LOGINPOV: Elena
The suffocating weight of Jace’s gaze followed me all the way across the crowded floor. I kept my chin down, pushing past sweaty bodies and ignoring the stray glances from people who were too drunk to care but sober enough to whisper. My heart was a frantic drumbeat against my ribs as I finally reached the heavy oak doors of the library study. I practically threw myself inside, pulling the door shut until the thudding bass of the living room was completely blocked.
The air in the library was cooler, smelling of old paper and leather. I found my laptop charger and textbook right where I had left them on the desk. Grabbing them tightly against my chest like a shield, I took a deep breath.
Why was my heart beating so fast in the first place? It's not like I cared, I'll just walk back out. Go straight up the stairs and absolutely, under no circumstances look at him.
I wrapped my fingers around the handle and pulled the door open, stepping back into the lions' den.
The party had escalated even further. The air was thicker now, hazy with smoke and the sour sting of spilled liquor. I tried to hug the walls, using the large marble pillars to block myself from view, but the crowd near the center of the living room had shifted, bottlenecking right in front of the main staircase.
Jace hadn't moved from his spot by the grand piano, but someone had arrived next to him.
Camille Hayes. I knew because she was a popular young model here in LA, it was also said she went to Halden.
Even in the middle of a chaotic college rager, Camille looked like she belonged on a runway. She was wearing a beautiful designer black dress that practically screamed old money, her blonde hair falling in perfect, glossy waves around her shoulders. From what I could hear from the crowd's whispers, she had been dating Jace for over a year, a relationship that the campus bloggers treated like a royal marriage.
But right now, her flawless face was twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
I tried to slide past them, my boots pressing quietly against the hardwood, but the sudden drop in the room's volume stopped me.
"Are you seriously going to play dumb right now, Jace?" Camille’s sharp voice cut through the noise, vibrating with a venomous intensity.
Jace stood his ground, his large frame towering over her. He swirled the liquid in his red cup, his expression a mask of bored, lazy arrogance, though the tight muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed him. "Camille, don't do this here. You're making a scene."
"Oh, I'm making a scene?" She laughed, a high, bitter sound that had several more heads turning. She pulled out her phone, aggressively thrusting the bright screen directly in front of his face. "Then explain this. Explain why three different girls from the Alpha Phi house have texts from your private burner number. Explain why the athletic board is suddenly getting anonymous tips about property damage at the downtown hotel last weekend!"
My breath hitched. The room seemed to grow even tighter. At Halden University, the athletic scholarships weren't just about talent; they came with a ruthless, ironclad morality clause. If a player was caught in a toxic cheating scandal, or worse, linked to reckless behavior and destroyed property, the athletic department would drop them before the media could even catch wind of it.
Jace’s lazy posture vanished in an instant. His gray eyes darkened, turning dangerous as he snatched the phone from her hand, his knuckles turning stark white under the glaring party lights. "I told you, that wasn't me. Someone is fabricating this shit to tank my season."
"Save it," Camille spat, her voice dripping with absolute disgust. She stepped closer, her perfectly manicured finger digging sharply into his chest. "I am not going to sit around and let your reckless, unstable baggage ruin my family's reputation. My father is one of the biggest donors to this university, Jace. If I tell him you're a liability, you're done."
Jace didn't back down. He leaned in, his alpha jock pride flaring as his chest rose and fell with ragged breathing. "You think you own my career, Camille? Try me."
"I don't need to try you. I'm finishing you," she whispered loudly enough for the entire inner circle to hear. She looked around the room, her eyes sweeping over his quiet, frozen teammates before landing squarely on him one last time. "We're done, Jace. And by Monday morning, the athletic board is going to see every single screenshot I have. Enjoy the captain's title while you still have it."
She turned on her heel, her designer dress sweeping as she marched toward the front doors, shoving past two freshmen who didn't move out of her way fast enough. The heavy front doors slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the silent foyer.
The music kept playing, but a heavy, awkward suffocating tension settled over the room. Jace stood completely frozen by the piano, his face darkened with terrifying rage. His pride had just been utterly shattered in his own home, in front of the very people who worshiped him.
Nobody dared to speak to him, neither did anyone dare to even look at him.
Except for me.
I was still trying to sneak to the staircase, my laptop charger gripped so tightly against my chest that the plastic prongs were practically digging into my skin.
As if sensing my presence through the dead silence of his anger, Jace's head snapped up. His gray eyes, wild and burning with a dangerous, unchecked fury, locked directly onto mine.
His gaze pinned me to the spot, making every instinct in my body instantly scream at me to run.
POV: ElenaThe drive home was unusually quiet. Normally, one of us would have found something to argue about before we reached the main road. Jace would complain about a reckless driver. I'd tell him he drove too fast. He'd deny it. I'd roll my eyes, and somehow we'd end up laughing by the time we pulled into the estate.Today, neither of us seemed interested in filling the silence.My mind kept drifting back to Ryan and the envelope. I had told myself not to jump to conclusions anymore. The anonymous text had proved how easy it was to look in the wrong direction. Still, I couldn't ignore what I'd seen."You're thinking again," Jace said, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "I didn't realize it was that obvious." "It becomes obvious when you keep staring out the window." I hesitated. "I saw something after practice." His expression sharpened immediately."What?""Ryan." He sighed quietly."Elena...""I know what you're going to say." "Do you?" "Coach told you
POV: ElenaBy Thursday afternoon, the basketball team no longer looked like a team.From my seat high in the bleachers, I watched practice unfold with the uneasy feeling that something fundamental had changed. The drills were the same. Coach Mercer's whistle still echoed through the arena every few minutes, and the players still moved with the speed and precision that had made them one of the best programmes in the conference.But the atmosphere was different. There were fewer laughs between drills. Conversations ended the moment someone else approached. Players who had once slapped each other on the back after a successful play now simply nodded and jogged to the next position. Coach noticed it too.He let the team finish a defensive rotation before blowing his whistle so sharply that everyone froze."Centre court. Now." The players gathered around him, breathing heavily. Coach folded his arms, his expression harder than usual. "I'm only going to say this once. " The gym fell silent.
POV: ElenaThe anonymous message stayed with me long after I locked my phone.YOU'RE LOOKING AT THE WRONG PLAYER. Five words. They should have been easy to ignore. Anyone could have sent them. It could have been another attempt to frighten me, another game played by the person who had left the bridal veil on our doorstep and lured me to the greenhouse. Yet something about the message felt different. It didn't threaten me. It corrected me. I had barely slept because of it.The next morning, I sat near the window in my physiology lecture, my notebook open but my attention drifting elsewhere. Dr. Hassan was explaining the regulation of blood pressure, his voice carrying evenly through the classroom, but the words blurred together. Instead, I found myself scrolling through the anonymous campus gossip account. Every post. Every comment. Every timestamp. I worked backward, ignoring the insults aimed at me and focusing on the posts about the basketball team. One mentioned a closed-door stra
POV: ElenaBy the time the office door finally opened, I had reread the same paragraph in my physiology textbook at least four times without absorbing a single sentence.I looked up as Coach Mercer stepped out first. His expression was unreadable. Jace followed a moment later, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. The confidence he usually carried after practice was still there, but something about him seemed quieter. More thoughtful.Coach caught sight of me waiting in the bleachers. "I hope we didn't keep you too long, Miss Hart." "Not at all, Coach." He nodded politely before turning back to Jace. "Remember what I said." "I will."Coach held his gaze for another second before walking away. I watched him disappear into his office again.As Jace climbed the bleachers toward me, I searched his face for some clue about what had happened. "What was that about?" He picked up my backpack before I could. "Let's head to the car." "Jace." "I'll tell you." It wasn't a refusal. It was a delay. I
POV:ElenaThe smell of polished hardwood and sweat had become strangely familiar.Only a week ago, I would have avoided the athletics complex unless I absolutely had to be there. Now I found myself climbing the same concrete steps to the bleachers almost every other afternoon, balancing my backpack on one shoulder and a stack of physiology notes in my arms.I blamed Jace. More specifically, I blamed the promise he'd made to drive me home after practice. It was easier to wait at the arena than make the trip back to the Calloway estate on my own. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.Practice had already started by the time I slipped inside. Coach Mercer's whistle echoed through the gym as players ran through defensive drills with relentless precision. He stalked the sidelines with his arms folded, barking corrections whenever someone missed a rotation or hesitated for even a second."No shortcuts!" he shouted. "Championship teams don't survive on talent alone. The players imm
POV: ElenaBy the time Jace emerged from the locker room, the arena had almost emptied.Most of the players had already left, laughing as though they hadn't spent the last two hours pushing themselves to their limits. Jace walked towards me with his gym bag slung over one shoulder, and if I hadn't watched the entire practice, I might have believed nothing had happened."Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, offering me a tired smile. "I had a textbook with me." "Did you actually study?" "Not as much as I intended." He laughed softly and reached for the keys in his pocket. "Come on. I'll take you home."The walk to the parking lot was short, but it was long enough for me to notice what he was trying so hard to hide. Whenever he thought I wasn't looking, he shifted his weight to his left leg. His stride was almost normal, but there was the slightest hesitation every time his right foot touched the ground. He was limping. Not dramatically. Just enough to tell me his ankle hurt far more th
POV: ElenaThe blast of thick, humid air hit me the second I stepped off the jet bridge, but it wasn't nearly as suffocating as the voice vibrating against my eardrum."Elena? Are you off yet? Tell me you’re off the plane," my mother’s voice rushed through the line, accompanied by the distinct, cli
POV: ElenaBy Wednesday afternoon, I had successfully avoided Jace for almost two days.It wasn't simple. Living under the same roof made avoidance nearly impossible, but I had managed it by leaving for class early, staying on campus late, and taking advantage of the fact that basketball seemed to
POV: ElenaAlmost instantly, the heavy, dark atmosphere Jace radiated began driving his guests toward the exits. Nobody wanted to be in the firing line of Halden University’s golden boy when he looked like he was about to rip a door off its hinges. Whispering crowds flooded, scrambling to grab thei
POV: ElenaBy eleven o'clock the next night, my bedroom felt less like a sanctuary and more like a vibrating cage.Thud. Thud. Thud.The heavy, aggressive bass from the sound system downstairs rattled the vintage glass panes of my private balcony. It had been going on for hours. What had started as







