003 - The Dangerous Offer

Scarlett's POV

The day dragged.

Every hallway brought whispers. Every classroom brought stares. Cheater. Fraud. Scholarship girl finally got caught.

I kept my head down. Made it to last period. Almost free.

Almost.

The final bell rang. I grabbed my bag and headed for the exit. Home. Bed. Oblivion.

I turned the corner toward the parking lot.

And stopped.

Ronan Whitmore leaned against the wall by the side door. Alone. Arms crossed. Waiting.

For me.

I looked around. Empty hallway. No teachers. No students. Just him.

"No." I kept walking. "Whatever you want, no."

"Scarlett."

His voice stopped me. Something in it I hadn't heard before. Not demanding. Not dangerous.

Almost human.

I turned. "What?"

He pushed off the wall. Moved closer. Stopped a few feet away.

"I know about the cheating report."

My blood went cold.

"Everyone knows. News travels fast when a scholarship kid falls."

"I know more." His eyes held mine. "I know it's a lie. I know you didn't cheat. And I know whoever filed it did it to hurt you."

I stared at him.

"How do you know all that?"

"Because I pay attention." He stepped closer. "I've been paying attention to you for three years, Scarlett. I know how you work. You don't cheat. You barely breathe near a test without stressing for weeks."

The words hit somewhere unexpected.

"You don't know me."

"I know enough." Another step. Close now. Too close. "I know your mom is sick. I know you're behind on bills. I know you're one missed payment away from losing everything."

My hands curled into fists.

"Have you been investigating me?"

"I've been watching you." His voice dropped. "There's a difference."

"Not from where I'm standing."

He almost smiled. Almost.

"I can help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do." No cruelty in his voice. Just fact. "Your scholarship is suspended. Your future is on the line. And whoever did this isn't going to stop."

I hated that he was right.

"Why would you help me?"

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he moved to the door, pushed it open, gestured outside.

"Walk with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"It's a parking lot. Full of people. Cameras. Safety in numbers." He waited. "Five minutes. Then decide."

I should walk away. I should run.

Instead, I followed.

We walked along the edge of the parking lot. Students milled around luxury cars, laughing, oblivious. No one paid us attention.

Ronan kept his voice low.

"I need something from you."

"Of course you do."

"Three months." He glanced at me. "I need a girlfriend. Fake girlfriend."

I stopped walking.

"You're insane."

"Probably." He kept going. I had to catch up. "Public dates. Convincing photos. Act like you can't keep your hands off me in front of cameras."

"For three months."

"Yes."

"Why?"

He was quiet. Students passed. A car honked. Normal life happening around us while he asked the impossible.

"Because I need someone people will believe." His voice went quieter. "Someone who doesn't want my money. Someone who isn't playing a game. Someone real."

"And you think I'm real?"

"I know you are." He looked at me. Really looked. "You're the only person at this school who's never once pretended to like me. You avoid me. You ignore me. You'd rather die than be associated with me."

"That's not a compliment."

"It's the highest compliment you could give." Something flickered in his eyes. "Everyone wants something from me. Everyone except you."

We reached the end of the lot. Chain-link fence. Trees beyond. Private enough to talk.

"In return," he said, "your scholarship problem disappears. The investigation ends. No proof, no evidence, case closed."

"How? You can't just—"

"I can." No arrogance. Just fact. "I'm a Whitmore. My family owns half this school. Langley answers when I call."

Money. Power. The things I hated most about this place.

And right now, the only things that could save me.

"Three months," I repeated.

"Twelve weeks. Public only. Private lives stay private."

"And if I say no?"

He held my gaze. "Then you fight alone. Maybe you win. Maybe you don't. But whoever filed that report picked you for a reason. If this doesn't work, they'll try something else."

Next time.

The words echoed.

"What's in it for you? Really?"

He was quiet so long I thought he wouldn't answer.

"Someone's watching me." His voice dropped. Dangerous. "Someone close. They're waiting for me to slip. To show weakness. To give them something to use."

"And a girlfriend fixes that?"

"A real girlfriend. Someone who looks at me like I matter." He met my eyes. "Someone who makes them believe I'm not alone."

The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard.

"You want me to make you look human."

"I want you to make me look untouchable." He stepped closer. "When you're standing next to me, no one questions. No one digs. No one looks too close at the cracks."

"And after three months?"

"You walk away. Scholarship intact. Future secure." He paused. "And enough money left over that you never worry about medical bills again."

Money. He was offering money.

"I don't want your money."

"Then take the scholarship. Take the protection. Take three months of pretending and walk away with your life intact."

I thought about Mom. The bills. The cough.

I thought about Mrs. Voss's smug face. Repay all funds.

I thought about whoever filed that report, still out there, still waiting.

"One condition."

His eyes sharpened.

"I need to know who filed that report. Before this is over."

He considered this. Nodded slowly.

"Deal."

"Three months."

"Yes."

"No one finds out it's fake."

"No one."

I looked at him. Really looked. The sharp jaw. The dark eyes. The tension in his shoulders like he was waiting for me to run.

He looked almost human in this light.

Almost.

"Fine." The word scraped coming out. "I'll do it."

Something shifted in his expression. Relief? Triumph? Too fast to read.

"Good." He pulled out his phone. "First event is Friday. School fundraiser. Dress code is formal."

"I don't have anything formal."

"I'll send a car. We'll handle it."

A car. Like that was normal. Like my life hadn't just flipped upside down.

"This is insane."

"Probably." He pocketed the phone. "One more thing."

"What?"

He moved closer. Close enough that I felt the heat from his body. Close enough that I saw the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

"If we're doing this, we do it right. That means no one questions us. That means you look at me like you want to be there. That means when I touch you in public, you don't flinch."

My heart hammered.

"I don't flinch."

"Good." His hand came up. Slow. Giving me time to move. I didn't. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face. Tucked it behind my ear. "Because people will be watching. And if they see fear, they'll dig deeper."

I couldn't breathe.

"Friday." He stepped back. The warmth disappeared. "I'll text details."