Chapter 2

The silence in the old archives room was heavy enough to breathe. Located in the basement of the university’s oldest building, the room smelled of dust, leather, and decaying paper.

Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long, erratic shadows across rows of floor-to-ceiling metal bookshelves.

Khalia slammed a thick, leather-bound volume of past university case studies onto the wooden table. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the cramped space.

"I’m only going to say this once, Clemente," Khalia said, not bother to look up as she opened her laptop.

"I need this thesis to secure my graduate scholarship. You need it so your parents don't cut off your trust fund. We don't have to like each other, but you will pull your weight."

Atasha stood near the heavy oak door, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

She looked entirely out of place among the dusty relics, a designer bag slung carelessly over her shoulder.

She scoffed, taking a slow, deliberate step toward the table.

"Don't lecture me on motivation, Salvador," Atasha sneered, her heels clicking sharply against the cold concrete floor.

"You think you're the only one with something to lose? If my name isn't on a passing thesis by the end of this semester, my father is sending me to a boarding estate in Switzerland. I am not letting a scholarship charity case ruin my life."

Khalia’s fingers paused over her keyboard. She took off her glasses, placing them carefully on top of her closed laptop.

When she stood up, the oversized grey sweater hung loosely on her frame, but her posture was rigid, radiating an unexpected aura of authority.

"Then sit down, shut up, and read the first chapter," Khalia replied, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.

Atasha’s eyes flashed with anger.

No one spoke to her like that.

No one.

She marched over to the table, slamming her manicured hands onto the wood, leaning in until she was barely inches away from Khalia's face.

"Watch your mouth," Atasha hissed, her breath warm against Khalia’s cheek.

The scent of her expensive lavender perfume instantly filled the small gap between them, warring with the musty smell of the archives.

"You think because you have the highest GPA in school, you're untouchable? Out there, you are nothing. I could have you expelled by tomorrow morning if I wanted to."

"Then do it," Khalia challenged, refusing to back down. She leaned forward too, her dark eyes locking onto Atasha’s.

"Go tell your daddy to pull some strings. But we both know he won't. He wants you to actually earn something for once in your privileged, superficial life. That's why you're stuck here. With me."

Atasha’s chest heaved with fury. The utter lack of fear in Khalia’s eyes was doing something chaotic to her brain.

Everyone else cowered.

Everyone else begged for Atasha’s approval.

But Khalia looked at her like she was nothing more than an annoying obstacle to be cleared away.

It was frustrating.

It was infuriating.

It was intoxicating.

"You think you're so smart," Atasha breathed, her gaze dropping instinctively to Khalia’s lips before snapping back up to her eyes.

Her heart was suddenly hammering against her ribs, driven by a volatile mix of pure rage and an terrifying, uninvited spike of adrenaline.

"Smart enough to know you're all bark and no bite," Khalia taunted, a mocking tilt appearing at the corner of her mouth.

The small insult tore through the last shred of Atasha’s sophisticated restraint.

Before she could think, before her rational mind could stop her, Atasha reached out, grabbed the thick collar of Khalia’s oversized sweater, and shoved her backward.

Khalia’s lower back hit the edge of the heavy wooden desk with a dull thud.

She let out a sharp gasp, her hands automatically flying up to grip Atasha’s wrists to push her away.

But Atasha didn't follow the social script.

Instead of backing off, she stepped directly into Khalia’s space, pinning her against the desk, her face so close that their noses almost touched.

The anger in the room suddenly shifted, warping into a thick, suffocating tension that made the air feel entirely too hot.