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Chapter 30: The First Real Threat
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2025-10-31 16:23:00The note sat in my pocket all night, burning through the fabric like fire. I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Every creak of the dorm pipes, every shuffle of feet in the hallway made me jolt upright, certain someone was coming for me.
By morning, my head was heavy, my eyes gritty, but the fear hadn’t dulled. If anything, it had sharpened, slicing at me with every thought. Someone knew about me. About Jace. About everything.
I’d survived weeks at Blackridge by convincing myself I was the one in control. That I was always one step ahead. But standing in front of my mirror, hair pulled back tight, uniform buttoned to the throat, I didn’t feel like Ava Carter or Eva Sinclair. I felt like prey.
I told myself I wouldn’t involve Jace unless I had to. But the universe seemed determined to laugh in my face, because the second I stepped into the quad, he was already there. Leaning against the statue like he owned it, jacket slung
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Sweetest Revenge Chapter 33: The Unseen Player
Here ream slices through the maze like a knife, freezing my blood in an instant.“Ava!”My name—my real one—echoes across the campus.Jace and I stare at each other for half a second. That’s all it takes.Then we run.Branches whip against my arms as we tear through the hedge maze, slipping out the other side and sprinting across the quad. Students stop and stare, murmuring, confused and alarmed, but I don’t slow down. I don’t breathe. I don’t think.My legs move on instinct—toward danger, not away.“Ava, slow down—” Jace grabs my wrist.“No!” I yank free. “Someone called my name. They know me. They know who I am.”“Ava, we don’t know what we’re walking into—”“That’s exactly why I’m not stopping.”He curses, but runs beside me anyway.The closer we get to the administration building, the louder the noise becomes—not another scream, but frantic voices, footsteps, the sharp sound of someone crying. A crowd has already gathered at the steps.And then I see her.Mira. The friendly outsid
Sweetest Revenge Chapter 32: Truce, Not Trust
Darkness swallows everything.For one terrifying heartbeat, I think I’ve gone blind. The locker room is pitch-black, the fluorescent buzz overhead gone silent, like someone ripped the power cord out of the world.My breath catches.Noah’s last words echo in my skull: If you get this… run.I can’t run.I can’t even see.“Ava,” Jace’s voice cuts through the dark, low and rough. His hand finds my arm, steady and warm. “Stay with me.”“I’m right here,” I whisper, though my voice shakes.Something creaks behind us—metal? A locker door? Footsteps?Jace pulls me closer, positioning himself in front of me. My shoulder hits the wall, cold and unyielding, grounding me just enough to breathe.“We need to move,” he murmurs, breath brushing my ear. “If someone cut the lights, they want us trapped.”“Or separated,” I whisper back.He curses under his breath. “Not happening.”The emergency lights flicker on at that exact moment—dim red bulbs casting long shadows across the tiled floor. The room look
Sweetest Revenge Chapter 31: Broken Alliances
Sleep is a stranger by the time dawn finally smears gray across the sky. I sit on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the last note like it’s some kind of radioactive object.You’re running out of time.My fingers run over the letters again and again until they blur. Every sound outside my door makes me flinch. Every thought circles back to the same, terrifying truth:Someone isn’t just watching me.Someone wants me gone.Someone wants me like Noah.My breath shudders out. I press my palms to my face and inhale slowly, forcing myself to keep it together. If I fall apart now, I lose. If I panic, I lose. If I trust the wrong person—I don’t even want to think about that outcome.The building hums awake: running water, footsteps, slamming doors. Normal sounds. Safe sounds. Almost enough to make me believe last night was nothing but paranoia.Almost.I shove the notes deep into my bag and tie my hair back, my hands trembling only a little. Fake it until you make it. Noah us
Sweetest Revenge Chapter 30: The First Real Threat
The note sat in my pocket all night, burning through the fabric like fire. I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Every creak of the dorm pipes, every shuffle of feet in the hallway made me jolt upright, certain someone was coming for me.By morning, my head was heavy, my eyes gritty, but the fear hadn’t dulled. If anything, it had sharpened, slicing at me with every thought. Someone knew about me. About Jace. About everything.I’d survived weeks at Blackridge by convincing myself I was the one in control. That I was always one step ahead. But standing in front of my mirror, hair pulled back tight, uniform buttoned to the throat, I didn’t feel like Ava Carter or Eva Sinclair. I felt like prey.I told myself I wouldn’t involve Jace unless I had to. But the universe seemed determined to laugh in my face, because the second I stepped into the quad, he was already there. Leaning against the statue like he owned it, jacket slung
Sweetest Revenge Chapter 29: Enemies United
The problem with secrets is they never stay buried. Not the ones that matter, anyway. And no matter how many lies I pile on top of mine, I can still feel them, scratching from underneath, begging to be let out.That’s why meeting Jace tonight feels like walking into my own grave.We agreed to work together — or at least pretend to. But I can tell from the way he’s waiting under the bleachers, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders tense, that strategy isn’t the first thing on his mind. His gaze lifts as I approach, shadowed and unreadable.“You’re late,” he says.“You’re impatient,” I shoot back, forcing my voice flat.He huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Typical Carter.”I ignore the way my stomach twists when he uses my real name. I should correct him, remind him that as far as the rest of Blackridge is concerned, I’m Eva Sinclair. B
Sweetest Revenge Chapter 28: Blackmail
The first note should have been enough to scare me off. A warning, clear and simple. But Blackridge doesn’t operate in warnings—it operates in weapons. And tonight, I’m the one with a knife at my throat.The second note comes folded and tucked neatly into my history textbook. I find it when I open the book to take notes, the paper sliding out and landing on my desk. My pulse spikes before I even unfold it, because I already know what it’ll say.Hand it over. Or everyone learns who you really are.The tape. The flash drive sitting hidden inside my desk drawer under a false bottom I built myself. Proof of Noah, proof of Jace, proof of everything. Whoever’s pulling the strings knows I have it.My throat tightens. Around me, class drones on. The teacher’s chalk squeaks across the board. Students yawn, scribble, pass notes of their own. No one sees me freeze, no one notices the world narrowing to a single sente
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