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Chapter 13 - Cracks in the Crown

Author: Papilora
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-17 12:40:51

There are moments when masks slip, when people stop performing and the truth crawls out in all its ugly shapes. Most of the time, you miss them—people are too good at hiding. But sometimes, if you’re patient, if you’re lucky, you catch it.

And tonight, I catch Jace Langston.

It happens by accident. I’m not supposed to be anywhere near the Langston estate. But curiosity is a dangerous itch, and after days of staring at files and scraps of evidence that lead nowhere, I need more.

So when I see his car parked by the east gates after school, engine running, and he disappears inside, I follow. Not close enough to be obvious—just enough to track the path, memorize the twists of the driveway, the towering hedges, the iron gates that look more like prison bars than decoration.

I don’t know what I expected. Something cold and elegant, maybe. A mansion with spotless windows and silence heavy as gold.

What I find instead is noise.

The shouting starts before I even get close enough to the back ga
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  • Sweetest Revenge   Chapter 14 - The Scholarship Girl

    Rumors are like smoke. They slip under doors, curl through cracks, and fill a room before anyone notices the fire that started them. At Blackridge, smoke spreads faster than oxygen.It starts small. A whisper in the hallway. A sly look during lunch. By third period, it’s everywhere.“Scholarship girl.”Two words. That’s all it takes.I hear it when I pass lockers, when I slide into my seat, when I walk down the marble stairs with my books hugged to my chest. The word isn’t an insult in itself, but here? At Blackridge, where kids wear privilege like designer perfume? It’s a brand. A scarlet letter.Scholarship means you don’t belong.By the end of the day, there are stories attached to it. My parents work in some dead-end diner. I live in a shoebox apartment across town. I lied on my application to get here. Each version shifts, but the sting is the same.I want to laugh at the irony. They think they’ve uncovered my big secret when in reality, they haven’t even scratched the surface. T

  • Sweetest Revenge   Chapter 13 - Cracks in the Crown

    There are moments when masks slip, when people stop performing and the truth crawls out in all its ugly shapes. Most of the time, you miss them—people are too good at hiding. But sometimes, if you’re patient, if you’re lucky, you catch it.And tonight, I catch Jace Langston.It happens by accident. I’m not supposed to be anywhere near the Langston estate. But curiosity is a dangerous itch, and after days of staring at files and scraps of evidence that lead nowhere, I need more.So when I see his car parked by the east gates after school, engine running, and he disappears inside, I follow. Not close enough to be obvious—just enough to track the path, memorize the twists of the driveway, the towering hedges, the iron gates that look more like prison bars than decoration.I don’t know what I expected. Something cold and elegant, maybe. A mansion with spotless windows and silence heavy as gold.What I find instead is noise.The shouting starts before I even get close enough to the back ga

  • Sweetest Revenge   Chapter 12 - A Deal with The Devil

    The thing about threats is that they don’t always come with fists or shouting. Sometimes, they come wrapped in silk, smooth and persuasive, like honey laced with poison.That’s exactly how Jace Langston corners me the next morning.I don’t see him at first—I just feel him. That strange shift in the atmosphere, the way people step aside without realizing why, how conversations dip when he’s near. By the time I round the corner toward my locker, I know he’ll be there. And of course he is, leaning against the cool gray metal like it belongs to him, arms folded, that infuriating half-smile tugging at his mouth.Golden boy. Prince of Blackridge. Devil in a school tie.I stop a few feet away, my bag strap biting into my shoulder. “Move.”He tilts his head like he’s actually considering it, then shrugs. “No.”My jaw tightens. “Some of us actually need to get to class.”“Relax, Sinclair.” His voice is velvet over broken glass—smooth but dangerous. “This won’t take long.”The hallway buzzes ar

  • Sweetest Revenge   Chapter 11 - The Confrontation

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  • Sweetest Revenge   Chapter 10 - Strikes One

    If you want to hurt a prince, you don’t go after his crown. You go after his throne.That thought keeps circling in my head like a vulture as I sit in the library, laptop glowing against the dim light. For days, Jace’s warning to Eli has replayed in my mind—his hand gripping the boy’s chin, his voice dripping with venom. It was a message, not just to Eli, but to everyone watching.To me.But if Jace thinks intimidation is going to scare me into silence, he doesn’t know me at all.So I do the only thing I can: I aim higher.Not at him. Not this time.At his father.Chief Alexander Langston, Blackridge’s iron-fisted king. The man who made my brother disappear.It isn’t easy, combing through records with the school’s Wi-Fi, but I’ve learned to be slippery. VPNs, throwaway accounts, digital smoke bombs. Still, my palms sweat as I search. One wrong click and the wrong pair of eyes might notice.I almost give up—until I find it.A report buried in an old local paper’s archives. Barely a par

  • Sweetest Revenge   Chapter 9 - Echoes of a Fall

    The slip of paper with Jace’s name burns a hole in my pocket all week.I keep taking it out when I’m alone—at night when the dorm is quiet, in the library when the silence swallows me whole—just to trace the neat block letters. Langston, Jace A. Disciplinary Report. April 14. The same week Noah vanished.It should feel like a smoking gun. Instead, it feels like a riddle.Because the more I watch Jace, the less he looks like the mastermind I’ve built in my head. Yes, he’s arrogant. Yes, he’s untouchable, the crown prince of Blackridge. But the way he carries himself—controlled, careful—feels less like a boy who orchestrates disappearances and more like someone covering cracks.Every time I catch his gaze, it’s too steady, like he’s daring me to flinch first. Every smirk feels rehearsed. And then there are the moments when he slips—when I see his jaw tighten, his eyes flick away, the weight he carries like it’s chained to his shoulders.What if I’m wrong about him?The thought makes me

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