Chapter 21__ Violet Strikes Back and Andrea's Return
When Gloria was expelled, the storm at Imperial High quieted.
For a while, at least.
Andrea's more extreme fans kept their heads down, finally realizing that actions had consequences.
But not all storms fade peacefully—some simply go silent before they strike again.
And Clara De'ora was already gathering her thunder.
Grace.
Rose.
Kika.
Sophia.
Four foolish girls, bound by guilt and anger, desperate to avenge their fallen friend, Gloria.
They thought they were acting on loyalty.
They didn't realize they'd just become pieces on Clara's chessboard.
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A week later, Violet received a message from her homeroom teacher:
"Come to the storeroom to help collect some books."
She didn't think twice.
She walked down the long, echoing corridor—light flickering faintly against the walls—while, behind her, the faint sound of footsteps followed.
The moment Violet stepped inside,
click!
The lock turned.
Silence.
She stood there for a moment, eyes narrowing.
Then she exhaled softly.
"Ah… so it's this kind of day."
"Host," Vira's voice crackled in her head, deadpan, "are these girls allergic to logic?
What do they think will happen after you get out? You'll just report them!"
"Let's get out first," Violet muttered, already pulling out her phone.
"Ha! They didn't even check if you had it!"
Vira cackled.
"Rookie move."
Violet dialed quickly.
"Victoria, I'm locked in the storeroom down the hallway.
Get Miss Irena—bring the keys."
"What?! Stay calm, I'm coming!"
Ten minutes later, the door swung open.
Light flooded in.
Victoria, Emery, and Miss Irena stood there, wide-eyed.
"Violet, what happened?" the teacher demanded.
Violet brushed the dust off her uniform.
"I got a message from you, ma'am.
It said to collect some books here."
Miss Irena's brow furrowed.
"From me?"
And then realization hit her like a slap.
Earlier that day, a student had come saying the principal wanted to see her.
She'd left her phone behind on her desk—just for a moment—and when she returned, the student was gone.
Now she knew exactly what had happened.
"That student used my phone to send that message…" she muttered darkly.
But Violet wasn't angry.
Her expression was unreadable—cool, quiet, too calm.
"Do they ever remember there are CCTVs in this school?" Vira sighed dramatically.
"Like, hello? Cameras? Everywhere?"
The footage confirmed it all.
The student who had borrowed Miss Irena's phone walked straight to Class 1B—where Clara and the other girls were waiting.
Five hands came together in a victorious high-five,after violet was locked up.
"Host," Vira said with a snort, "your sister's so dramatic.
Like, at least pick better minions."
Miss Irena's jaw clenched.
She was ready to report them immediately, but Violet placed a gentle hand on her sleeve.
"Miss Irena," she said softly, "if you tell the principal, they'll be expelled.
They're still young, we're all still young.
Let's not ruin their lives for something so stupid."
The teacher stared at her, speechless.
Most students would've demanded punishment, revenge—something.
But Violet…
Violet wanted to play.
"You're… too kind," Miss Irena whispered.
"Host," Vira hissed, "you just don't want the game with your sister to end yet, huh?"
"Of course not," Violet said, lips curling.
"She's the only thing keeping this school entertaining."
Later that afternoon, Mr. Ian—the teacher in charge of Class 1B—heard everything.
He was furious.
But after hearing Violet's request, he agreed to help.
Each of the five girls received an errand. One to the equipment room, another to the library, another to the basement archive.
Each walked in, unsuspecting.
Each door locked behind them.
No phones.
No light.
Just silence.
Two long hours passed.
When Mr. Ian finally opened the doors, most of the girls came out with tear-streaked faces, red eyes, trembling hands.
All except one.
Clara De'ora stepped out without a single hair out of place.
Calm.
Composed.
Smiling.
When they were gathered together again, Mr. Ian's voice thundered.
"You girls should be ashamed! Do you understand what could have happened? Do you realize how easily you could've been expelled?"
The girls nodded, pale and sniffling, muttering apologies to Violet.
But Clara?
She simply looked across the hallway, her gaze finding Violet's.
Neither spoke.
The silence between them was sharper than any words could ever be.
Clara's lips curved into the faintest smirk.
Violet's eyes glimmered—cold, calculating—as the corner of her mouth lifted.
"Host," Vira whispered, "I feel like this was just round one."
"Because it was," Violet murmured back. "And the real game? It's about to begin."
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After that whole incident with the five girls, the entire school couldn't stop talking.
Violet didn't report them — even though she could have.
With all the proof she had, those girls could have easily been expelled, but she didn't do it.
That alone shocked everyone.
At first, they started calling her Untouchable, but after what she did, the name changed.
Now, everyone was calling her The Iron Lady.
And later, when they found out she spared her bullies, the name changed again —
The Iron Lady with a Kind Heart.
When Violet heard of the nickname, she didn't care much.
She just smiled to herself and went back to studying.
Titles never meant anything to her.
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A few days later, Miss Irene came into class with her usual click-clack heels and that "I have news" expression.
"Five months from now, there'll be a Global Mathematics Competition among first years from all major schools," she announced.
"Our class gets to send three students.
We'll have a quick test today to decide who."
Of course, everyone groaned.
Except Violet. She just sat straighter, a little spark lighting up in her eyes.
By the next morning, the results were out.
Violet came first.
Emery was second.
And Jeff Breeze came third.
The three were immediately taken out of the regular class and placed in a special prep group.
For the next five months, it was all math — morning to night.
No distractions.
No excuses.
Imperial High doesn't aim for second place.
While Violet was drowning in numbers and formulas, Andrea's fans finally decided to calm down… at least when it came to her.
But instead of focusing on their grades like normal students, they redirected their nonsense — straight toward April and Victoria.
Violet had no idea.
Her life for those months was quiet — peaceful even.
But for April and Victoria, it was something else entirely.
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One sleepy afternoon, April went to rinse her face in the bathroom after nodding off in class.
She bent over the sink, and before she could blink, someone shoved her head straight into the water.
Her forehead hit the faucet.
The pain was instant.
That was the moment something inside April snapped.
She grabbed the girl's hair, yanked her back, and dragged her into the toilet stall.
With one swift move, she pushed the girl's face straight into the toilet seat — one that had just been flushed.
"You like drowning people?" she said coldly. "Let's see how you like the smell of your own karma."
After that day, the girl couldn't even look at April without shaking.
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Victoria who joined the junior swimming club, was supposed to represent Imperial High in an upcoming tournament.
But right before the competition, her name mysteriously disappeared from the list.
When she found out who erased it — a girl from Clara's class — Victoria didn't even raise her voice.
She simply smiled, picked up her phone, and made a call.
The next morning, the entire Imperial High junior team was disqualified.
Chaos.
Panic.
Teachers running everywhere.
No one knew what happened until someone whispered,
"It was Victoria Crescent."
When they confronted her, she just said,
"If my name's not there, then there's no team at all."
The principal had no choice but to fix it.
Victoria's name was reinstated, the saboteur disqualified, and the school allowed to compete again.
Andrea's uncle, the principal, could only sigh.
"What kind of ancestors are these children?" he muttered.
"Every year it's chaos.
But this year… this year is more like a battlefield ."
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So while Violet's days were quiet — full of books, formulas, and peaceful evenings — her friends were fighting their own little battles.
Five months later, the Imperial High math team finally returned.
Andrea, their captain, walked in first — medals shining.
They didn't just come back.
They came back with Victory.
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The moment Andrea and his team came back, he didn't even wait for the ceremony to end.
Leaving the trophy in Dannon's hands, he went straight off in search of his "wife."
Violet had heard rumors that Andrea's group might return earlier than scheduled—but she never expected it to be today.
When the whispers spread across the campus, Vira couldn't help herself.
Vira: Host, your husband will be back soon!
Violet: What husband? she screamed inwardly.
Vira: Your self-proclaimed husband.
Why are you so flustered, host?
Violet: Shut up, she snapped, trying to calm her racing heart.
Vira: Ttch.
I won't expose you, host. But I do know you missed him.
Violet: Do you want to die?
Vira: Sorry, host.
After a moment of silence, Vira spoke again, softer this time.
Host… if he learns what you went through while he was gone, what will he do?
Violet blinked, her fingers tightening around the book in her hands.
"I don't know," she muttered aloud.
"Whatever he does is none of my business.
They're his fans—how he takes care of his fans is his choice."
She was still lost in thought when a hand suddenly slipped around her waist from behind, pulling her into a firm chest.
Startled, Violet spun around—and bam!
The book in her hand connected squarely with someone's head.
"Ouch!" the familiar voice groaned.
Andrea clutched his head, wincing.
"Wife, you're still as violent as ever."
Violet froze.
The voice.
The face.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She rushed forward, dropping the book, and gently touched his forehead.
"Are you okay?"
Andrea's lips curved into that maddening grin,his heart being filled with honey.
"So wife does care about me, huh? I missed you," he murmured—and before she could retreat, his arms came around her again, drawing her close.
As he hugged her tightly.