Xavier's POV
He didn't know what was worse—the fire in her eyes, or the way it refused to burn out.
Xavier leaned against the railing of the rooftop lounge, staring down at the school courtyard. From this height, Liana looked small—just another student with dreams too fragile to survive Regal Heights. But somehow, she wasn't crumbling. Not after the prank. Not after the whispers. And not after their silence.
She should have broken by now. But she hadn't.
She stood taller. Braver. And now, she was entering his stage—the Talent Festival. A battlefield where the Vipers usually crushed anyone who dared to shine too brightly.
He lit a cigarette but didn't smoke it. Just held it between his fingers, watching the smoke curl away like thoughts he couldn't speak aloud.
His phone buzzed.
Elena (sister):
Heard about the festival. She's entering, isn't she?
He didn't reply.
Elena:
You're scared of her.
His jaw tightened.
Elena:
Not because she's strong—but because she reminds you of who you used to be before this family caged you.
He threw the cigarette off the railing, watching it vanish before hitting the ground.
He hated how she always saw right through him.
Later that evening, the Vipers met at his place again—Zayn, Ralph, Adrien. But the party atmosphere was dull. Forced. Even Zayn, the most reckless of them, seemed quieter than usual.
"She's winning fans," Adrien said flatly, scrolling through a student forum on his phone. "Comments. Likes. Everyone wants to see her work at the festival."
Xavier said nothing.
Zayn snorted. "So, what now? You gonna sabotage her entry?"
He looked up sharply. "No."
They all stared.
"She's playing her game. Let her."
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "That's not very Viper of you."
Xavier met his gaze, voice low. "Maybe the Vipers need to wake up."
That night, he wandered into his father's study. It still smelled like cigars and disappointment. Business files littered the desk. Photos of deals sealed, fortunes made, empires built.
But not one photo of Xavier smiling.
Not one of him happy.
His phone buzzed again.
Liana:
You don't scare me, Xavier Blake.
No greeting. No context.
Just those words. Brave. Foolish. Unshakable.
And yet… they were the only thing that made him feel anything real.
He stared at the message, then finally smiled.
Not because he was amused.
But because—for once—he had no idea what he'd do next.
And he liked that feeling.