Chapter 3

Melina's POV

I stood frozen on the concrete steps, purse strap clutched tight in my hand while the sports car idled aggressively in front of me. 

My heartbeat grew loud enough that I wondered if the students nearby could hear it too. The administration building sat directly behind my back, its doors a reminder that my scholarship hung by a single fragile thread.

The board had just ordered me to stay completely invisible, yet here stood the university's most prominent athlete, creating a public spectacle right on the front curb. My stomach twisted at the sheer unfairness of it.

“I am not getting into your car, Jace,” I stated, voice firm as several nearby students slowed down to stare. “I just spent twenty minutes convincing the academic board that I am not a campus distraction.”

“Get in, Melina,” Jace repeated, tone leaving zero room for negotiation. “Unless you want to have this conversation in front of twenty people with their phones out.”

I glanced around the courtyard, noticing two girls near the fountain pulling out their devices to record us. Panic flared hot and fast under my skin. 

I let out a breath, marched down the stone steps and pulled the passenger door open. I threw myself into the leather seat and slammed the door behind me with enough force to rattle the glass, my hands trembling as I gripped my purse in my lap.

Jace did not say another word. He shifted into gear and pressed hard on the accelerator, sending the vehicle launching forward toward the main gates.

He navigated the Manhattan traffic with practiced, aggressive precision, knuckles white where his hands gripped the steering wheel. 

The silence inside the cabin was broken only by the low hum of the custom engine. I stared straight ahead, my pulse refusing to settle, every unspoken accusation pressing against the back of my teeth.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, turning to face him. “If you are trying to make things worse for my academic standing, you are doing a fantastic job.”

Jace kept his eyes locked firmly on the road ahead. “My agent called me at six o'clock this morning, Melina. Three of my primary national endorsement deals were placed on immediate suspension because of that photograph.”

“Endorsement deals?” I echoed, frowning at his profile, a fresh wave of dread pooling low in my stomach. “You are a college athlete, Jace. Why are brand deals putting you in a mood this dark?”

“Because those deals are tied directly to my family's public enterprise,” Jace answered, jaw tightening so hard a muscle flexed in his cheek. “My family controls the Hamilton Group. I keep my identity separate on campus because I want to earn my place on the ice on my own merit, but those contracts affect actual board decisions and corporate holdings.”

I stared at him in complete disbelief, processing the sheer weight of his admission, my breath catching somewhere in my throat. “You are an heir to the Hamilton Group? The global real estate and investment firm?”

“I am the sole heir,” Jace corrected coldly. “And right now, Tristan's family is using this ridiculous scandal to paint me as an unstable, reckless liability in front of our board of directors. They are trying to weaken my family's controlling shares.”

“So Tristan engineered this entire narrative,” I realized, pieces finally falling into place, a cold, sick feeling spreading through my chest as the shape of it became clear. “He knew you were at that bar. He used Chloe to push me out and then had someone track me straight to your building.”

“Precisely,” Jace stated, taking a sharp left turn into an underground private parking garage beneath an old city library. He brought the car to a sudden halt in an empty bay and cut the engine. He turned his body toward me, ice-blue eyes piercing through the dim light of the garage. “Tristan is playing a high-stakes game and he is using both of us as leverage.”

“My scholarship is on thirty days probation,” I informed him, resting my back against the leather seat, exhaustion pulling at every limb even as my mind refused to stop racing. “If my name pops up in another article or scandal, I lose my grant and get expelled from Westbridge entirely. I do not have a billionaire family enterprise to back me up, Jace. That scholarship is my only way out.”

“I am aware of what you stand to lose,” Jace replied, tone softening slightly as he studied my face. “Which is why walking away silently is no longer an option for either of us. If we lay low, Tristan wins. He controls the narrative, my board loses faith in my leadership and your board revokes your funding the moment he drops another fake leak.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” I asked, frustration rising in my throat, thick and hot. “I cannot confront him publicly without breaking my probation.”

“We change the narrative entirely,” Jace proposed, leaning closer toward the center console. “We do not deny the photograph. We redefine it.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, a wary, uncertain flutter building beneath my ribs. “Redefine it how?”

“We tell the press and the campus that we have been secretly seeing each other for weeks,” Jace explained clearly. “We turn a cheap, trashy scandal into a genuine romance. Tristan wants you to look like a bitter ex and me to look like a reckless predator. If we present a united, committed front, the media narrative shifts from a scandal to a legitimate relationship.”

I let out a dry, humorless laugh, though there was nothing funny pressing against my chest. “You want us to pretend to date? Jace, we barely know each other and you are my ex-boyfriend's worst enemy. No one is going to believe that.”

“They will believe it if we give them a show,” Jace insisted, voice steady and persuasive. “Think about it, Melina. If we enter a formal arrangement, I can use my personal media team to shield your name completely. My publicist will handle the board, protect your scholarship and clear your reputation. In return, a stable relationship cleans up my public image for my family's investors.”

“And what about Tristan?” I questioned, pulse quickening at the thought of hitting back, something dark and satisfying uncurling low in my stomach.

“Tristan's whole campaign relies on making you suffer,” Jace stated, dark, dangerous smile flickering across his lips. “Imagine his reaction when he sees the girl he betrayed standing at the arm of the man he hates most, completely untouchable.”

I sat quietly for a long moment, weighing the immense risks against the obvious benefits, my fingers twisting the strap of my purse in my lap. My scholarship was already on the verge of destruction and standing alone left me completely vulnerable to Tristan's next strike. 

Partnering with Jace was dangerous, but it was the only move that gave me real protection and a chance at real payback and the thought of that payback sent a small, fierce thrill through my chest despite everything.

“If we do this, we need strict ground rules,” I demanded, looking straight into his eyes, steadying my voice through sheer will. “I am not going to be dragged into your family's corporate drama without boundaries.”

“Name your terms,” Jace agreed instantly.

“Rule number one,” I began, counting on my fingers. “This arrangement is strictly business. We only act like a couple when the cameras or campus eyes are on us. When we are behind closed doors, we go back to being ordinary students.”

“Agreed,” Jace said without hesitation. “Rule number two: no real feelings. This contract lasts exactly sixty days, right up until the regional hockey finals. Once the sports season ends and my board stabilizes, we stage a clean, mutual breakup and walk away.”

“Rule number three,” I added, voice steady and firm. “Absolute loyalty while the contract is active. No secret meetings with exes, no side deals and no breaking character in public. We cover for each other completely.”

Jace extended his broad, calloused right hand across the center console between us. “Sixty days, Melina. We protect your scholarship, we secure my inheritance and we completely dismantle Tristan McGreggor.”

I looked at his hand, taking a deep breath to settle the remaining doubts in my mind, my pulse thudding unevenly against my throat. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his, shaking his hand with a firm, decisive grip and something settled and sharpened inside me all at once, resolve replacing the last of the morning's panic.

“We have a deal, Hamilton,” I said.

Jace pulled his phone from his inner jacket pocket and tapped the screen quickly. “Our first public appearance starts right now. Grab your coat. We are going to the campus coffee shop and we are going to give this school something real to talk about..”