Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession

TRISTAN'S POV

The dismissal notice felt like a punch to the gut, the air immediately sucked out of my lungs. The crisp white paper, stamped with the university seal, mocked me with its cold, unfeeling authority. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring the already harsh words. Dismissal of Scholarship. It was more than just a piece of paper; it was the rug being yanked out from under my already precarious existence.

Residency as a trauma surgeon was brutal. Sleepless nights, the constant pressure of life and death decisions.

As an orphan, I had no safety net, no parents to fall back on. This scholarship was everything.

I swallowed my pride and marched to the scholarship committee, a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach.

"Please," I pleaded with Mrs. Wilson, the head of the committee and a staunch supporter of mine. "There must be some mistake. My grades are impeccable. I'm the top performing scholar."

Her face was etched with regret. "Tristan, I'm so sorry. Believe me, I fought for you. But… the decision came from the president's office. They've awarded the scholarship to Savannah Cooper."

Savannah. The name alone tasted like bile in my mouth. Savannah Cooper, the heiress who swam in a sea of privilege. She didn't need the scholarship.

"But why?" I choked out, the injustice of it all pressing down on me.

"The official line is that she's been recognized as a top student," Mrs. Wilson said, her voice strained. "I can't say more, Tristan. My hands are tied."

I knew Savannah had pulled strings, used her family's influence, manipulated the system.

As I walked down the sterile, echoing corridor, my head hung low, I felt a sharp thud against my chest. I looked up, and there she was, predictably, Savannah was waiting, perched like a queen bee outside the library, radiating smug satisfaction.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Look who it is. You look positive…pitiful, Tristan. It's a shame, really."

I gritted my teeth. "Get out of my way, Savannah. I don't want to talk to you."

"Oh, I don't think so. You know, all this could have been avoided. If you had just accepted my offer, things would be very different. You wouldn't be in this…unfortunate situation."

"Your offer? You mean becoming your trophy boyfriend to gain more validation and popularity?" I spat. "I rather scrub floors."

Savannah had the reputation of dating different guys for months, dug their deepest, darkest secrets then she will exposed it in public after dumping them. Some are forced to transfer schools due to humiliation.

"Such arrogance, Tristan. You could have been on my good side. But you chose to compete, to oppose me. So, here we are."

"You don't need the scholarship, Savannah. You could find any boyfriend you want. But no, you had to take revenge on me. Why stoop on this?" I asked, the exhaustion finally seeping into my voice.

Her smile hardened. "Darling, you forget your place. You, Mr. Aspiring Charming Surgeon, should have learned to play the game. Instead, you openly opposed me. You chose the wrong side. You deserve it. You always act so independent. You refused to bow to me."

"I deserve this, according to you?" I scoffed. "Because I didn't bow down to you? Because I worked my ass off and didn't rely on daddy's money?"

Savannah's eyes narrowed. "You always acted so high and mighty, Tristan. So above it all. It was… irritating. Tell you what, I might consider giving the scholarship back. All you have to do is run completely naked across the campus oval. Think of it, Tristan. A little humiliation for your entire future."

Rage surged through me, hot and blinding. I stepped closer, my voice low and dangerous.

"You are a spoiled, entitled brat," I spat out. "You think money buys you power, but it just exposes your lack of character. You can keep your stolen scholarship. I'll find another way. You haven't broken me, Savannah. You've just made me angrier."

I turned and walked away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break, leaving her standing there, her face a mask of fury.

As I reached the school gates, a familiar voice called out my name.

It was Trevor Smith, the university's resident playboy, the guy whose known more for his trust fund and revolving door of girlfriends than any academic prowess. He always seemed to be lurking, a shark circling troubled waters.

"Heard about your… situation, Tristan," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Tough break. But I know a way that might be able to help you."

He slipped a small, embossed card into my hand. It was discreet, expensive looking. "Think about it carefully," he said, a knowing glint in his eye. "Sometimes, we have to make difficult choices to get what we want."

Before I could ask what the hell he was talking about, a sleek, black car pulled up to the curb. Trevor patted me on the shoulder.

"Gotta run. My client's here. Give it some thought, Tristan. You might be surprised at the opportunities that can arise from a little… desperation."

He flashed a charming, predatory smile and disappeared into the car, leaving me standing there, staring at the card in my hand.

The card in my hand was slick and heavy. It read "Club Inferno" in embossed silver lettering. I heard whispers, rumors about the place. A playground for the city's elite, a haven for wealthy socialites seeking…companionship. It was a world I never even considered, a world that felt a million miles away from the sterile halls of the hospital and the worn textbooks I was used to.

My stomach churned. The scholarship, Savannah's cruelty, Trevor's offer – it all felt like a suffocating web closing in. I looked down again at the card in my hand, the promise of a solution, however distasteful, tempting me. The desperation was a gnawing beast.

Was this how it all ended? Was I really considering selling myself to survive? The thought made me want to vomit.

But... I need to do everything to survive, even if it meant walking through hell itself.