chapter 9: secrets after midnight

VALENTINA'S POV

The message on Seraphina's phone followed me long after I left the ballroom.

THE SCHOLARSHIP GIRL CHEATED HER WAY INTO BLACKWOOD UNIVERSITY. TOMORROW, EVERYONE WILL KNOW.

My stomach twisted.

I had worked too hard to get here. Late nights, rejected applications, scholarship interviews, and months of worrying about money had brought me to Blackwood. I hadn't stolen anyone's place.

I had earned mine.

So why did the thought of losing it frighten me so much?

My phone vibrated.

A message from my mother.

Baby, please call me when you can. We need to talk about your father.

I stared at it, unable to find the energy to answer.

Not tonight.

I couldn't handle another family problem. Not after everything I'd already sacrificed to make a life for myself.

I slipped my phone into my purse and returned to the ballroom to find Chloe.

She took one look at my face.

“What happened?”

“Apparently, I'm a criminal now.”

Her smile disappeared.

I showed her the screenshot.

“That's ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “Who would do something like this?”

“Someone who doesn't want me in the competition. Or someone who simply enjoys making my life miserable.”

“Adrian looked furious.”

“Adrian looks furious when the cafeteria runs out of his favourite coffee.”

“Valentina.”

“What?”

“He was worried about you.”

I adjusted the strap of my purse.

“That's his business.”

But I remembered how he had stepped between me and Seraphina. For once, he hadn't looked like the arrogant boy who enjoyed making me miserable.

He had looked genuinely concerned.

And that was dangerous.

Because I was beginning to suspect there was more to Adrian Blackwood than his expensive clothes, cruel remarks, and irritating confidence.

I wasn't ready to discover what that meant.

---

ADRIAN'S POV

By eleven thirty, the gala had become unbearable.

My father had disappeared into a private meeting with two investors, Seraphina was pretending not to watch me, and Valentina had left with Chloe.

I should have gone home.

Instead, I stood outside the university library, staring at the message about Alexander.

YOUR BROTHER TRIED TO PROTECT SOMEONE ON THIS CAMPUS.

Someone on campus.

Someone connected to Valentina.

I called the unknown number.

It rang once before going straight to voicemail.

“Who are you?” I demanded. “What do you know about my brother?”

Nothing.

I tried again.

The number was switched off.

“Damn it!”

I slammed my palm against the wall.

“Having a wonderful evening?”

I turned.

Valentina stood near the entrance, still wearing the red dress beneath a dark coat. Her hair had loosened slightly, and she looked exhausted.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a quiet place to study.”

“At midnight?”

“Some of us have assignments, Blackwood. We can't spend all day admiring ourselves in mirrors.”

I almost smiled.

Then I noticed the folder in her hands.

“Your competition proposal?”

She pulled it closer to her chest.

“Why do you care?”

“Because someone is trying to sabotage you.”

“And you suddenly care about academic honesty?”

The question stung because I deserved it.

I had spent weeks trying to intimidate her simply because she had beaten me. I'd made her life harder because my father had taught me that losing meant weakness.

Valentina hadn't done anything wrong.

I had.

“I know I've been an ass to you,” I said.

She blinked.

“Did someone replace your brain with a functioning one?”

“Don't ruin the moment.”

She almost smiled, but it disappeared quickly.

“An apology doesn't erase anything, Adrian.”

“I know.”

For once, I meant it.

She studied me for a moment before glancing toward the library doors.

“I'm going inside. Are you coming?”

I nodded.

We entered together.

---

VALENTINA'S POV

The library was nearly empty.

A few students occupied the study booths, and the night attendant sat behind the front desk, watching a basketball game on his phone.

Adrian followed me to a table near the windows.

“You don't have to sit here,” I told him.

“I know.”

“Then why are you?”

He pulled out a chair.

“Maybe I enjoy your charming personality.”

“Seek medical attention.”

He laughed.

Actually laughed.

It was so unexpected that I stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. I was checking whether you had a twin.”

“Unfortunately, you're stuck with the original.”

We worked in silence for nearly twenty minutes. I reviewed my proposal while Adrian answered emails on his laptop.

Then his phone lit up.

The name on the screen was DAD.

His entire expression changed.

He declined the call.

It rang again.

He declined it a second time.

The third time, he answered.

“What?”

His father's voice was loud enough for me to hear from across the table.

“Where are you?”

“Studying.”

“At this hour?”

“Some of us have responsibilities.”

Silence.

Then Richard Blackwood spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

“Do not mistake your little rebellion for independence. Everything you have belongs to this family.”

Adrian's jaw tightened.

“I didn't ask for everything.”

“No. You simply enjoy spending it.”

His fingers curled around the phone.

“You know what? I'm busy.”

He ended the call.

For several seconds, he didn't move.

The arrogance had vanished from his face. In its place was something raw and exhausted.

I knew that expression.

I'd worn it myself after conversations with my parents.

The feeling of being trapped between wanting their love and hating what it cost to receive it.

“Your father seems pleasant,” I said quietly.

Adrian gave a humourless laugh.

“He's worse when he's in a good mood.”

I wanted to ask what had happened between them, but I stopped myself.

Everyone had wounds they didn't want strangers touching.

Instead, I pushed my packet of biscuits across the table.

He looked at it.

“Are you feeding me?”

“Don't make it weird. They're cheap, and I bought too many.”

He took one.

“Thank you.”

Two simple words.

No teasing. No arrogance.

I found myself looking at him differently.

“Your family makes you unhappy,” I said before I could stop myself.

His gaze lifted to mine.

“Your family doesn't?”

My throat tightened.

I looked down at my notes.

“My parents are divorced.”

He said nothing, so I continued.

“They've been fighting for years. Even after they separated, every problem became an argument about whose responsibility it was. Sometimes I feel like they divorced each other but forgot they were still my parents.”

Adrian's expression softened.

“I'm sorry.”

I shrugged, pretending it didn't matter.

“I'm used to it.”

“That's not the same as being okay.”

I stared at him.

For once, he had said something I couldn't dismiss with a joke.

My phone vibrated again.

This time, it was a message from an unfamiliar number.

STOP INVESTIGATING THE COMPETITION. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU'RE CHALLENGING.

I showed Adrian.

His expression darkened.

“Have you received anything like this before?”

I hesitated.

Then I told him about the threatening message I'd received after the party and the suspicious email I'd found in the library printer.

He listened without interrupting.

When I finished, he leaned back.

“Someone wants you frightened enough to withdraw.”

“Then they'll be disappointed.”

“Valentina, this could be bigger than the competition.”

“I'm not giving up my place because someone sent me a text.”

“I didn't ask you to give up.”

“Good.”

He leaned forward.

“I'm asking you to let me help.”

I studied him carefully.

The same boy who had mocked me for beating him was now offering to stand beside me.

I wanted to believe him.

That frightened me more than the messages.

“Help me find out who's behind this,” I said finally. “But don't expect me to trust you just because you suddenly decided to be decent.”

His mouth tilted into a small smile.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

---

ADRIAN'S POV

At twelve seventeen, Valentina discovered the file.

She had been searching through the competition guidelines on her laptop when an unfamiliar document appeared in the university portal.

It contained a list of shortlisted candidates, their scores, and the names of their sponsors.

Valentina scrolled down.

Then she stopped.

“Adrian.”

Something in her voice made me move closer.

Her name appeared beside a note.

CANDIDATE UNDER REVIEW — ADMISSION AND SCHOLARSHIP RECORDS TO BE REASSESSED.

Below it was an approval stamp from the university's administrative office.

But the document's creation date was two weeks before the competition had even opened.

“They planned this before I submitted my proposal,” she whispered.

I stared at the screen.

Someone had been preparing to discredit her from the beginning.

Then I noticed another name in the document.

Seraphina Vale.

Her application had been marked PRIORITY REVIEW — PRIVATE SPONSORSHIP CONFIRMED.

My stomach tightened.

Valentina opened the document's properties.

“There's an author name.”

She clicked.

A name appeared on the screen.

RICHARD BLACKWOOD.

My father's name.

I couldn't breathe.

For several seconds, the library seemed to disappear around me.

My father had told me to stay away from Valentina. He had warned me about my reputation, my future, and the competition.

Had he known what was happening?

Had he helped arrange it?

Before I could speak, Valentina's laptop screen went black.

Her phone rang immediately.

Unknown number.

She answered on speaker.

A distorted voice filled the silent library.

“You were warned, Miss Reyes.”

Valentina gripped the edge of the table.

“Who is this?”

“You have until tomorrow morning to withdraw from the competition.”

“Or what?”

A short laugh came through the speaker.

“Or the university will learn something very interesting about your family.”

Valentina went completely still.

The caller continued.

“Ask your father why he really left your mother.”

Her face drained of colour.

Then the line went dead.

I stared at her.

She stared at the phone.

Neither of us spoke.

Because whoever was threatening Valentina had just reached beyond the university, beyond the competition, and straight into the one part of her life she had tried hardest to keep private.

And they knew exactly where to hurt her.