Checkmate

Liora’s POV

Every single shadow on campus looked exactly like a billionaire with a god complex. I flinched violently when a squirrel dropped a small acorn onto a trash can and leaped backward into a row of hedges when a cyclist zipped past me on the narrow sidewalk.

My heart was constantly pounding and my eyes darting into every alcove, every hallway and every dark corner of the university as I kept expecting Declan Kensington to step out of the morning fog and shatter my jaw.

The violence from last night played on a loop continuously inside my head. I knew the Kensingtons were bad news. Everyone at Kingsborough University knew that. I just thought they were spoiled, arrogant rich kids who threw wild parties and broke hearts for fun but I genuinely didn’t think they dragged people into back alleys and snapped their bones for sport.

By the time I reached my morning chemistry class, my nerves were completely fried. Professor Higgins who treated an introductory science course like a military bootcamp, stood at the front of the lecture hall and openly tore me a new one.

“Miss Sinclair, arriving to my class without your textbook is exactly like a soldier arriving to a battlefield without a rifle,” he droned loudly, pointing a piece of chalk at my empty desk. “It is entirely unacceptable.”

I just stared at him blankly. Honestly I couldn’t care less about advanced molecular structures today. “My apologies, Professor,” I muttered dryly, not feeling sorry in the slightest. “It won’t happen again.”

My brain was completely consumed by the absence of my worn faux-leather notebook.. my diary. The very thought of that book sitting out there in the world made my stomach violently churn.

It wasn’t just a journal filled with daily complaints.. it was a highly explicit and intensely mortifying record of every filthy and embarrassing fantasy I had ever concocted about Elijah Brooks.. the golden boy.. the guy who didn’t even know I existed. If anyone actually read those pages, I wouldn’t just be humiliated. I would literally have to change my name, fake my own death and move to a remote island where Wi-Fi didn’t exist.

A few hours later, I retreated to the deepest and dustiest corner of the campus library. It was the only place I felt safe. I had my head buried behind a stack of borrowed notes, desperately trying to salvage my study schedule when the temperature in the room seemingly dropped ten degrees and a massive shadow fell across my desk.. then another.. and another.

I froze instantly as the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up while my throat closed. I slowly lifted my head and my heart completely flatlined in my chest.

Jasper, Declan and Silas Kensington formed a wall around my desk. Jasper stood tall and broad, radiating an intense authority, Declan leaned against the bookshelf, wearing a knowing smirk that promised chaos and Silas was like a statue, his icy silver eyes completely dead and calculating as he stared down at me.

“Mrs. Gable,” Jasper said, his deep voice filling up the quiet room. He didn’t even look away from me.

The elderly librarian took one look at the three brothers then dropped her entire cart of reference books, turned on her sensible heels and scurried out of the aisle, abandoning me without a second thought. Everyone feared the Kensingtons.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath as I pushed my chair back.

I tried to stand up, looking desperately for a gap between their shoulders but Declan instantly slammed his hand flat onto my desk and leaned in close, trapping me in the chair.

“Going somewhere, spy?” Declan purred, his gray eyes dancing with malicious amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied smoothly. I forced my face into a mask of total boredom, channeling every ounce of grit I possessed. “Look, I have actual studying to do. If you three want to stand around looking like a brooding boyband, go do it in the fiction aisle. I’m busy.”

Declan laughed out loud. “Oh, she has teeth. I like that. I really like that.”

“We know you were hiding in the alley last night, Liora,” Jasper said, his voice a low, commanding rumble that left absolutely zero room for argument. “We also know you run incredibly fast for someone wearing cheap boots.”

Silas finally moved. He didn’t say a single word. He just reached gracefully into the deep pocket of his sleek black trench coat and tossed something heavy onto the center of my desk. My muddy, water-damaged backpack.

“Take it,” Silas said coldly.

I snatched the bag instantly. My hands trembled slightly despite my best efforts to look tough and unaffected. I yanked the rusted zipper open and dug through the contents. My textbooks were there. My cracked calculator. My pens. But the secret side pocket was completely empty.

“Looking for this?” Declan asked cheerfully. He reached into his back pocket and slowly pulled out my little faux-leather diary. He waved it in the air like a victorious flag. “I’ve gotta say, Liora, you are a whole lot more interesting than you look. Who knew the quiet little library mouse was harboring such intense, aggressive desires for the campus golden boy?”

All the blood drained completely from my face. My lungs stopped working.

Declan opened the book to a dog-eared page and cleared his throat. “‘I want him to absolutely ruin me,’” he read aloud, his voice dripping with dark sarcasm. “‘I want his hands bruising my thighs…’”

“Shut up!” I hissed, my voice cracking in a pathetic betrayal of my overwhelming panic. I lunged forward across the desk to grab the book, but Declan effortlessly snatched it out of my reach, laughing as I fell back into my chair. “Give that back. That is my private property.”

“Not a chance,” Jasper said smoothly, leaning his massive hands on the edge of my desk to box me in completely. “We have a massive problem, Liora. And you are going to fix it.”

“I’m not fixing your damn problems,” I snapped, glaring furiously up at his piercing blue eyes. “Give me the book, or I’m calling campus security.”

“Our father is actively threatening to liquidate our trust funds and force our expulsion if we do not achieve perfect grades this semester,” Jasper continued, completely ignoring my empty threats. “We are currently failing. We need a tutor. An exclusive, full-time tutor who will ensure we pass every single exam. And you have a perfect 4.0 GPA.”

“Then hire someone,” I shot back angrily, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my shaking hands.

“You’re billionaires. Pay a grad student.”

“We don’t want a grad student,” Silas said, his icy gaze pinning me firmly to the chair. “We want you. You are going to tutor us every single night until the semester ends.”

“And if I refuse?” I asked, raising my chin defiantly.

“Are you going to drag me into an alley and beat me up, too?”

Declan grinned widely, tapping the spine of my diary against his palm. “No, sweetheart. If you refuse, I am going to take this dirty little book, march directly down to the campus radio station and read every single filthy page over the intercom. Then, I’ll make hundreds of copies and paste them to every locker in the science wing. Elijah Brooks will know exactly what you want him to do to you.”

A massive wave of sheer, unadulterated panic crashed heavily over me. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. But looking into their cold, ruthless eyes, I knew with absolute certainty that they would. They didn’t care about my life. They didn’t care about my reputation. I was just convenient collateral damage to them.

“You have until the end of the day to make your decision,” Jasper said smoothly, straightening his expensive suit jacket. He looked down at me like I was already defeated. “Meet us at the front gates at five o’clock. Do not be late.”

They turned in unison and walked away, moving with that effortless, arrogant grace that only came from having far too much money and zero real consequences.

I sat alone in the library for a long time, staring blindly at my muddy backpack. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely zip the bag shut. Blackmail. They were actively blackmailing me over a stupid, embarrassing journal.

“Screw that,” I whispered fiercely into the empty room.

I wasn’t some helpless, tragic victim. I wasn’t going to just roll over and let three over-privileged psychopaths hold my entire life hostage. There were rules here. There was an administration. There were people in charge who didn’t care how rich Arthur Kensington was.

I threw my heavy backpack over my shoulder and marched straight out of the library. I walked briskly across the manicured green lawns, my jaw set hard and my fists clenched tightly at my sides. I headed straight for the main administration building. Dean Harrison Van Dyk’s office was on the third floor. He was supposed to be the absolute moral compass of this entire university.

He would handle this. He had to handle this. Extortion was a federal crime.

The Dean’s secretary didn’t even ask for my name when I stormed right into the plush, mahogany-paneled reception area.

“Go right in, Miss Sinclair,” the secretary said smoothly, offering me a tight, somewhat pitying look.

I paused with my hand resting heavily on the heavy brass doorknob. How did she know I was coming? I pushed the thought aside and shoved the heavy oak door open.

Dean Van Dyk was sitting perfectly straight behind his massive desk, nervously adjusting his expensive wire-rimmed glasses. He looked up as I entered, offering a distinctly uncomfortable, forced smile. The office smelled like expensive cologne and old money.

“Liora,” the Dean said smoothly, gesturing vaguely toward a plush leather chair opposite his desk. “Please, sit down. I have actually been meaning to send for you all morning.”

I frowned deeply, walking slowly toward the desk. My defensive shields instantly locked into place. Something was wrong. The energy in the room was completely off.

“You were looking for me?” I asked, remaining standing. “Why? Look, Dean Van Dyk, I actually came here because I need to report a serious, highly illegal incident regarding the Kensington brothers…”

“Let me stop you right there, Liora,” the Dean interrupted sharply, raising a manicured hand. He absolutely refused to meet my eyes, suddenly finding a stack of paperwork on his desk incredibly fascinating. He cleared his throat nervously. “I’m afraid we have a much more pressing matter to discuss regarding your academic standing.”

My stomach dropped straight into my boots. “My academic standing? I have a perfect 4.0. I haven’t missed a single class all year.”

“It isn’t about your grades,” he said, his voice entirely too polished, entirely too rehearsed. “It’s about the university funding. The disciplinary board held an emergency review early this morning. I am truly sorry to be the one to tell you this, Liora, but effective immediately, your academic scholarship has been completely revoked.”

The air rushed violently out of my lungs. I gripped the wooden armrests of the empty chair just to keep myself upright.

“What?” I gasped, the room suddenly tilting around me. “That’s impossible. You can’t do that. I signed a four-year contract.”

“There was a hidden clause regarding moral standing and university budget allocations,” the Dean lied effortlessly, finally looking at me with cold, entirely empty eyes. “Furthermore, since you are no longer classified as a scholarship student, you no longer qualify for subsidized campus housing. You have exactly four hours to vacate your dorm room…”