Chapter 4- Broken Rules.

Maya’s POV

The heavy wood of her bedroom door clicked shut in response.

I let out a sharp breath, staring at the empty hallway, half-tempted to throw my water glass at the wall just to crack the silence.

I was a pawn in my parents' election strategy, a trophy on Ethan’s arm, and now an inconvenient piece of furniture to my lecturer.

I dragged my miserable self back to the leather couch, burying my face into a throw pillow that smelled faintly of Diana’s laundry detergent.

God, even the fabric was hostile.

By the next afternoon, I desperately needed an exorcism from this apartment.

The campus quad was buzzing with life, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence of my living situation. I practically sprinted toward the student union lounge, spotting two familiar faces huddled over a laptop at a corner table.

Kaya neck deep in her notebook, while Ryan was aggressively typing, looking like he was one minor inconvenience away from throwing the keyboard across the room.

“If this professor uses the word ‘synergy’ one more time, I am dropping out and becoming a full-time sugar baby,” Ryan groaned as I slid into the booth next to Kaya. He looked up, his dark eyes instantly tracking my exhausted posture.

“Oh honey, look at you. Who died? Or did your politician father finally mandate a dress code for your expressions?”

“Don't start, Ry,” I sighed, dropping my forehead onto the cool wooden table. “I have survived a total of twenty-four hours in higher education, and I am already on the verge of committing academic fraud just to get expelled.”

Kaya snorted, sliding an iced caramel macchiato toward me. “Drink up, washing-machine girl. I already heard about the drama from yesterday afternoon. Word travels fast when Ethan Sterling pulls his alpha-male routine in the humanities building. But more importantly, we need to discuss the real threat.”

I lifted my head, taking a desperate sip of the coffee. “The housing glitch?”

“No, babe. Ms. Diana Thorne,” Kaya said, leaning in, her eyes wide with malicious glee.

“Ryan, you missed it. Yesterday morning, Sloane here tried to defend the honor of digital reading apps, and the Ice Queen literally performed a public execution on her logic. It was brutal and honestly? It was kind of hot.”

“It was not hot!” I defended instantly, my hands flying up. “She is a clinical, over-privileged dictator who takes pleasure in humiliating students because she clearly has no joy in her own life. She called my opinion a straw man argument. Who even does that?”

“A woman with impeccable posture and severe boundary issues,” Ryan chimed in, adjusting his denim jacket with a dramatic sigh.

“Though, let’s be fair, Maya. The rumors about her are insane. Someone in my advanced styling class said she’s twenty-two and already has a master’s. Twenty-two! At twenty-two, my only achievement will be maintaining a flawless skincare routine while crying over my credit card debt. But seriously, is she as terrifying up close?”

“Worse,” I muttered, staring at the bottom of my cup. I omitted the minor detail that I was currently sleeping on her living room couch and listening to her drink amber liquor in the dark.

“She’s completely untouchable. And she hates me. She literally told me she’d have my scholarship revoked if I stepped out of line again.”

“Well, thank god you have Ethan to protect your virtue,” Ryan joked, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Though if my boyfriend gripped my waist that tightly in public, I’d sue him for copyright infringement on my body. We get it, Ethan, she’s your fiancée. Relax the grip, public safety is watching.”

“Ethan was just trying to help,” I said, the words tasting like dry paper in my mouth. I sat up straighter, adjusting my tank top. “He talked to the Dean at lunch yesterday. They’re already clearing out a private suite for me in the honors dorm.”

Kaya paused, her straw hovering near her lips. “Wait. Really? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” I said, trying to summon the gratitude I was supposed to feel. “He said I shouldn’t have to deal with a dumpy apartment. It’s what a good boyfriend does. He takes care of things.”

“Mmhmm,” Ryan hummed, exchanging a brief, knowing look with Kaya that made my stomach twitch.

“Standard high-society savior behavior. Very hetero, very predictable. Personally, if a man tried to solve my housing crisis by throwing money at a Dean, I’d make him buy me a Telfar bag too, but that’s just my personal brand of capitalism.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, the tension finally leaving my shoulders for the first time all day. “I just want a normal semester. No drama. No political campaigns. No icy lecturers.”

“Speaking of drama and Diana,” Kaya leaned over the table, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Is there anything we need to know?”

My heart did a sudden, violent flip against my ribs, a completely unwarranted reaction that made me instantly angry. “Kaya, can you stop? The only thing to know is that I want the satisfaction of passing her class with an A so I never have to look at her blue eyes again.”

“Alright, alright, defensive!” Kaya raised her hands in surrender, laughing. “Just saying. The ice is thin, Sloane. Don't fall through.”

The high-energy shield of my friends dissolved the moment I walked back into the apartment area later that evening.

The hallway was entirely silent, I pressed my keycard to the door of the apartment, expecting the usual pitch-black void. Instead, the door gave a soft click before I even pushed it, swinging open to reveal the living room already bathed in a warm, low light.

My breath hitched.

Diana was sitting at the small kitchen island, her laptop open, the glow of the screen illuminating the sharp angles of her face. The ginger hair was tied back loosely today, a few stray strands framing her jaw. She didn't look up when I entered, her fingers flying across the keys with an aggressive, rhythmic speed.

“You left your laptop charger in the lecture hall yesterday,” she said, without a single introductory greeting. “The custodian turned it into my office.”

I closed the front door behind me, my backpack feeling twice as heavy. “Oh. Thanks. I’ll go pick it up tomorrow.”

“No need,” Diana said. She reached down beside her stool, lifting the white cord and tossing it casually onto the kitchen counter. It slid across the marble, stopping right at the edge.

“I don't like clutter in my workspace, and I certainly don't like having your personal belongings lingering in my department.”

I walked over to the counter, my jaw tight as I reached for the charger. “You really can’t help yourself, can you? It’s just a cord, Ms. Thorne. It wasn’t an invasion.”

Finally, her blue eyes lifted from the screen, locking onto mine with an intensity that instantly made the air in the room feel hot.

“Everything about your presence here is an invasion, Sloane,” she said softly, leaning back against the stool, her gaze dropping to my baggy jeans before rising back to my face with a slow, deliberate calculation.

“But if you’re going to remain here until the administration shuffles you off to your premium honors suite, you will keep your life contained.”

I stepped closer, the counter the only barrier between us, my anger pushing past my usual restraint. “You know about the honors suite?”

“Dean Harrison called my department head this afternoon to ensure my syllabus wouldn’t ‘unduly stress’ the Sterling foundation’s interest,” Diana said, a small, dark smile touching her lips, an expression full of pure hate.

She stood up and she leaned forward, her face mere inches from mine. The scent of vanilla and sharp paper filled my lungs. “Your boyfriend plays a very loud game, Maya. But in this apartment, the rules are still mine.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic, dangerous rhythm that had absolutely nothing to do with Ethan. I stared at her lips, then forced my eyes back to her freezing blue gaze, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m not trying to break your rules.”

“Then go to sleep,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to my mouth for a fraction of a second before she turned away, snapping her laptop shut.