Vivian met with the same man again.
"She's getting too close," Vivian said bitterly. "She's smarter than I gave her credit for."
The man shrugged. "Want me to scare her off?"
Vivian's lips curled. "No. Let's just rattle her. Remind her she's in my world now."
---
Back at the mansion, Scarlett and Ryder stood under the stars — no longer pretending things were simple.
Because they weren't.
And soon, they'd find out just how deep the lies ran.
-----
~WEEK LATER ~
Scarlett could feel it in the air — like the whole campus was holding its breath. Ryder had barely spoken that morning, his mind obviously somewhere darker. Mason, surprisingly, wasn't cracking jokes. And even Katarina seemed distant, her eyes darting toward Scarlett with a look of concern she didn't voice.
But Scarlett didn't need anyone to tell her something was wrong.
Because she felt it before she saw it.
Vivian.
Standing near her locker, arms crossed, lips painted red, and expression unreadable. Alone — for once — without her usual group of giggling shadows.
Scarlett paused. She could've walked away. Could've ignored her.
She didn't.
Scarlett walked straight up to her, chin high.
Vivian smiled.
"Well, if it isn't the hired help playing house with the prince."
Scarlett didn't flinch. "And if it isn't the bitter ex still pretending she owns the kingdom."
Vivian's smile grew sharper. "Cute. Ryder must be rubbing off on you. Or maybe you're just finally learning how to dress without looking like a thrift store explosion."
Scarlett smirked. "Still sounds like you're pressed."
"I'm not pressed," Vivian said lightly. "I'm just concerned. You're walking into something you don't understand. Ryder isn't just a guy with a nice face and a trust fund. He's a storm. And storms don't love you back. They wreck you."
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. "Thanks for the metaphor. Want to add a poetry reading to your resume?"
Vivian stepped closer, her voice lowering. "He's not telling you everything. His father's not who you think he is. And Ryder? He'll never be free of that."
Scarlett's breath caught.
Vivian smiled again, but this time, it wasn't fake. It was dark.
"You think you're saving him?" she whispered. "You're just another name on the list of things he'll lose."
Scarlett didn't respond. She couldn't — not yet.
Vivian leaned in one last time. "Ask him about the night his mother vanished. Ask him where he was."
Scarlett's pulse skipped.
Then, with a final flip of her hair, Vivian walked away, heels echoing in the corridor like victory bells.
---
Later That Night...
Scarlett lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling.
Ask him where he was.
The words kept circling her mind.
Vivian was bluffing… right?
Scarlett didn't want to doubt Ryder. But the crack in his voice when he spoke about his mother — the shadows in his eyes — they weren't nothing.
And now? She was caught between the boy she was falling for... and a truth that might ruin everything.
---
The halls were quiet now. The mansion, so often filled with music, sarcastic banter, or Mason's ridiculous energy, felt like a ghost house.
Ryder sat in his mother's old music room, alone.
The keys of the piano were dusty. Untouched.
Just like the memories he tried so hard to forget.
But tonight, he couldn't run from them.
---
FLASH BACK
(Five Years Ago)
He was fourteen.
Rain hit the windows like fists, thunder booming in the distance. He remembered the smell of his mother's perfume, the way she brushed his hair back when he complained about school, the sound of her humming as she walked through the halls.
And then… silence.
He'd woken to shouting downstairs.
He wasn't supposed to hear it. Wasn't supposed to leave his room. But Ryder had crept down the stairs anyway, bare feet cold against marble.
He saw her standing in the foyer, suitcase in hand.
His father — tall, stern, cold — stood across from her like she was an enemy. Not his wife. Not the mother of his child.
"You'll regret this," Mr. King had said, his voice dangerously low.
"No," she whispered. "I regret staying this long."
That was the last time Ryder saw her.
She never made it to where she said she was going.
The police said she vanished. No evidence. No leads. A closed case with a generous hush payment to the press.
His father called it "a scandal best forgotten."
But Ryder never forgot.
Because he was the reason she left that night.
He'd told her about the woman his father was seeing. A name. A hotel. A single detail. A betrayal he hadn't known would shatter everything.
He remembered her face when he told her.
The heartbreak. The silence. The look that said she was already halfway out the door.
And Ryder? He'd thought he was helping.
Instead, he destroyed the one person who truly loved him.
---
~PRESENT~
He stared at the piano, jaw tight, chest heavy.
Scarlett had asked him once if he'd ever been in love.
He lied.
Because this—this guilt, this grief, this hollow ache in his ribs—was his first love. The kind that didn't die, because it was built on what-ifs and could-have-beens.
And now, Vivian was pulling it all back to the surface.
For what? Revenge? Attention?
He didn't care.
All he knew was that Scarlett could never find out what he had done.
Because if she looked at him with that face — the one filled with trust — and then walked away?
It would break him.
---
~Outside the Music Room…~
Scarlett stood frozen behind the door, hand still raised from when she'd almost knocked.
She'd heard enough.
And she didn't know whether to cry… or open the door and hold him.
But what scared her more was the voice in her heart whispering: He's still hiding something.
---
Vivian sat at the back of the café just off campus, stirring her coffee with a silver spoon she had no intention of using. Her reflection stared back at her in the polished window — flawless, composed, and completely in control.
Just the way she liked it.
Across from her sat a girl named Blaire — a transfer student who, unlike most of Vivian's shadows, had her own spine… and her own agenda.
"Tell me again," Blaire said, eyes glinting. "Why do you care so much? It's been over a year since Ryder dumped you."
Vivian smiled slowly, setting her spoon down with a gentle clink.
"It's not about being dumped. It's about winning."
Blaire raised a brow. "Over a guy?"
Vivian leaned forward. "Not just any guy. Ryder King. The heir to the King estate. The boy everyone wants but no one can keep. The moment I get him back, even if only for a second, I'll drop him like dead weight. Because I decide the ending."
Blaire gave a small laugh. "You're twisted."
"And you're still sitting here."
That shut her up.
Vivian pulled a red envelope from her bag and slid it across the table.
Blaire blinked. "What's this?"
"A party. My party. This weekend. And guess what?"
She leaned in, her smile widening like a blade.
"Scarlett's invited. Personally."
Blaire's lips curled. "You want her to show up?"
Vivian nodded once. "I want her to feel accepted. Like she's finally part of our world. I want her to wear something pretty, smile in pictures, maybe even laugh."
Then her eyes turned cold.
"And then I'll show her she was never one of us. That she never stood a chance."
---
Later That Night…
Vivian stood in her walk-in closet, picking out her dress for the party. Something bold. Blood red. Velvet. Sharp in the right places.
She imagined the moment.
Scarlett arriving. Ryder watching her. And then… the chaos.
Vivian already had the tools: the pictures of Scarlett and Ezra, doctored texts, a few whispers dropped at the right moment.
She didn't want to hurt Ryder. Not exactly.
She wanted him to feel lonely.
Because loneliness made people remember who had always been there for them.
Vivian grinned at her reflection.
"Let's play, sweetheart."
---
The Next Day at School…
Scarlett opened her locker and frowned.
A sleek red envelope fell to the ground.
Inside: a gold-embossed invitation.
"You're invited to the Mid-Semester Gala."
Dress to kill. You'll need it. — V.
Scarlett didn't miss the venom tucked between those words.
She glanced down the hall just in time to see Vivian watching her.
Smiling.
Like a wolf in silk.
~MANSON~
Scarlett stared at the invitation on her dorm bed as if it might grow teeth and bite her.
Mid-Semester Gala.
Hosted by Vivian.
She could already hear Mason in her head:
"Red flag, red flag! Abort mission, S!"
Too bad Mason was actually in her face, waving the invitation like a sword.
"You're not seriously going to this, are you?" he asked, flopping next to her dramatically.
Katarina, lounging on the windowsill with a book in hand, didn't even look up. "If she doesn't, it looks like she's scared. Vivian wins."
Scarlett groaned. "You guys, this is clearly a trap."
Mason gasped. "Wow. You think? The hand-delivered invitation soaked in villain energy gave it away?"
Katarina snorted. "Ignore the drama king. He's been dying to go to a party for weeks."
"I have not!" Mason protested. "Okay, maybe I have. But not that one. Not where Vivian's plotting behind every piece of expensive furniture."
Scarlett bit her lip. "What if Ryder sees me there and thinks I'm playing games?"
"Then he's dumber than his pretty face lets on," Katarina said flatly. "You've done nothing wrong. He's the one acting shady. You're allowed to enjoy your life."
"And," Mason added with a grin, "we're not letting you get Vivian-ed. Not without a killer dress, killer heels, and at least one dramatic entrance."
Scarlett blinked. "Why does that sound like a death sentence?"
"Because it is," Katarina muttered, finally closing her book. "A social one."
---
Later That Evening…
The trio snuck off-campus to a boutique Katarina "casually" had connections with (read: the owner owed her two favors and a summer internship).
Scarlett walked out of the dressing room wearing a deep midnight blue dress that hugged her figure just right — classy, but powerful. Feminine, but not fragile.
Mason's jaw dropped.
"Okay, okay! Who gave you permission to look like a CEO who eats trust fund babies for breakfast?!"
Scarlett looked at her reflection. A small smirk tugged at her lips.
"Vivian's going to hate this."
Katarina nodded with approval. "Then it's perfect."
---
Ryder sat in the backseat of his car, arms crossed, eyes staring blankly at the glowing screen in his hand.
He'd just seen the Instagram story.
Vivian's stupid, glittery invitation — with Scarlett's name tagged.
Mason had reposted it with "👀🔥" like the instigator he was.
Ryder's jaw clenched.
He didn't know what bothered him more — that Scarlett was going… or that he hadn't been the one to invite her.
"Sir?" the driver asked softly. "Should we head home?"
Ryder didn't answer.
Because for the first time in a while, he wasn't sure where "home" even was.
----
Friday — The Day Before the Gala
The entire campus buzzed with anticipation.
Posters lined the halls, group chats blew up with speculation, and the Mid-Semester Gala's dress code (strictly black-tie, strictly excessive) was now the number one stressor among students — second only to exams.
But for Scarlett?
It wasn't the event that bothered her.
It was Vivian.
Vivian had gone quiet after the invite. Too quiet. Like the type of silence that came before a detonation.
Scarlett sat with Mason and Katarina in their dorm lounge, a half-eaten granola bar in hand and nerves dancing in her stomach.
"Okay," Mason said, tapping his phone. "Confirmed guest list includes: every desperate rich kid, all of Vivian's flying monkeys, your secret admirer Ezra, and yes — the walking emotional paradox himself, Ryder King."
Scarlett winced. "You think he'll talk to me?"
Mason and Katarina exchanged a look.
"You don't go to war expecting hugs," Katarina said plainly. "You go to win."
Scarlett buried her face in her hands. "Why does this feel like I'm marching into a trap in heels?"
"Because you are," Mason replied cheerfully, patting her head. "But you'll be the best-dressed bait the school has ever seen."
---
At the King Mansion…
Ryder adjusted his cufflinks with a grim expression.
Vivian had called earlier, pretending like the invite to Scarlett was just a "coincidence."
He knew better.
"Planning a show?" he'd asked.
Vivian had only laughed. "Don't worry. I've reserved front-row seats. I even saved you a place next to me."
Now, standing in front of his full-length mirror, Ryder stared at himself. Black suit. Diamond pin. Polished shoes.
It should've made him feel powerful.
Instead, all he saw was the boy trying to protect something he hadn't even fully claimed yet.
Scarlett.
He didn't know when she stopped being "just the nanny." But something had changed. And if Vivian tried to humiliate her in front of half the school?
He wasn't sure he'd sit quietly this time.
---
Back on Campus…
Scarlett zipped up her dress slowly in the mirror. Katarina had done her hair, Mason had chosen her heels, and Scarlett?
She still felt like an imposter.
But then she looked up… and saw herself.
Not as the part-time girl. Not the rude, guarded Scarlett everyone thought they couldn't get close to.
She looked like a challenge.
A threat.
A girl who could stare down Vivian Monroe and walk away untouched.
And that thought? That version of herself?
It gave her courage.
---
Meanwhile…
Vivian stood before her full glam team, watching herself in the mirror as a blood-red dress was adjusted at her hips.
"Is the photographer ready?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And the backup?"
"Yes."
Vivian smiled, satisfied. "Good. Because tomorrow, I'm not just throwing a party."
She leaned forward, lips curving with cruel precision.
"I'm starting a fire."