NOAH
Marcus picked me up before the sun had fully clawed its way into the sky. The horizon was still that bruised purple-gray, matching the knot twisting in my gut.
He'd spent half the night reaching out to some kids from chemistry class, the ones who'd been there, who'd seen what really happened. But they all told him the same thing.
I had assaulted Seraphina Voss. Either they were blind, terrified, or bought off. Probably all three.
Now we sat in the far corner of the library, him hunched over his phone firing off desperate texts, me staring at the same physics equation I'd been pretending to understand for twenty minutes. The words blurred. My mind kept looping back to expulsion papers, my mother's tired face, and the scholarship I was about to lose.
The intercom crackled to life, shattering the quiet.
"Noah Callaghan, please report to Dean Harrison's office immediately."
Ice flooded my veins. This is it.
Marcus looked up, jaw tight. "I'm coming with you."
I could only nod. My throat had sealed shut.
The walk across campus felt like a death march. Every step dragged heavier than the last. My heart slammed against my ribs so violently I was sure Marcus could hear it.
Getting expelled. I'm actually getting expelled.
Mom's face when I tell her I threw everything away—
No. Don't go there.
When we reached the administrative building, I stopped outside Harrison's door. "Wait here."
"Noah—"
"Please. Just… wait."
He didn't like it, but he nodded. I pushed the heavy oak door open and froze mid-step.
Seraphina was already there.
She sat perched in the deep leather chair like she owned the room—porcelain skin, pristine uniform, hands folded demurely in her lap. Her expression was soft. Peaceful.
Innocent.
What the hell?
"Noah, come in. Sit down," Dean Harrison said, gesturing to the chair beside her.
I moved like I was underwater, legs heavy and numb. I sank into the seat without looking at her.
Harrison cleared his throat. "Seraphina came to me this morning with a rather… generous proposal."
He laid it all out in that careful, professional tone. How she had graciously reconsidered. How, instead of expulsion, I would be placed on supervised probation. How I would "assist" her with student council duties and charity gala preparations to prove I understood boundaries and respect.
Translation: I was going to be her personal errand boy. Her servant.
Her slave.
No matter how nicely he wrapped it, that was the truth.
And Seraphina sat there the entire time, ankles crossed, looking every bit the merciful angel. But I caught it—the faint curve at the corner of her lips, the dark glitter in her eyes. She was savoring this.
She'd tried to burn my entire future to the ground, and now she was playing goddess, offering me scraps from her throne.
"Noah," Harrison said firmly, expectation heavy in his voice. "I believe you owe Seraphina both an apology and your sincere thanks."
You've got to be kidding me.
But what choice did I have? None.
Mom. Think about Mom.
I stood slowly, every muscle screaming at me to run, to swing, to do anything except this. My hands clenched at my sides.
"I'm sorry," I forced out. The words tasted like ash and bile. "And… thank you. For your forgiveness."
A quick smirk flashed across Seraphina's face—there and gone in a heartbeat—but I saw it. Crystal clear.
Then she rose gracefully and reached for my hands.
Her skin was impossibly soft. Warm. Her grip gentle, almost tender.
She looked up at me with those wide, beautiful eyes and smiled—soft, kind, heartbreakingly sincere.
If I didn't know better, I would have believed every second of it.
"I forgive you, Noah," she said quietly, voice like velvet over steel.
Liar.
She turned to Harrison. "We should get to class. We don't want to be late."
She released my hands and started for the door. I followed like a puppet on strings, mechanical and hollow.
The moment we stepped into the hallway, Marcus was there, practically vibrating with tension. "What happened? Are you—?"
"I'm not expelled," I said flatly.
His eyes widened. "What?"
"Thanks to Seraphina," I added, the words burning my tongue.
Marcus shot her a glare that could've melted steel. He looked at her like she was venom wrapped in silk.
Seraphina didn't even glance at him. She turned to me instead, calm and expectant.
"Your phone," she said simply.
"I don't have one anymore. Roman destroyed it."
Something flickered across her face—too fast to name—but she masked it instantly. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, the sharp click of her heels echoing down the corridor like a victory march.
Marcus grabbed my arm the second she was out of earshot. "What the hell just happened in there?"
I told him everything. The probation. The "supervised assistance." The way I'd now be dancing to her tune for the rest of the year.
By the time I finished, he looked ready to put his fist through the nearest wall.
"You sold your soul to her," he said, voice low and shaking. "You know that, right? You're her fucking slave now."
"It's better than getting expelled."
"Is it?" He stepped closer, eyes blazing. "Where's your pride, Noah? Your dignity? First you were practically ready to lick her shoes, and now you're actually doing it—"
"I don't have a choice!" The words exploded out of me before I could stop them. "Unlike you, Marcus, I don't have a rich daddy to fall back on! I have a mom who lies awake every night worrying about me. Who works double shifts just to keep the lights on and food on the table. She's already carrying too much. If begging Seraphina, licking her shoes, or becoming her goddamn errand boy is what it takes to stay in school and not destroy her… then I'll do it."
Marcus stared at me, stunned into silence.
I turned away before he could see the burn of tears in my eyes.
Before he could see how much I hated myself for meaning every single word.