Derek Holloway sat in his car long after the fraternity party had ended, the muffled bass still thumping through the night air. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel.
He replayed Ethan's words in his head, again and again:
"Talent without privilege terrifies those who rely on privilege alone."
The humiliation burned hotter than whiskey ever could. The recording Ryan had leaked had spread across campus like wildfire. By morning, everyone knew Derek Holloway had mocked an orphan for laughs.
And worse, Ethan Cooper had turned the tables with nothing more than a few carefully chosen words.
"Bastard," Derek muttered under his breath.
He had tried rumors. He had tried mockery. Both had backfired. Now there was only one option left: remove Ethan completely.
Not just socially. Academically.
If Ethan were expelled, no one would ever speak his name again.
Monday morning, Ethan walked into the economics lecture hall as though nothing had happened. His demeanor was calm, detached, eyes cold as always.
But Clara noticed the shift immediately. She leaned close as they settled in.
"People are talking about Derek again," she whispered. "He's angry. More than usual."
Ethan didn't even glance at her. "Of course he is."
"You don't seem worried."
"I'm not."
"Ethan," Clara pressed, lowering her voice further. "He's not going to stop. Can't you just… walk away? Avoid him?"
Ethan's pen scratched across his notebook, precise and methodical. "Do you run from a storm, Clara? Or do you anchor yourself and let it pass?"
She frowned. "Storms destroy things."
"Not if you know how to build stronger foundations."
Clara shivered. Ethan's calm wasn't just unsettling — it was chilling. He spoke like someone who had already foreseen every move.
That night, Derek gathered his closest allies in the frat basement. The air was thick with smoke and bitterness.
"He embarrassed me," Derek said flatly. "So I'll bury him."
One of the guys shifted uneasily. "Derek, he's clean. You tried rumors. You tried mocking. He just flipped it all. What else can you do?"
Derek's grin was sharp and cruel. "You don't have to destroy a man's reputation. You only have to make the right people believe he broke the rules. Professors. Administrators. That's all it takes."
His allies exchanged wary looks. "You're talking about framing him."
Derek leaned back, swirling his glass. "Call it… leveling the playing field."
He tapped the rim thoughtfully. "Cheating. Plagiarism. Theft. Something undeniable. Something that sticks."
The following week, Professor Harding assigned a midterm paper worth thirty percent of the grade. Students buzzed nervously. Clara immediately began planning study groups. Ryan loaded up on coffee.
Ethan, however, sat motionless in the library. He stared at the assignment sheet as though it were already solved.
Across the room, Derek's allies whispered. Ethan didn't need to hear them to know what was happening. He could feel the weight of their stares, the false casualness in the way they carried their laptops.
"They're planting something," Ethan murmured under his breath.
Ryan frowned from across the table. "Planting what?"
Ethan looked up at him, eyes cold and steady. "Evidence."
Clara stiffened. "You're saying Derek's going to frame you? Ethan, that's— that's serious. If the faculty believes it—"
"They won't," Ethan cut in.
"Why not?"
"Because I'll let them believe something else first."
Neither Clara nor Ryan understood what he meant, but Ethan had already turned back to his notebook. His expression never wavered.
Two nights later, Derek executed his plan.
James, his most trusted ally, slipped into the library after hours with a forged keycard. He carried a flash drive — one Derek had personally prepared.
It contained stolen excerpts from published academic papers. Passages Ethan had never written, formatted to look like his midterm essay draft.
James slid the flash drive into Ethan's assigned library computer, saved the files under Ethan's folder, and left without a trace.
By morning, an anonymous tip had already landed in the dean's inbox: Ethan Cooper is submitting plagiarized work.
The summons came swiftly.
"Mr. Cooper," Professor Harding said grimly after class, "the dean would like to see you this afternoon. Bring your assignment files."
Clara paled. Ryan cursed under his breath. Ethan only nodded, as though he'd been expecting it all along.
The dean's office was austere, filled with mahogany shelves and a single ticking clock. Dean Halloway — Derek's uncle, though few knew — sat behind the desk, stern-faced.
"Mr. Cooper," he said, sliding a folder across the desk. "These documents were found on your library account. They appear to be drafts of your midterm paper. Unfortunately, they match existing published works word for word."
Clara's worst fears had come true. Ryan clenched his fists.
But Ethan… Ethan didn't even blink.
"Interesting," he murmured, flipping through the papers. "Who discovered these?"
The dean adjusted his glasses. "They were submitted anonymously."
Ethan's lips curved faintly. "Of course."
"Do you deny these are yours?" the dean asked sharply.
Ethan set the folder down with deliberate care. "Yes. And I can prove it."
The dean raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Ethan folded his hands. "Because those files were planted. And I made sure whoever planted them would leave fingerprints behind."
The room went silent.
Clara stared at him. Ryan's jaw dropped.
The dean's frown deepened. "Explain yourself."
Ethan's voice remained steady, almost clinical. "Two weeks ago, I noticed unusual log attempts on my library account. So I left a bait folder. Empty, except for a tracking script disguised as a draft file. Anyone who opened it would leave a digital signature I could trace."
He slid a USB drive across the desk. "Last night, someone accessed that folder using a keycard registered to James Rowe. A fraternity member. You'll find the full log history here."
The dean's eyes widened slightly as he inserted the drive into his computer. Sure enough, the logs popped up: date, time, and James Rowe's ID.
Clara covered her mouth in shock. Ryan muttered, "Holy shit."
Ethan sat back calmly. "If you compare timestamps, you'll notice the exact moment the plagiarized documents appeared in my account. Less than three minutes after his login. I never touched them."
The dean stared at the screen, struggling to hide his reaction. "This is… highly irregular."
Ethan's gaze sharpened. "What's irregular, Dean, is that someone attempted to frame me. That's a violation far more severe than plagiarism. Perhaps you should ask James who ordered it."
Within 24 hours, the campus buzzed with a new scandal. James Rowe had been suspended pending investigation. Derek's name wasn't officially mentioned, but whispers filled the air.
"James wouldn't do that on his own. Derek put him up to it.""Cooper outplayed them again.""Man, Derek's finished."
Clara caught up with Ethan outside the lecture hall, her expression torn between awe and unease.
"You set this up weeks ago," she said. "You knew Derek would try to frame you."
Ethan adjusted his backpack. "Predictable men make predictable mistakes."
Clara shook her head. "It's like you're… always waiting for someone to attack you."
Ethan glanced at her, his eyes colder than winter. "That's because they always do."
And with that, he walked off, leaving Clara standing in the hallway, wondering if she should be impressed — or terrified.