*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
*Roanne’s POV*I was alone, the silence in my apartment deafening—a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. The heavy knock on my door shattered my solitude. My heart leapt, but when I saw it was Michael through the peephole, relief washed over me like a warm tide."Michael," I breathed as I flung the door open. His presence, so assured, enveloped the room. He was privilege and protection, wrapped in tailored clothes that clung to his athletic form."Roanne." His voice was a velvet caress. "What’s wrong?"Before he could finish his question, I was in his arms, clinging to him with a desperation I hadn't realized I possessed. I might not love him, but I cared so much for him, and everything that happened earlier just made me realize I couldn’t take Sebastian hurting him."Sebastian cornered me..." I began, my words tumbling out in a frantic whisper against the fabric of his shirt. I felt him stiffen, his hold tightening. I pulled back slightly, the intensity in his
*Aaron’s POV*The intercom crackled with Roanne's voice, laced with an edge of confusion that tightened my chest. "Yes?""Roanne, it's Aaron. I need to talk to you," I said, my voice steadier than the drumming of my heart. The concierge glanced up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he buzzed me through.I ascended, the elevator's plush silence a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. Her door swung open, revealing the opulence I had grown indifferent to, but something was different—Roanne's personal touch permeated the space. A stack of thick textbooks on the coffee table, a vibrant throw over the back of a leather chair, her scent lingering like a caress in the air.Michael stood there, embodying privilege and calm elegance. His gaze wasn't aggressive, but wary, sharp as a blade beneath a veneer of civility."Didn't expect a visit from you, Aaron," he said, the words measured, careful."Michael." I acknowledged him with a nod, noting how he positioned himself—a bar
*Roanne’s POV*The thump-thump of the bass from the speakers matched the erratic beat of my heart as I stepped into the event room, a space too small for the enormity of my paranoia. My fingers traced the delicate fabric of my dress, a shield against the stares that pricked my skin like needles. The forced smile on my lips felt as brittle as glass."Happy birthday, Roanne!" Lizzie, ever the effervescent soul, pulled me into a hug. Her voice, a soothing balm, cut through the loud noise."Make a wish that'll shake the stars," Anne Marie chimed in, her grin infectious. They were the ropes keeping my feet on the ground, their laughter a counter-melody to my internal tumult."Thanks, ladies," I managed, my voice a traitor to my distress. My gaze flitted across the room, catching sight of Lila, flushed and radiant, with Caleb and Nina crowding her like mischievous sprites. Their tipsy giggles punctuated the air, a reminder of simpler times."Is she drunk?" I whispered, a chuckle escap