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The air in Gabriella's Mansion felt thick with history and unspoken tension. Her room was a study in controlled chaos: floor-to-ceiling windows draped in heavy sapphire velvet, a vintage vanity table laden with expensive perfumes, and a massive, four-poster bed that looked more like a throne. Gabriella, dressed in her crisp uniform.
She about to jump and retreate her bracelet from jake hand, but her sneaker caught on the thick Persian rug. She yelped as she lost her balance, and in a scramble of arms and legs, she tripped, pushing Jake backward with unexpected force.
They tumbled down, a flurry of silk and muscle. Gabriella landed hard, not on the floor, but directly on him.
The world outside the sapphire drapes vanished. All she could see was the startled shock in Jake's usually unwavering steel- blue eyes, now wide and focused solely on her. Her hands were braced on his chest, where she could feel the frantic, uneven rhythm of his heart beneath the thin fabric.
She was instantly mortified. This was not part of the plan.
"I—I'm so sorry," she stammered, scrambling to pull herself upright.
Before she could even shift her weight, a strong, warm hand clamped around her waist. Jake grabbed and pulled her closer. The sudden, decisive move left her hovering inches above him, their faces dangerously near.
Her eyes flicked to his ears. They were unmistakably red, a stark contrast to the pale skin of his neck. It was a detail Gabriella had never seen on the notoriously unflappable Jake before. He loosened his grip on bracelet which was slided down..and landed on floor.
Their synchronized, pounding heartbeats were the only sound in the opulent room. Jake's deep voice was closer than a whisper, raspy and low, like grinding velvet.
"Did I ever give you… butterflies before, Gabi?"
Gabriella froze. The raw honesty, the deep emotional vulnerability in his question, was a punch to the gut. She didn't know how to respond to this unexpected breach in their professional wall. Her mind was a dizzying blur of shock, confusion, and a terrifying flicker of something hot and undeniably real. His eyes were locked on hers, demanding an answer that she didn't have.
Suddenly, her training kicked in. She broke the spell. With a sharp gasp of air, Gabriella pushed off him and stood up, smoothing the front of her blouse with a speed that screamed denial. She acted with an icy normality that instantly rebuilt the walls between them.
Jake didn't flinch. He sat up on the floor in a stylized, casual sprawl that somehow managed to look elegant, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
"I'm waiting," he murmured.
"You'll wait longer," she snapped, striding toward the door. Her voice, from just outside the room, was perfectly composed again. "Are you coming or not?."
Jake's smile widened. He sprung up from the floor with the agility of a jungle cat, his brief moment of romantic weakness instantly replaced by his usual calculated intensity. He ran a hand through his dark, messy golden hair and followed her out, leaving the charged silence to settle back into the room.
The Shorty Revelation
The Grand Music Room in Brighton Wisdom, soundproofed and dedicated to pure escape. Ajax sat at a sleek, black grand piano, the only light coming from the focused beam of the music stand lamp. He was dressed in tailored dark green trousers and a crisp, oversized white shirt, looking stunningly focused as he practiced a complex Bach fugue on his keyboard.
He finished with a flourish, pulling off his headphones. The heavy scent of polished wood filled the silence. He immediately grabbed his phone and entered his favorite multiplayer game.
The familiar avatar of his partner, Dona, was online. Ajax had spent months building this gaming bond, but he hid his true identity behind the fake name 'PhantonKnight.'
HotJas : hi
She didn't reply. Ajax watched the typing indicator flash and disappear. He frowned, confused. Then he remembered: she was furious about their last match—he hadn't risked his high score to rescue her from a trap.
HotJas : Are you still pissed because I prioritized the objective last time?
She finally replied, her digital words sharp and visible in the chat log.
Dona: yes. I don't wanna play with you anymore. You are a cheater.
Ajax laughed out loud, a rich, genuine sound that echoed slightly in the massive room. He found her dramatic anger endearing.
HotJas : I am not actually. You're just over-dependent on me.
Dona: What.
HotJas : Yes, shorty, you are. Listen, I have a advice for you. Don't trust anybody. Especially not in a game of life or death.
Dona: I won't listen to a liar's word.
Ajax chuckled, thinking about how easy it was to tease her. HotJas : Gotta go back to class. Bye.
He exited the game, his mind already spinning toward school. He smiled softly, thinking about how utterly childish Dona was, slamming her phone down like that.
On the other side of the city, at a cafe hidden behind a bookstore, Dona stared at her screen. Wait. What did he call me before?
She scrolled up the chat history. ...Yes, shorty, you are.
A cold wave of realization washed over her. Shorty... She had only ever heard one person in her life use that incredibly specific, irritating nickname. It was the same cocky, confident voice she heard before . The smile she'd imagined on HotJas's face suddenly merged with the infuriatingly perfect smile of Ajax.
Her heart pounded, but not with romantic tension—with pure, icy dread. Her gaming partner, the only person she truly connected with online, was one of them.
The Exposed Truth
The courtyard of Brighton Wisdom School was buzzing with post-lunch energy. Han, Gabriella's cousin brother, looked impeccably polished in his tailored school uniform—a dark green blazer with silver buttons and a perfectly knotted tie. He was talking easily with a friend when a group of girls surrounded him, congratulating him on winning the interschool quiz competition.
Han smiled, radiating polite charm. He was the quiet, calculating force of the family.
"Honestly, Han, you are way braver than your sister," one girl giggled, slipping up. "Did you know she only escaped inches away from an accident yesterday? A falling chandelier, right here in the school!"
Han's polite smile vanished. His face went cold, and the vein in his forehead stood out clearly, a roadmap of mounting fury. His calm demeanor was a mask that had just been shattered.
"What happened exactly?" His voice was dangerously soft.
The girl recounted the whole event: how the giant, heavy chandelier in the main hall had suddenly detached during Gabriella's dance, and how Jake had rushed in at the last second, pulling her clear of the crushing impact.
Without a word, Han turned and ran, his perfectly tailored jacket flapping behind him. The congratulations and the noise of the crowd faded to a dull roar behind his roaring thoughts. It was an attack. He knew exactly who was responsible.
The Admission
The Outdoor Basketball Court was deserted. The cracked asphalt and rusted hoops made it an isolated, suitable place for a confrontation.
Raina was standing alone, her back to the fence, her dark green uniform looking sharp against the harsh backdrop. She was meticulously polished, her dark hair tied back, every part of her appearance screaming cold .
Han barged onto the court, calling her name. She turned, her expression shifting from boredom to mild irritation.
Before she could speak, Han was on her. He moved with a terrifying speed, his hand shooting out and grabbing her throat. It wasn't a chokehold, but a warning grip—hard enough to cut off her breath, gentle enough to let her know he was in complete control.
Raina didn't struggle. She didn't even gasp. Instead, she just glared at him, her eyes wide and icy, meeting his furious gaze.
"I had already warned you," Han ground out, his voice vibrating with suppressed violence. "Why did you try to kill Gabriella?"
Raina suddenly shoved his arm away with a strong, violent push that sent him staggering back a step. She scoffed, running a hand over the fabric where his fingers had been.
"Why? Are you insane?" she sneered. "Why are you blaming me for everything that happens to Gabriella? That chandelier was old. It's the school's fault, not mine."
Han stared back, his eyes burning with conviction. "I know you, Raina. More than others know."
Raina's lips curled into a sickening, slow smirk. "But you don't know everything about me."
"I won't believe you didn't do it," Han stated flatly.
Raina chuckled, a cold, brittle sound. "Sorry, but I won't prove for you that I didn't."
Han narrowed his eyes, his gaze dropping to her neck, where a tiny, white medical patch—the kind used for concealing shallow wounds—was barely visible beneath her collar.
"What happened to your neck?" he asked straightly.
Raina hesitated, touching the small badge. "Nothing."
"Is that you, then? Is that how you planned to harm Roselette Auntie?" Han pressed, stepping closer. "Don't try to lie, Raina. I saw the cutting mark on her neck, and I saw the same mark on your file. You used a decoy, didn't you?"
Raina suddenly panicked. Her perfect composure broke. She didn't know how to lie her way out of this.
Han grinned, a terrifyingly cold expression. "So. Gabriella counter-attacked you by setting an intruder in your mother's office."
"That's enough!" Raina roared, all pretense of elegance shattered.
"Then admit it," Han pushed. "So that's why you planned to murder my sister."
Raina's eyes turned into twin points of venom. Her shoulders rose, and she let out the admission like a battle cry.
"YES. I DID!" she screamed, stepping into his space. "And if she meddles with my affairs one more time, I won't guarantee you that your sister will continue to exist in this world!"
She showed him her curved, utterly chilling smile—the smile of a predator who had just been cornered.
Han widened his eyes, not in fear, but in cold, calculated rage. The game was no longer about revenge—it was about survival. He knew she was capable of anything. He had to decide, right now, if he would save his sister first, or end Raina for good.
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To be Continued...
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