CHAPTER SIX: The Restroom Ambush

I'm still in the bathroom, staring at my ruined shirt in the mirror, when Mia bursts through the door.

"Jesus, Aria." She takes one look at me and her face hardens. "Tiffany?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"That bitch." Mia digs through her bag, pulls out a cardigan. "Here. Put this on. It'll cover the worst of it."

The cardigan is soft, worn, smells like vanilla and safety. I pull it on with shaking hands, buttoning it over the coffee stain. It doesn't match the uniform, but it's better than walking around looking like I lost a fight with a vending machine.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just promise me you'll report her."

I laugh, but it comes out bitter. "Report her for what? An accident? That's what she'll call it. That's what everyone will believe."

Mia's jaw clenches. "This place is toxic. The administration won't do anything because Tiffany's father sits on the board of directors. Half the teachers are afraid of her family's connections."

"So I'm just supposed to take it."

"No." Her eyes flash. "You're supposed to survive it. Keep your head down, don't engage, and wait for her to get bored and move on to the next target."

"And if she doesn't get bored?"

Mia doesn't answer. We both know the truth. Girls like Tiffany don't get bored. They get vicious.

The bell rings for fourth period. I don't want to go. Want to hide in this bathroom until school ends, until I can disappear into that massive mansion and pretend this day never happened.

But hiding won't change anything.

"What class do you have?" Mia asks.

I check my crumpled schedule. "Chemistry. Room 214."

"I'll walk you. Come on."

We leave the bathroom together, and I feel the stares immediately. Word has spread. Of course it has. In a school like this, gossip moves faster than facts. By now, everyone knows about the parking lot photo, the cafeteria post, probably the bathroom incident too.

I'm the day's entertainment.

Chemistry is taught by a stern woman named Dr. Patterson who doesn't acknowledge my late arrival beyond a pointed look at the clock. I slide into an empty seat near the back, grateful for the temporary invisibility.

It lasts exactly twelve minutes.

A paper airplane lands on my desk. I unfold it, already knowing it's not going to be friendly.

Go back where you came from

I crumple it, shove it in my bag.

Another one arrives five minutes later.

Gold digger

Then another.

Lucian's charity project

I stop unfolding them. Let them pile up on my desk like evidence of something I can't name. Dr. Patterson either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

By the time class ends, I have seven paper airplanes and zero understanding of chemical bonds.

Fifth period is worse. Sixth is somehow even worse than that. By the time the final bell rings, I'm numb. Exhausted. Running on fumes and spite.

I'm shoving books into my locker when I feel him.

It's not logical. Not explainable. But I feel Lucian before I see him, feel that pull in my chest that's becoming familiar and terrifying.

I turn.

He's standing ten feet away, frozen mid-step, staring at me. His eyes drop to Mia's cardigan, to the coffee stain just visible at the collar. Something dark and dangerous crosses his face.

"What happened?" His voice is low, controlled. Too controlled.

"Nothing."

"Aria." He takes a step closer. Students in the hallway slow down, watching. Phones appear. "What. Happened."

"I spilled coffee on myself. It's fine."

"You're lying." Another step. "I can tell when you're lying."

"You don't know me well enough to tell anything."

"I know—" He cuts himself off, jaw clenching. His hands are fists at his sides, and I can see him fighting something. Fighting himself. "I felt it. In the cafeteria. Your panic. Your fear. I felt it like it was my own."

My breath catches. "That's not possible."

"I know." He's close now, close enough that I can smell cedar and anger. "But I felt it anyway. Now tell me what happened or I'll find out myself."

"Tiffany." The name comes out before I can stop it. "And her friends. They cornered me in the bathroom."

The temperature in the hallway drops ten degrees. Lucian's face goes blank, empty in a way that's more terrifying than anger. When he speaks, his voice is deadly quiet.

"Did they hurt you?"

"Just my pride and my uniform."

"That's not what I asked."

"No. They didn't hurt me. Just made their position very clear."

He turns on his heel, starts walking toward where Tiffany stands with her friends by the lockers. They're laughing about something, oblivious to the storm headed their way.

I grab his arm without thinking. The moment my hand touches him, electricity jolts through us both. His eyes snap to mine, and what I see there stops my breath.

Rage. Possession. Need.

"Don't," I whisper. "You'll make it worse."

"I don't care."

"I do. Please." My fingers tighten on his arm. "Just, don't. Not here. Not like this."

We're drawing a crowd. I can feel phones pointed at us, recording, capturing this moment for social media dissection.

Brandon appears at Lucian's other side, calm and steady. "Maybe take this somewhere private? You're causing a scene."

Lucian doesn't move. Doesn't break eye contact with me. "She touched what's mine."

The words hang between us, raw and possessive and completely insane.

"I'm not yours," I say, but it sounds like a lie even to my own ears.

"Yes." His hand comes up, fingers brushing my jaw so gently it breaks something inside me. "You are."

The hallway has gone completely silent. Everyone watching. Everyone recording. Everyone witnessing Lucian Hayes, the untouchable prince of this academy, touch his stepsister like she's something precious.

Tiffany's gasp carries across the space between us. I don't look at her. Can't look away from Lucian.

"This is a mistake," I breathe.

"I know." His thumb traces my cheekbone. "Don't care about that either."

"Lucian, seriously." Brandon's voice carries an edge of warning. "Security cameras. Social media. Your father."

That last word breaks the spell. Lucian's hand drops, and he steps back, but the damage is done. Whatever we were trying to hide, whatever pretense of indifference we attempted, it's shattered on the floor of this hallway.

"Come on," Brandon says, pulling Lucian toward the exit. "Before you do something really stupid."

Lucian lets himself be led away, but he looks back at me once. The promise in his eyes is clear.

This isn't over.

When they're gone, the hallway explodes into whispers. Phones buzz with notifications. Someone laughs. Someone else gasps. And Tiffany stares at me with such pure hatred that I take an involuntary step back.

Mia appears at my side. "Well. That was subtle."

"I didn't, I wasn't…"

"I know." She links her arm through mine. "But it doesn't matter what you did or didn't do. Everyone just saw Lucian Hayes claim you in front of the entire school."

"He didn't claim me."

"Aria." Mia's voice is gentle. "He called you his. In front of everyone. That's claiming you."

My phone buzzes. Then again. Then doesn't stop buzzing.

I pull it out with shaking hands.

Seventeen new followers on the academy app. Forty-three comments on a video I didn't even know existed. Tags. Mentions. Screenshots.

The video is twelve seconds long. Lucian's hand on my face. His words: "You are." The way we looked at each other like nothing else existed.

The caption reads: BREAKING: Lucian Hayes and his stepsister??? This is getting WEIRD. #LucianHayes #StepsiblingsOrMore #AcademyScandal

"I need to go home," I whisper.

"Yeah." Mia squeezes my arm. "You really do."

But home isn't home anymore. Home is a mansion full of rules and secrets and a man who looked at me in a hallway like I was his entire world.

Home is the last place I should go.

It's also the only place I want to be.