When Derek opened the door and saw Veronica standing there, the afterglow of his triumph vanished like steam in winter air. Only seconds earlier he had been mentally celebrating his 24-hour victory, the steady profit cycle, the quiet promise that his life was about to change forever. But now, in the hallway of his Harvard dorm, all of that brightness dimmed. He drew in a slow breath, smoothed his expression, and forced himself to play it cool.
"Veronica," he said evenly. "What are you doing here?"
She gave a small, awkward smile, the kind she used when she wanted to appear vulnerable. "Aren't you going to let me in?"
For a moment, he considered it out of old habit—then shook it off. No. That was the kind of simple mistake he couldn't afford anymore. Not tonight. Not ever again for her.
"I'd rather we talk here," Derek said politely. "I don't want any misunderstandings."
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, as if the refusal was a foreign language she wasn't familiar with. Veronica Adams—Harvard's golden girl, used to people bending around her sunlight—had probably never heard a 'no' that wasn't sugar-coated.
"Oh." She recovered quickly. "Well… I just came to talk. I wanted to check on you. You've been ignoring me."
"I haven't ignored you," Derek replied calmly. "We broke up. It makes sense to give each other space."
She studied him quietly. Her eyes moved across his face, trying to decipher something—emotion, regret, longing. Anything.
"Do you…" she hesitated, "do you hate me because of the breakup?"
"No," he replied without pause.
She blinked, startled by the clarity of his answer.
"It was fine," he continued. "It was the right choice."
The shock on her face was almost comical, but Derek kept his expression neutral. Veronica was many things—beautiful, intelligent, socially impeccable. But self-aware? Not particularly. She wasn't used to being dismissed so easily.
"You're saying you didn't care?" she asked quietly. "Weren't you ever happy? At all?"
Derek stared at her for a moment. There was no anger in him, no lingering ache. Only a distant, tired sort of indifference.
"Yes," he said. "For a while. But our relationship…" He paused, searching for the right way to express the truth. "Our relationship was just a spec in the span of my life."
Something shifted in her expression—hurt, disbelief, maybe even a flash of insecurity she would never admit to having.
To Veronica, Derek's demeanor felt wrong. Alien. This wasn't the sweet, thoughtful boy she once dated. This was a stranger, someone polished and cold, someone who had drifted beyond her reach and didn't care to return. She had come expecting guilt, lingering affection, maybe a hint of emotional collapse. Instead she found… nothing.
And nothing wounded her more.
He noticed the change in her posture, her attempt to regain control, the way she drew in a breath as though preparing for a performance.
"Well," she said, lifting her chin slightly, "I thought you should know that I'm seeing someone now."
Derek didn't react.
"He's in the law department," she continued, forcing breezy confidence into her voice. "His name is Chad. His father is one of Harvard's top donors."
There it was—the bait. The expected sting. The attempt to provoke jealousy, remorse, something.
Derek sighed quietly. "Was that the reason you came?"
Veronica froze. She hadn't expected the dismissal. Not like that. People were supposed to react to her—men especially. They were supposed to fight for her, argue, get emotional, prove that she mattered. Derek's calmness felt like a slap.
"I have work to do," he said bluntly. "It would be better if we don't contact each other anymore."
Her mouth parted slightly. "Derek, wait—"
He closed the door before she could finish.
A silence settled over his room. He stood there for a moment, breathing slowly, letting the quiet wash over him. He didn't feel triumphant. He didn't feel cruel. He just felt… done. Veronica belonged to the past, and the past had no claim on him anymore.
He returned to his desk where Pandora hummed softly in the background, the encrypted system he spent hours crafting now running cleanly, smoothly. His new life was beginning. He had no room left for people who held him back.
But across campus, Veronica was coming apart.
By the time she reached her dorm building, her footsteps were sharp and fast. Her chest tightened with every step, humiliation blooming like fire under her skin. She slammed her door shut behind her and tossed her bag onto her bed.
Humiliated. That was the only word for it.
She had gone there expecting at least some emotional reaction from him. Maybe anger. Maybe desperation. But Derek had treated her like a stranger who'd interrupted his evening.
Worse—like someone beneath his attention.
She didn't want to admit it, not even in her own mind, but she was the kind of girl who thrived on being wanted. On being chased. On having attention orbit around her like planets around a star. It was how she maintained her position, her confidence, her sense of worth.
And Derek… Derek had cut her off without blinking.
She replayed his words in her mind—just a spec in the span of my life—and fury twisted in her stomach. No one spoke to her that way. No one dismissed her.
Her pride demanded retaliation.
She grabbed her phone from the dresser and, without hesitating, dialed Chad's number. He answered in three rings.
"Hey, Veronica," Chad said, voice smooth, rich with faux concern. "Everything okay?"
"No," she said immediately, adding a trembling breath for effect. "It's Derek. He—he came to my room again. He's been harassing me ever since the breakup."
A complete lie. But Chad didn't know that. And Veronica knew exactly which strings to pull.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
Silence filled the line—then a low growl.
"I'm coming over," Chad said. "No one bothers you. Not on my watch."
Veronica sank onto her bed, satisfaction curling through her.
Derek had rejected her.
Fine.
She would make him regret it.