Chapter 2

I almost laughed. The post had been up for barely 40 minutes, and the faculty was already trying to get me to withdraw.

They certainly knew how to handle a problem quickly. Too bad they thought I was the problem.

"I'm not signing this." I slid the form back across the desk.

"Nate, don't do anything rash," Bruce warned.

"I'm not," I replied calmly.

"Do you have any idea how badly this could affect the faculty if the situation escalates?" Bruce asked, his brows furrowing.

"I didn't spread the rumor, and I didn't cause any of this," I shot back.

Bruce's expression hardened. "We have to consider how this will reflect on the university."

"So, to protect the university's reputation, I'm supposed to admit I didn't earn my spot and give it up?" I asked.

"That's not what I'm saying," Bruce replied, his expression growing uneasy.

"Then why did you already have the withdrawal form ready?" I pressed, holding his gaze.

The office fell silent.

Outside, students chatted in the hallway, their footsteps clicking against the tiled floor.

After a few seconds, Bruce tucked the form back into his desk drawer. "Then you need to prove that the woman in the video really is your family's chauffeur."

"Fine," I replied curtly.

"And in the meantime, stay off social media, and don't let her pick you up on campus," Bruce added, giving me a pointed look.

I got to my feet. "Until the investigation is over, please don't prepare any more withdrawal forms for me."

As soon as I left the office, I called Donna Page, who answered almost immediately.

"I'm waiting for you at our usual spot, Mr. Durham."

"Donna, don't drive onto campus just yet, " I said in a low voice.

"What's going on?" she asked, sounding concerned.

I briefly explained what had happened.

Donna was quiet for a long moment. "I'll come to the school and explain everything," she insisted.

"No, it's fine," I told her. "They're doing this to get at me, and I'll deal with it myself."

Donna fell silent again.

"Just go home for now. I'll take a cab," I said.

She still sounded reluctant to leave it alone. "Should I tell Mr. Durham Sr.?"

"Dad's in the middle of acquisition talks. I'll tell him once he lands."

He was in Grendia for the next few days, and once his team entered the negotiation room, they had to surrender their phones and other communication devices.

It wasn't worth interrupting the negotiations.

Mom was even harder to reach. Her research project was undergoing a confidential review, and she'd turned off her phone.

"In that case, I'll retrieve the footage from the dashcam," Donna offered.

After I hung up, my phone buzzed again.

The official student council account had shared an article.

The article didn't name me directly. Instead, it criticized the growing role of privilege and connections in university selection.

The person who'd shared it was Mark. He even added his own caption. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to get ahead, but not at the expense of people who actually work for it."

Within minutes, people flooded the comments with messages supporting him.

It was no secret among the finance students that Mark and I were competing for the exchange program.

He'd done well last semester, but my GPA was higher.

The committee evaluated candidates based on GPA, research experience, and their final presentations. Mark was slightly behind me across the board.

But as the post gained traction, he could now portray himself as the underdog, a hardworking student whose chances had been stolen by someone with powerful connections.

The story practically wrote itself.

A hardworking, handsome campus heartthrob, robbed of his chance by a scheming rival whose sugar mama pulled the strings.

It made for a much more compelling story than an academic tran ever could.