All Chapters of Royalty College : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Later in the evening, she texted me the place and location. I hadn’t even asked—guess she knew I’d show up either way. Around 7 p.m., I made my way to the school’s mini stadium. It wasn’t a fancy place, just an old practice ground with creaky bleachers and a handful of flickering floodlights. Some of the bulbs weren’t working, casting strange shadows over the field. Still, it had a vibe—quiet, hidden, ours for the night.I spotted her under one of the working lights, her face softly illuminated. She was on her phone, legs crossed, headphones dangling from one ear. A couple of silhouettes made out further down the stands—clearly busy with their own private rendezvous. I chuckled quietly. Aalia didn’t notice me. I crept up slowly, intending to spook her, but right before I reached her, she raised her head.“Caught you,” she said, eyes twinkling with amusement.I laughed. “Damn, how’d you know?”“I didn’t,” she said, shrugging. “I just felt someone coming. I’ve got good instincts.”“Make

I couldn’t focus the rest of the day. Aalia’s words replayed in my head: “I think we should meet up tonight.”My chest felt light, but at the same time, my mind raced with questions. Why me? Why tonight? What does she want?By 7:30 PM, I was pacing in my room. My uncle had called earlier, teasing me about “college girls,” but I kept my mouth shut. He’d ruin the mood with his endless jokes if he knew.I changed into a plain black hoodie and joggers—simple but clean. I stared at the mirror. Do I look too casual? Too desperate? I almost switched to jeans but decided against it.At exactly 8 PM, I got a text:Aalia: “Meet me at the courtyard near the fountain.”I grabbed my phone and rushed out.The campus courtyard was quiet, the fountain’s glow reflecting off the water. And there she was—Aalia—sitting on the edge, her hijab neatly wrapped, phone in hand. She looked up, and for a second, it felt like the world froze.“You came early,” she said softly.“Couldn’t keep you waiting,” I repli

The gym had gone quiet after Bernie hit the mat. Too quiet.The same seniors who laughed when I staggered earlier now stared at me with tight jaws and folded arms. I could feel their hostility burning holes through my back as I unwrapped my gloves.Coach blew the whistle once more. “Training’s over. Everybody out.”The crowd shuffled reluctantly, murmurs filling the air. Some freshmen looked at me with awe, others with envy. The seniors? They looked like they’d just swallowed poison.I was still sitting on the bench when Coach’s shadow fell over me.“Good work, Neville,” he said in a low voice. “But you’ve just made yourself a target.”I looked up. “Should I have held back?”His lips tightened. “No. In the ring, you never hold back. But understand this—the seniors won’t forget tonight. You embarrassed their golden boy. They’ll make you pay for it.”I nodded, wiping sweat from my face. “Let them try.”He almost smiled. “Careful, kid. Pride can get you killed in this sport. Be at the gy

The gym looked different at night. The bright lights were dimmed, shadows stretched across the ring, and the usual noise of skipping ropes and mitts was gone. The only sound was the dull hum of the overhead lamps.Seven seniors stood inside, waiting. Bernie wasn’t among them—probably still nursing his pride—but the others carried the same smug look he always wore.The one in front, a tall, lean guy with sharp cheekbones, smirked. “Neville. You showed up.”I dropped my bag by the wall. “You called for me.”“That’s right,” he said, stepping closer. “Name’s Curtis. I run things here when Coach isn’t around.”I said nothing.His smirk widened. “Quiet type, huh? Fine. Let me explain how things work. Freshmen don’t just waltz in here and start knocking out seniors. There’s a process. Respect.”The others chuckled, nodding.“Bernie lost to you, and now you think you’re special. But in this club, you earn your place. You bleed for it.”I narrowed my eyes. “And what exactly are you asking me t

The night air was sharp, carrying the faint buzz of crickets. The Faculty Hall loomed ahead, its rooftop barely visible under the pale moonlight.10:00 p.m. exactly.I slipped past the side of the building, my hoodie pulled low, footsteps quiet against the stone stairs. My phone buzzed once more—same number.“Hurry up, freshman. We don’t like waiting.”My fists tightened inside my pockets. I knew what this was. A trap. But walking away would only mark me as weak.I pushed open the rooftop door.They were waiting.Four seniors. Curtis among them, his jaw still bruised from last night. He grinned, teeth glinting in the moonlight.“Right on time,” he drawled. “Neville the golden boy. Thought we’d give you a proper welcome.”I dropped my bag near the door. “This isn’t about welcoming me. It’s about payback.”“Smart kid,” Curtis sneered. “Shame smarts won’t save you.”They closed in, circling me. My pulse quickened, but my stance lowered instinctively.The First BlowOne rushed in. I ducke