chapter 28 " What jealousy leaves behind "

The Brentford garden was quieter than usual. Early spring leaves whispered above, and the air was soft with the scent of blooming hibiscus.

Helena sat cross-legged under the big sycamore tree, reading a weathered copy of Jane Eyre. Her concentration broke when a shadow passed over the page.

Greg.

He dropped beside her, stretched out on the grass, and handed her a cup of iced mango tea. “You didn’t eat lunch again,” he said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“You’re always not hungry when you're thinking too much.”

Helena raised an eyebrow, teasing. “And you always bring tea like it solves everything.”

Greg smiled. “It usually does.”

He leaned closer. Their shoulders touched. Then their fingers. Then—

His lips met hers.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a secret. It was soft. Sure. The kind of kiss that didn’t need hiding anymore.

And across the garden, someone watched.

Bianca.

From behind the library windows, she stared as Greg kissed Helena like he didn’t remember anyone else before her. Like he never would again.

Her jaw clenched.

Minutes later, she was in a cab, her phone in her hand.

That Afternoon — RoseGold Restaurant

Bianca flipped her hair as she slid into the leather booth of one of the most expensive rooftop restaurants in the city. Jake, tall and gym-sculpted, was already waiting for her with a bottle of champagne.

“You’re late,” he said, smirking.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “I’m always worth waiting for.”

Jake chuckled. “You’re a handful. But I like it.”

She laughed, leaned forward, flirted, sipped her drink. And yet—

Greg’s face kept flashing through her mind.

Helena’s laugh.

The way they looked at each other.

She couldn’t block it out.

Later — Kingsbridge Hotel

Jake's arm draped lazily around Bianca as they sprawled across the crisp white sheets of a luxury suite. City lights blinked outside the floor-length windows. Jake’s voice buzzed in her ear—something about Dubai, or his father’s new car, or crypto.

She wasn’t listening.

Bianca’s mind was still at Brentford.

Still under that tree.

Still watching Greg kiss Helena like she never existed.

Her jaw tightened. She reached for her phone and scrolled back to the photos she’d secretly taken of them earlier.

Her thumb hovered over Delete.

Then moved to Save instead.

“I’m fine,” she lied, leaning into Jake’s chest with a practiced sigh. “I’m totally fine.”

But she wasn’t.

Because no matter how far she ran, no matter how expensive the dinners or luxurious the hotel suite—

She couldn’t stop thinking about the boy who no longer wanted her.

And the girl who had him.

The Kingsbridge Hotel elevator chimed softly as Bianca stepped in, makeup still flawless, hair still curled, expression unreadable.

Jake leaned against the wall near the suite door, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, holding his phone. “You’re really leaving?”

Bianca gave him a lazy smile, already bored. “You’ve served your purpose.”

Jake laughed, pulling her close by the wrist. “You’re ice, Bianca.”

She didn’t resist the kiss he pressed to her lips—brief, practiced, meaningless.

Then he slid his hand into his pocket and said, “Check your phone. A little something for the ride.”

Bianca stepped into the elevator as her phone buzzed. She glanced down.

$50 USD. Transferred. From Jake.

She rolled her eyes.

“Cheap.”

The Next Day – Brentford Academy Courtyard

The energy on campus shifted the moment the matte-black Jaguar rolled into the front gates. Whispers raced like fire.

A new student.

Tall, bronze-skinned, with tousled hair and a smug, easy confidence that screamed money and menace, he stepped out of the car with a smirk—and eyes that immediately searched the crowd like he was hunting something.

Henry De Luca. Son of a hotel tycoon. Transfer student from Italy. Charming, dangerous, and very used to getting what he wanted.

And what he wanted now… was Helena.

Later – Cafeteria

Helena sat with Tessy, laughing softly at a dumb joke Greg had texted her. Her appetite was finally coming back. Her skin was healing. And her heart, though bruised, was finding peace in quiet moments like this.

Then a tray slammed beside her.

She looked up—and blinked.

“New girl, right?” Henry grinned, sliding into the seat across from her without invitation. “Helena, yeah? I’ve heard things about you already.”

Helena frowned. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But we’re gonna change that.”

His gaze was bold. Intrusive. He scanned her like she was something expensive on a showroom floor.

Tessy narrowed her eyes. “She’s not interested.”

But Henry ignored her. “You’re prettier than I expected. Must drive your boyfriend insane.”

Just then—

Greg’s voice sliced in.

“Get up.”

Henry didn’t move. “And you are?”

“Greg Carter. Her boyfriend. The one you’ll stay the hell away from.”

Henry stood—slowly—and smiled like he was thrilled. “Ah. So you’re the Greg Carter. The golden boy. Let’s see how long you stay on top.”

Greg stepped closer. Their shoulders almost touched. “I’m warning you.”

Henry’s grin widened. “I love a challenge.”

Tessy pulled Helena away before things exploded, but the tension lingered in the air like static before a storm.

Meanwhile – Bianca’s Perspective

From the far end of the courtyard, Bianca sipped her iced coffee, watching the scene unfold with a delighted grin.

Henry was already doing what she needed him to do.

She turned to her friend Grace beside her and whispered, “He’s going to tear them apart.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you tired, Bianca?”

Bianca laughed coldly. “Tired? No. I’m just getting started.”

Her eyes glinted as she watched Greg storm away after Helena.

“Let Helena play perfect,” she murmured. “Let her pretend Greg’s only ever going to love her. Because soon enough…”

She opened her phone, tapping through photos until she found one of Henry.

“…he’s going to break that illusion into pieces.”