Chapter 5: Shoot

Kelsey pushed forward, standing close to Scarlett now. Her eyes ran up and down Scarlett’s dress, her perfect hair, her red lips. Jealousy burned hot in her tone. “Who do you even think you are? Walking in here like you own the place?”

Scarlett finally looked at her, one slow sweep of the eyes from head to toe. “Better question,” she said smoothly. “Who do you think you are, speaking to me?”

Kelsey’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

Scarlett’s lips barely moved. “Move.”

The word cracked like a whip.

Kelsey froze. Nobody ever told her to move. Nobody. The hallway went silent. Even Ayden looked between them, amusement flickering across his face.

And with that, she walked away, leaving the whispers behind her to grow louder, the echo of her heels a promise that Emily was never coming back.

*

*

The lecture hall was loud with chatter until Scarlett walked in. The moment she entered, the air changed. Her high heels made a sharp, clear sound on the floor that made people look up. She didn’t rush. She walked like the room already belonged to her. She chose a seat right in the middle and sat down, smooth and calm.

Behind her, a nasty voice cut through the noise. It was Kelsey. She was surrounded by her friends, all of them watching her like she was the sun.

Kelsey flipped her hair, raising her voice loud enough for the room. “Money doesn’t buy taste. Some people just try too hard.”

Scarlett set her bag on a seat in the middle row and crossed her legs, smooth and calm, as though Kelsey’s existence barely registered.

That silence burned Kelsey alive.

“New girl,” Kelsey snapped, “I’m talking to you.”

Scarlett looked up slowly, her eyes cool as frost. “Oh. I thought you were talking to your mirror.”

Laughter broke out. Some covered their mouths, others didn’t bother.

Kelsey blinked, her cheeks flaming. “Excuse me?”

Scarlett leaned back, smirk lazy and sharp. “You’re excused.”

The room crackled with gasps.

“You must think you’re special,” Kelsey spat. “Acting like you own this place.”

“I don’t act,” Scarlett said evenly. “I simply do.”

A ripple of shock moved through the class. Even Ayden, lounging in the back with his friends, let out a low chuckle.

“Careful, Kelsey,” he drawled, sauntering forward. “She might just take your crown.”

“Shut up, Ayden!” Kelsey snapped, her voice cracking.

Scarlett didn’t even look at her. “Don’t worry. I don’t want her crown. Plastic doesn’t suit me.”

The laughter this time was brutal. Phones slipped out of pockets, recording.

Kelsey shoved out of her seat, fists balled. “Do you even know who I am?”

Scarlett’s gaze swept her from head to toe, unimpressed. “Do you?”

The room went silent.

Ayden grinned wider, clearly entertained. “God, I like her.”

Scarlett’s eyes cut to him like a knife. “And boys like you? I don’t like. Keep your mouth shut.”

The class erupted. Ayden just laughed harder, muttering, “Even better. She bites.”

Kelsey was trembling with rage. “You won’t last a week here. I’ll make sure of it.”

Scarlett rose to her full height, stepping closer, her voice a soft, cold whisper that carried across the hall. “Try. You’ll choke on your own effort.” she was here for revenge and she hasn't even started.

The bell rang, scattering students, but no one left without whispering. Kelsey stormed out with her entourage, heels snapping. Scarlett walked past the buzz with the same calm poise she’d entered with, her lips curved in a faint smirk.

Outside, the deep growl of an engine rolled across the courtyard. A black bike leaned against the curb, chrome glinting under the sun.

The rider pulled off his helmet, dark hair falling back, sharp jaw catching the light. The girls gasped.

“Holy hell, who is that?” “He’s…wow.”

Scarlett’s lips curved. Jaxon.

He held out a second helmet, his voice low. “Get on.”

She slid it on without hesitation, climbing onto the bike and wrapping her arms loosely around his torso.

The engine roared to life, drowning the whispers. In seconds, they were gone, leaving Ayden stiff at the doorway and Kelsey fuming in silence.

They pulled up to a steel-gray building on the city’s edge. Inside, marble floors gleamed, the air heavy with smoke and blood.

Victor stood at the center of it, tall and shadowed. In his hand was a gun. At his feet knelt a man, beaten bloody, his breath ragged.

Scarlett’s eyes flicked to the weapon, then back to Victor. She didn’t flinch. She was used to the sight now.

Victor’s gaze lingered on her, unreadable. “How was your day?”

Scarlett slipped off her jacket, tossing it onto a chair. “Entertaining.”

“Good.” His mouth curved faintly, almost approving. He stepped forward, holding the gun out to her. The weight of it was unmistakable.

“Then amuse me more. Take it. Shoot him.”

The man whimpered, his swollen face lifted toward her. Scarlett looked down at the weapon, her fingers brushing the cold steel.

Her new life had strings—Victor’s empire pulling her forward, Jaxon’s shadow watching at her side, Ayden circling like a fire she refused to touch.

As her hand wrapped around the gun, one thought echoed in her chest:

Could she remain untouchable forever? Or would one of them slip past her armor, and force her to feel again?