A bad revelation

Natalie's pov

The folder sat on my dresser in the room that still felt too strange to be mine.

I was at the edge of my bed, staring at it, and then at the message on my phone.

‘If you value your scholarship, stop reading that file.’

I knew exactly who it was from.

It must be one of Kian's stupid pranks again.

“He must think I'm a fool. If he believes this stupid text would scare me away, then he is mistaken.” I scoffed softly.

Opening the folder, my eyes scanned through that strange page.

I studied the shipment record, trying to make sense of the figures and what it meant.

Nothing changed.

The numbers remained numbers.

The shipment codes remained just that - shipment codes.

And the strange note scribbled at the bottom remained just as confusing as it had been an hour ago.

I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was overthinking it.

Maybe it really was just some misplaced company document.

Yet, I couldn't shake away the nervous knot that seemed to not want to leave my chest.

My mind remembered Kian's face, his worried glances as he sat in the Dean's office, his insistence to take the folder from me.

“Ugh, leave my mind, you asshole!” I groaned, falling back on the bed.

Frustrated, I shoved the paper back into the folder.

Just then, a sharp knock sounded from the other side of my door.

I knew exactly who that was.

“Go away!”

The door opened instead.

I sighed as I saw Kian walk through, his eyes roaming the length and breadth of the room, judging or appraising, I couldn't be so sure.

“Are you hard of hearing? Or are you just slow?” I asked, my brows furrowing involuntarily, “what part of go away was too hard to understand?”

“The part where I care,” he drawled, taking quick steps till he was at the front of my drawers.

He dropped a thick binder onto my desk.

The thing landed with enough force to shake my laptop.

“And what is that?” I asked, squinting my eyes at him.

“Our project material.”

“We already have our folders from which we can research from,” I countered, pushing the binder with my index finger.

“Those are public files, Mayers. It would be stupid to make high scoring research based on information obtained from Wikipedia.” He shook his head at me, like I was stupid.

I narrowed my eyes.

“The Dean -” I started before he pulled out the desk chair, making a screeching sound against the floor.

"It means the Dean sent us the kindergarten version,” he interrupted, pulling the chair further before sinking down on it like he owned the place.

Technically he did.

“Kian?” I began, taking in steadying breath.

“What?”

“Get out.” I said very decisively.

“And if I say no?” He replied casually, his eyes glinting with the challenge.

I stared at him, watching him stare back at me.

Neither of us moved, the silence stretched.

Then he sighed dramatically.

“Look, princess. We need an A.”

“We??” I asked, my eyebrows raised.

“We are a team, are we not?” The nonchalance in his voice irritated me to no end.

“I do not remember agreeing to that, Kian. You tried to frame me as a drug peddler! Have you forgotten or you're just trying to piss me off?” I bristled, my voice came out sharper than I intended it.

His eyebrows rose in amusement, a grin splitting his face.

“You must admit, that was a good plot.”

“Get out!”

“Listen to me, Mayers,” his voice suddenly hardened, losing that casual strain to it.

“You are a scholarship student, and you need this project more than I do.”

I immediately hated where this conversation was going

“You need an A, and I ,” he continued, pointing toward himself, “want to pass at least, to go for business school next year!”

Then he pointed between us.

"So unfortunately, we need an A."

The logic was irritating, mostly because it made sense.

It felt unnatural, agreeing with him.

“Fine. But we work as a team… with minimal interactions.”

His grin appeared.

I immediately regretted everything.

Two hours later, I regretted it even more.

“Your handwriting is disgusting,” I commented. He was writing on a paper as we made plans on how to do the project.

“It builds character.” He murmured absentmindedly.

“It looks like a spider died on the page.”

He gasped, and pushed his hair back with his hand.

“It is called cursive, Mayers.”

“It's ugly…” I answered quietly, still watching him write whatever it was he was writing.

Laughter erupted from him, surprisingly.

The sound caught me off guard.

Because it wasn't mocking, or mean, or even the insulting kind.

It sounded… normal.

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable and just then, his phone rang.

The moment the screen lit up, his laughter died.

There was a sudden change in his expression, and a shift in the atmosphere.

The relaxed version I saw moments ago vanished, leaving just this coldness.

He stood abruptly.

“I'll be back.”

I watched him leave, flinging the doors open and not bothering to close it after him.

It did not take too long for curiosity to immediately begin clawing at my brain.

The hallway outside was quiet but I could hear his voice faintly.

Not enough to fully understand everything he was saying, but just enough to know he was talking.

I should have stayed where I was.

Instead, I drifted toward the doorway, just a little. Enough to convince myself that I wasn't going to eavesdrop.

His back was turned to me, he stood close to the staircase.

One hand shoved into his pocket.

The other gripped his phone.

“...I know.” He said, his voice sounded strained.

A pause.

Then he spoke again.

“Because that's what he does.”

Silence, then he laughed. Not the laughter he did just minutes ago. This one was cold.

“No. I don't care about that.”

My brows furrowed. My heart thumped in my chest.

Care about what?

Another pause.

Then Kian sighed, a long, frustrated sound. "It's not a marriage.”

Something inside me tightened. I knew exactly what he was talking about then.

My feet rooted themselves to the floor, my breath coming out in shallow pants.

“The sham marriage between dad and that whore of a woman, was planned.”

I put my hand to my mouth, covering the gasp that almost escaped.

Kian continued, this time, his voice seemed different.

Firm, like he just figured out something and he was certain of it.

“Yes. It's just that. A business deal…. A merger.”