. Or that Kingsley guy. Yo
SUMMER'S POVThe walk back to the apartment felt like trudging through quicksand. Every step echoed with the Dean’s cold words. My phone stayed silent after that last menacing text, but its ghost lingered like a blade at my throat: Come to the club tonight, alone. As if I had any choice.I pushed open the creaky door to our apartment. The silence hit harder than usual. Clyde was still at George’s—thank God. I didn’t want him seeing me like this: eyes swollen from unshed tears, hoodie reeking of club smoke and failure. I locked the door, slid the chain into place, and collapsed onto the worn couch.Just a few minutes. That’s all I needed. I closed my eyes, breathe, then get ready for whatever fresh hell Mr. Robert—or whoever was pulling this strings—had planned for me tonight.Sleep claimed me before I could fight it.---A sharp knock shattered the darkness.I jolted upright, heart slamming against my ribs. The room was dim, the evening light filtering weakly through the curtains. My
KINGSLEY'S POVThe bass from the speakers vibrated through the bar like a second heartbeat I didn’t want. Felix had practically dragged me here, claiming I needed to “stop brooding like a damn statue” after the disaster at school. The slap still burned on my cheek hours later,, stinging so badly, b
SUMMER'S POVThe silence in the small music studio felt heavy, thick, and suffocating. I was completely frozen, my eyes glued to the illuminated glass of my phone screen as the anonymous threat stared back at me. The picture of Kingsley and me hugging outside Saint Peter's Hospital felt like a noos
SUMMER'S POV The rest of the week went by in a jagged, exhausting blur. Kingsley and I hadn't spoken a single word since our brutal clash in the dark alleyway behind the club. The echoing venom of the harsh words I’d hurled at him—calling him a clueless burden—haunted me every time I closed my e
SUMMER'S POV "Well, Dark Bird," Mr. Noel’s voice cut through the quiet, sounding entirely hollow, stripped of the booming authority he usually threw around the club. He still wasn't looking at me, his eyes fixed on some arbitrary spot on his desk. "You heard him. You can resume work by the next ni







