Chapter 8 Meet The Half-Sister

"What did you just say, Saavedra?" Vera’s voice cracked, her entire body trembling with rage. She lunged forward, her chair scraping violently against the concrete floor, but Marc and another student instantly caught her by the arms, anchoring her back.

...

Kianna

I didn't even blink. I just adjusted the strap of my tote bag, letting a slow, easy grin spread across my face as I watched her struggle. "Wow," I said, tilting my head. "I didn't think the description would fit so perfectly. You're quick."

Vera’s knuckles turned white as she snatched her metal tumbler off her desk, raising it like a weapon. "You literal—!"

"Vera, drop it!" Marc hissed, pulling her arm down before she could throw it. "Ramos is coming up the stairs right now. You throw that, and you're looking at a suspension. Sit down."

Vera let out a sharp, ragged breath, reluctantly letting her arm drop. She shoved Marc away, dragging her chair forward with a deafening screech. "Don't touch me," she muttered, her fingers digging into her desk as she glared at the floorboards. "Let's see how smug you are when the faculty tears into your attendance record. Being late on a Monday... you're asking for it."

"I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you," I said, sliding into my usual seat next to Miaree. I unzipped my bag with a deliberate, smooth motion. "I already spoke to the dean's office. I'm on an officially sanctioned three-day leave of absence for an unexpected marriage."

The entire back row went dead silent.

Miaree’s head snapped toward me so fast her hair whipped across her face. "Married?" she whispered, her eyes wide with total shock. "What do you mean, married? Since when?"

"It happened yesterday," I said quietly, leaning closer so only she and Marc could hear. "It was sudden, and I didn't have the time to call. The paperwork cleared this morning. The dean gave me until Wednesday off, but I didn't want to miss the lectures, so I came in."

Within five seconds, the desks around us were crowded. Classmates slid over from the adjacent rows, their voices rising into a frantic, low hum of questions. Across the aisle, Vera sat entirely alone, her eyes fixed on me with a venomous glare, her jaw clenched tight enough to break.

"Wait, Kia, seriously? You’re not joking?"

"Where’s the ring?"

"Did you guys have a reception?"

"Is he a model? Tell me he’s rich."

"Man, Vincent really lucked out, didn't he? Congratulations, Kia!"

The names and assumptions started blurring together as the crowd pressed in closer. I merely leaned back against my chair, a faint, sharp smirk cutting across my lips.

"Thanks," I said, checking my nails. "But it isn't Vincent."

The huddle froze. Marc’s brow furrowed, his mouth opening to ask another question, but three sharp, metallic raps echoed against the open wooden door.

The room instantly cleared. Students scrambled back to their respective rows as Mrs. Ramos marched into the lecture hall. Her face was set in its usual stern grimace, her black folding umbrella tucked firmly under her arm—a permanent fixture of her wardrobe, rain or shine.

"Is this a university classroom or a public market?" she snapped, slamming a heavy stack of legal folders onto the podium. The sharp sound made half the front row flinch. She immediately began sorting through a deck of index cards with terrifying efficiency. "Did anyone in this room actually open the codal readings over the weekend, or were you all too busy gossiping?"

She drew a single white card from the stack, her sharp eyes scanning the rows. "Let's start recitations. Gilbuen. Page twenty-four, paragraph two. Analyze the liability."

A collective dread settled over the room. Mr. Gilbuen stood up slowly, his face completely drained of color, his fingers shaking as he flipped through his textbook.

...

Kianna

The noon heat was thick by the time the dismissal bell finally rang. I packed my notebooks away, breathing a small sigh of relief.

"We got incredibly lucky she stuck to the first chapter," Miaree whispered, slinging her bag over her shoulder as we walked toward the exit. She was still wiping a thin layer of nervous sweat from her forehead.

Marc caught up with us at the door, nodding in agreement. "You got lucky too, Kia. Ramos looked at your approved leave slip and actually smiled. If you keep showing up on your days off, you're going to end up as her favorite by midterms." He paused, his expression turning serious as we hit the crowded corridor. "But seriously... who did you marry? Why not Vincent? Your dad was practically banking on that merger."

"I'll give you the whole story over lunch," I said, guiding them down the concrete stairwell toward the student canteen. "Let's just get out of the hall first."

We found a corner table in the back of the pavilion. The moment our trays hit the plastic surface, Miaree leaned across the table, her voice entirely too loud. "A stranger?! Kia, are you insane? What if he’s a criminal? What if he’s hiding a record or a drug habit?"

I lunged forward, firmly clamping my hand over her mouth. "Miaree, shut up! The whole pavilion can hear you."

Marc tore off a piece of his bread, his face a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "Kianna Myst, this isn't a game. You can't just bind yourself to a guy you met five minutes ago. Who is he? What does he do? Give us a name, and I’ll have my cousin look into him."

"Relax, both of you," I said, pulling my hand back and taking a sip of my water. "Nothing bad is happening. He’s decent. He works as an executive assistant at a major firm."

Marc stopped chewing, his eyes narrowing. "Which firm?"

"Imperial Group," I replied.

Marc’s defensive posture melted slightly, a look of reluctant respect crossing his face. "Imperial? Their background checks take months, and they only take the top five percent of applicants. If he’s running an executive desk there, the guy is clean and incredibly sharp."

I smiled, a strange, small spark of pride warming my chest as I went back to my food. "See? I told you."

"Well, look who made the front page."

The sweet, venomous voice dripped from right behind my chair. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was Asteria. My stepsister stood there, her arms crossed over her designer blouse, with Vera trailing closely behind her like a shadow.

"I heard the news, sister dear," Asteria said, her lips curving into a mocking pout. "Married yesterday? How tragic. Did you have to keep it a secret because he's a nobody? Dad must be thrilled."

Vera chimed in, a nasty sneer on her face. "Probably some low-life she picked up to spite Vincent. It's pathetic, really."

I set my fork down with a dull clink, slowly turning my head to look at them. My expression remained completely cold. "Look at that," I said quietly. "The stray dog brought her owner along. You two should really check yourselves—the stench of your desperation is ruining my lunch."

Vera’s face turned a violent, dark crimson. "You bitch!" she shrieked. She snatched an open can of Coke from a neighboring table and hurled it directly at my face.

"Kia, move!" Miaree shouted.

I didn't panic. I timed the trajectory, smoothly tilting my head to the left at the last possible second. The aluminum can sailed past my ear, the sticky brown liquid spraying across the air—and slammed squarely into the chest of a massive, broad-shouldered guy walking behind us.

The entire section of the canteen went dead silent.

He was wearing a black leather vest, a prominent patch of the campus Redbull Gang stitched into the shoulder. The dark soda was currently soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the concrete floor.

Vera’s breath hitched, her hand flying to her mouth. "I-I didn't—"

"You're dead," the guy rumbled. He turned around slowly, his massive frame towering over our table. His fists clenched, the veins in his neck bulging as he glared down at Vera.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs, an entirely amused smile spreading across my face. "Go ahead, Vera," I murmured, watching her skin turn translucent with fear. "Finish what you started."

The gang member took a heavy step forward, the floor practically vibrating under his boots. "Which one of you threw this?" he growled, his voice like a thunderclap.

Vera and Asteria didn't even answer. They spun on their heels and bolted toward the main exit, their heels clicking frantically against the tile as they ran for their lives.

"I'm sorry! It was meant for Kianna!" Asteria screamed over her shoulder, her voice fading as they vanished into the crowded courtyard.

Miaree burst into loud, hysterical laughter, pounding her fist against the plastic table. "That was beautiful! Did you see her face? She almost wet herself!" Marc was trying to stifle his own laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" I asked, a low chuckle escaping my throat as I picked up my fork again. "Come on, finish up. We have ten minutes before the next period."

...

The mirrors in the women’s restroom were foggy from the heat, but Asteria didn't care. She was furiously scrubbing at the stray drops of soda that had splattered onto her sleeve, her breath coming in short, angry gasps. The moment the giant had stepped toward them, Vera had abandoned her, running straight for the campus gates, leaving Asteria to handle the humiliation alone.

Two underclassmen walked into the restroom, whispering and glancing at the dark stain on Asteria's shirt.

Asteria snapped around, her eyes wild. "What are you looking at? You want me to gouge your eyes out? Get out!"

The two girls scrambled backward, the heavy restroom door slamming shut behind them.

"Kianna, you absolute parasite," Asteria hissed to her reflection, her fingers gripping the edge of the porcelain sink until her nails turned white. "You think you won something? You think that pathetic little marriage changes anything?"

A sharp, cruel smirk replaced her grimace. She pulled her smartphone from her pocket. "You left Vincent behind. And now, he's entirely mine."

She dialed his number, pressing the phone to her ear. It rang three times before picking up, a loud wave of street traffic and chatter filtering through the line.

"Vincent, registry honey," Asteria cooed, her voice instantly dropping into a soft, innocent purr. "Where are you? It's so loud over there. Are you outside the office tower?"

"Hey, babe," Vincent’s voice came through, thick with a lazy, confident drawl. "Miss me already? Didn't get enough of me last night?"

Asteria’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, a small, triumphant smile spreading across her face. "Stop it, you jerk. I'm serious. I just miss you. Are you free?"

"Just stepping out of the main branch for a walk," Vincent said, a low chuckle passing through the speaker. "Want me to come by the campus and pick you up? We haven't tried the back of the office parking lot yet."

"I'll be waiting at the side gate," Asteria whispered, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Don't make me wait too long, baby."

She ended the call, sliding the phone back into her tote bag. She looked at her reflection one last time, her eyes narrowing into cold, calculating slits. "Enjoy your little assistant, Kianna," she murmured to the empty room. "Because I'm going to take absolutely everything else."