*Roanne’s POV*The memory of Marco's words slithered through my mind, "Watch out for Violet. She's weaving a web that's tangling us all, even you." His voice had been heavy. I couldn't shake the warning, the weight of it pressing on my chest as I watched Violet from across the room, her laughter tinkling like glass about to shatter.Members from the club were invited to a social outing, and it was at a secluded private garden, where we could enjoy some sun, some chatting, and all the privacy we wanted. It was a nice day out, I felt it worked perfectly before the gala tonight.After some days of me focusing on my studies, and Michael being protective and attentive, I felt things were finally finding a rhythm I could get used to. Normalcy seemed to settle in."Look at Violet," I murmured to Nina, feigning casual interest, "She's always been such an enigma to me.""Isn't that her charm?" she replied, sipping her drink, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of weakness."Sure," I sa
*Aaron’s POV*I sat in my car across the street from the dimly lit venue. It was the kind of place where secrets were traded like currency, and tonight, I was investing heavily. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the familiar itch of impatience."Are we clear on what you're doing?" I asked the figure lounging in the passenger seat beside me. The man was nondescript, his face forgettable—a perfect shadow to slip through the crowd unnoticed."Crystal," he replied, his voice low and even. "Follow the girl, get you the information. You'll know who she's with, where she goes.""Especially tonight," I growled, the tightness in my chest constricting further at the thought of her with him—Michael."Jealous?" He smirked, and I shot him a look that could freeze hell over."Get it done," I snapped, tossing him a wad of cash. He caught it deftly and stepped out of the vehicle without another word.Left alone, I leaned back against the leather seat, my mind racing with images of Roanne—
*Roanne’s POV*The early morning light had yet to fully claim the sky, a dim blue that hinted at the day ahead. I was still wrapped in the cocoon of my sheets when the sound of a soft knock roused me from the edge of sleep. I managed to force myself to get up, and walked towards the main entrance. There, Michael stood at the threshold, his presence a silent yet commanding declaration, a breakfast tray in hand."Thought you'd like some fuel for the brain," he said, the corners of his mouth tilting up ever-so-slightly."Michael," I murmured, surprise lacing my groggy voice. He crossed the room, setting the tray down on the table with a gentleness that belied his stature. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of buttery croissants, waking me up quickly."Thanks," I said with a smile, sitting up and reaching for the steaming mug. My fingers brushed against his, a small gesture that would have made me pull back before, yet it was so natural now. Michael's eyes held
*Aaron’s POV*The musty scent of old books and the hushed whispers of conspiracy swirled around me in the club’s meeting room by design. I perched on the edge of a leather chair, its surface cracked with age, watching the members of the Revenge Club skulk between the towering shelves. Violet made them hunters in their own right, seeking out the weaknesses of their prey. The library, once a sanctuary of knowledge, now served as a war room.I had to admire her skilled manipulation, she was using them for her own purposes, without stopping to help them as well.I watched as one of the senior members, Nina, with her eyes hidden beneath a veil of raven hair, was hunched over a small vial, her fingers deft and sure. She'd always been reclusive from what Blake had told me before I entered, more at ease among beakers and chemicals than people. But here, she was a sorceress brewing something dangerous. It was her latest concoction that had everyone's attention - including mine."Subtle,"
*Aaron’s POV*The morning light bled through the blinds, casting shadows across the table where I sat, a half-eaten grapefruit before me. The tang of citrus lingered on my tongue, mingling with the bitter aftertaste of black coffee. My fingers were stained with newsprint; headlines screamed at me in stark, block letters as I picked up the paper. Front page. Professor Lee's mugshot stared back, his eyes hollow, the fall from grace immortalized in black and white."Drug scandal rocks campus – Arrest made amid allegations," read the bold type. My stomach churned. Each word was a hammer to my conscience. Arrested during the night. Anonymous calls. The club had stretched its tentacles far and wide, it seemed."Damn," I muttered under my breath, the syllables sharp as broken glass. Was justice served or had they become the very monsters they sought to punish? The question gnawed at me."Morning." Blake's voice cut through the silence, sudden and unwelcome. He stood in the doorway, a da
*Roanne’s POV*I was perched on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, legs crossed, fingers unconsciously tracing the tender skin around my wrist. The bruise felt like a burn every time I pressed it, a stark reminder of Damien's possessive grip. My heart still hammered with an undercurrent of fear, but in Michael's presence, I tried to show I was calm.Michael paced the room, his face etched with concern, the lines in his forehead deepening as Jonathan recounted the day's events. His voice, usually so composed and calm, now carried an edge of fury, "He got that close to you?" he questioned, glancing at me, his eyes searching for answers."Damien's unpredictable," Jonathan said, standing rigid, his posture speaking volumes of his readiness to defend. "It might be wise to tighten security around Roanne.""Follow her more closely?" Michael's tone was sharp, slicing through the tension hanging in the air."Exactly." Jonathan nodded, never once breaking eye contact with Michael.I shif
*Roanne’s POV*The keys of my laptop clacked in a frenzied rhythm, echoing the pounding of my heart. My mind was wrapped around sentences and citations, my soul poured into the academic prose that would determine my next grades. The paper was due tomorrow, and it had to be perfect—just like everything else I strived for in this Ivy League pressure cooker."Roanne," I murmured to myself, "just a few more paragraphs."Suddenly, my phone vibrated against the wooden surface of my desk, an intrusive tremor amidst my concentration. It was Violet. Her name alone sent a ripple of unease through me.‘Join me for coffee?’ The text was simple, but nothing with Violet ever was. I liked comparing her to a siren luring sailors to rocky shores with her charm and promises of power. I hesitated, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Coffee with Violet wasn't just coffee—it was always about something else, and I wondered if she had my last mission ready for me to prepare."Fine," I whispered, surrend
*Roanne’s POV*The neon sign of the diner buzzed like a nest of anxious wasps, flickering against the dawn's creeping light. I pushed through the door, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries hitting me with comforting familiarity. My eyes scanned the booths and found Lizzie, her hair a wild cascade of curls, laughing in a way that seemed to make the whole room brighter."Ro," she called out, waving me over.My heart thrummed with a mix of excitement and nerves as I slid into the booth opposite them. Beside Lizzie sat Anne Marie, the enigma that had captured my best friend's heart—a girl she'd mentioned with stars in her voice but never introduced until now. In fact, I only knew her name this morning, when I woke up to her message inviting me over for breakfast."Hey," I said, a small smile playing on my lips, "you must be Anne Marie."Her return smile was a sunrise, warm and promising. "Nice to finally meet you, Roanne.""Likewise." I took her in: the gentle ti