The night swallowed the campus in a heavy, lonely silence.Even the crickets seemed muted, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Inside a small, hidden bar just outside the university walls, Liam sat hunched over a half-empty glass of whiskey. The dim, amber lights above flickered weakly, casting tired shadows over his face. His dark hair was messy, his shirt untucked, his tie abandoned somewhere on the floor beside him.
The ice in his glass had melted into nothing but pale water, untouched—just like him, forgotten by the world he once thought he controlled.
His hands shook slightly as he gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white, jaw clenched. He didn't drink to feel better. He drank because he couldn't stop the ache in his chest otherwise.
Images plagued him—relentless, uncontrollable, stabbing at his mind like knives:Aira's soft laughter under the glow of fairy lights.Aira leaning into Zane's shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.Aira smiling… but not at him.
Not at him anymore.
Liam closed his eyes tightly, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. Pain cracked through his ribs like a hammer against fragile glass.
How did I lose her?How did I let it get this far?
He fumbled for his phone with trembling hands. The cursed photos Mrs. Harper had sent him lit up the screen again.
Aira and Zane.Laughing.Touching.Together.
The photos weren't obscene. They weren't even dramatic. They were worse. They were ordinary. Natural. They looked real. Like the kind of moments lovers shared without thinking.
And that destroyed him.
Before he even realized what he was doing, rage exploded inside him. With a guttural sound, Liam hurled the phone across the bar. It hit the wall with a violent crack, shattering into sharp pieces that clattered onto the floor.
The sound drew eyes. Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the dim bar.
But Liam didn't care.
He didn't see them. Didn't hear them.
He sat back heavily, breath ragged, heart broken and bruised. Regret was a weight pressing down on his shoulders, heavier than any punishment.
Meanwhile, in the dark and nearly deserted hallways of the university, Rei and Damian moved like shadows. Their footsteps were deliberate, silent, every sense alert.
Rei's sharp eyes flicked toward a figure lingering near the library entrance—the same suspicious man they had spotted before.
Rei's lips curled in satisfaction. "There he is."
Damian's fists tightened, muscles tensing. "Looks like our rat came out to play."
The two exchanged a quick nod, an unspoken agreement passing between them.
They followed.
The man's movements were cautious, jerky, like he knew he was being hunted. He paused beneath a broken lamp, pulled out his phone, and spoke in a hurried whisper.
Rei and Damian stayed hidden in the shadows, straining to hear.
"…Yes. Mrs. Harper. I'm watching. She doesn't know… Zane is closer now. Orders?"
Damian's blood boiled, fury twisting through his veins. He wanted to storm forward, crush the man where he stood. But Rei's hand shot out, gripping his arm like a vice.
"Not yet," Rei hissed. "We need proof."
Damian's jaw flexed. His breathing was heavy, controlled only by sheer will. "This woman… whoever she is… she's dangerous."
Rei's eyes narrowed. Cold. Calculated. "And we'll expose her. Piece by piece."
They recorded everything—the man's words, his face, the number he called. Evidence. Something to protect Aira with when the time came.
But not yet.
Not until they knew just how deep this rabbit hole went.
Elsewhere, Aira walked alone.
Her footsteps echoed softly against the empty path back to her dorm. The night air was cool, brushing against her skin like unwelcome fingers. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to shake off the heaviness pressing down on her chest.
But the memories came anyway.
Suddenly, she wasn't on campus anymore. She was thirteen again.
Standing in the corner of her family's living room. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice trembling.
"Please… please just tell them the truth, Sana."
And Sana—just a child herself, with a sweet, poisonous smile—looked at her with mock innocence.
"But why would I lie, Aira?" she had said. "Maybe… maybe you're just not lovable enough."
The words had cut deeper than any blade.
Her mother's cold silence.Her father's disappointed glare.Her brother's mocking laughter.
No one defended her.They never did.
They always believed Sana. Always.
The memory stabbed through her chest like rusted nails.
Aira pressed a trembling hand over her heart, forcing herself to breathe.
"You're not that little girl anymore," she whispered into the night, her voice rough, broken. "You don't need them anymore."
She straightened her spine, forcing steel into her veins. Layer by layer, she rebuilt the wall around her heart until it was nothing but cold iron.
Across the campus, Zane sat on his bed, staring at a tiny star-shaped pendant resting in his palm.
It was simple. Almost childish. But it had weight. Meaning.
He turned it over between his fingers, jaw clenched.
He hated this feeling—this uncertainty, this unease gnawing at him. He hated knowing that someone else's shadow still lived inside her heart.
Why do you matter this much, princess?
He thought of her quiet strength. Her unshakable walls. The sadness she carried in silence. The way she leaned into him—if only for a second—as though she didn't even realize she was allowing herself to.
Zane ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair, exhaling sharply.
"You're falling for her, idiot," he muttered under his breath.
The pendant glimmered faintly in the dim light. He closed his fist around it, shoving it into his pocket.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he'd give it to her.
Far away, in a cheap motel room reeking of dust and stale smoke, Liam sat hunched over a brand-new phone.
The screen blinked.A new message.An unknown number.
His heart pounded violently as he opened it.
A video clip.
Aira and Zane.
Zane draping his jacket around her shoulders.Zane brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
But it was wrong. Too polished. Edited. Twisted.
Below it, a single line of text burned across the screen:
If you want her back, you know what you have to do.
Liam's breathing turned harsh, uneven, like he was drowning. His hands shook as he gripped the phone, his knuckles pale and bloodless.
Shadows crept across his face, twisting his features into something darker. Something broken.
For the first time, his heart didn't just ache.
It burned.
Burned with something poisonous. Something desperate.
He didn't see the trap tightening around him. Didn't realize Mrs. Harper was pulling every string.
He only knew one thing.
He had to win Aira back.
No matter what it cost.
No matter who he had to destroy