Isabelle's Pov
A few weeks in, I was finally starting to understand how St. Aurelia really worked.
On the surface I was the perfect scholarship student, head down, grades up, violin in hand. But underneath, Arabella and her pack had turned social isolation into an exact science. They didn't just trip me in the halls. They spread rumors like poison, that I was "climbing" the elite ladder by using Julien, my past was some kind of scandal, I didn't know my place.
I tried to let it slide. I'd survived freezing winters with empty cupboards back at Saint Brigitte's; I could handle rich girls whispering behind manicured hands.
But today something snapped inside me.
Something I hadn't done before.
It felt like I was possessed, like someone else had taken over my body and decided today was the day I stopped shrinking.
And that someone picked Dmitri Volkov as the one to finally push back against.
Dmitri's pov
I had been hearing her name everywhere, every turn, every corner, the library, the classrooms, even my own sanctuary on the basketball court. It was a splinter under my fingernail. Isabelle Duval this, Isabelle Duval that. The girl who wouldn't look at the floor. The girl who publicly rejected me. I hadn't forgotten the way she'd stood in the library and dropped my expensive gift back on the table like it was trash. "I don't want them," she had said. No one ever said "no" to a Volkov, yet she had looked at my peace offering and my threat and walked away without a backward glance.
It grated on me, a glitch in the perfect, terrified machinery of the school I commanded. I felt the eyes of the other students wondering why the girl with the red hair was still standing, why she hadn't been broken yet.
By the time I reached the courtyard, my patience hadn't just snapped, it had disintegrated. The rumors about me cheating were just the excuse I needed to finally let my frustration out.
The air in the courtyard was thick and stale. I could feel the eyes on me, the usual mix of worship and shaking hands but today, there was a new sound. Doubt.
"I heard his father bought the answers to the medical practicals," a voice had hissed in the hall earlier. "No one's that perfect without a checkbook behind them."
That was the spark. My hands were curled so tight my fingernails dug into my palms. The "composed" mask I'd worn since I was a child was fraying. I marched through the hallway, my boots slamming against the stone.
I found the source in the center of the courtyard, Louis Martel. He was surrounded by a small crowd, looking far too proud of his own mouth. He didn't see me until my shadow hit him.
I didn't say a word. I lunged, grabbing a handful of his blazer and slamming his back against the base of the marble statue.
"Say it again," I hissed. "Tell me how I cheated, Louis. Go on."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about!" his face went a sickly, chalky grey.
I slammed him against the marble again. Crack. The sound of his head hitting the stone was sickeningly satisfying. "Lie to me again, I dare you" I dared him.
Louis found a sudden, stupid surge of bravery. "I just know no one is that smart!" he spat, his voice cracking. "Your grades are high because the teachers are terrified of your father! This whole school is just a Volkov playground!"
I didn't spare him a second. My fist connected with his jaw, a dull, heavy thud that sent him spinning into the dirt. I kicked him in the ribs, a hard, calculated strike. I wanted to break the doubt out of him. I wanted them all to remember why they stayed quiet.
Adrien tried to grab my shoulder. "Dmitri, stop. You'll get expelled."
"Get your hands off me!" I roared, smacking Adrien's hands off my shoulder. I'm not done yet.
Thwack.
Something small and crumpled hit me right in the center of my chest. I froze. The world seemed to tilt. I looked down at the balled-up piece of paper on the cobblestones, then slowly, slowly lifted my head.
"Stop it!"
"You are hurting him."
It was her. Isabelle. Her violin case was slung over her shoulder and her eyes were burning with a fire that actually made me pause.
I marched toward her, the crowd splitting open like I was made of fire. I shoved two guys out of my way, my vision narrowing until she was the only thing I could see. I reached out and snatched the violin case out of her hand.
I stepped right into her space, my shoulder brushing hers, looming over her until she had to crane her neck back to look at me.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I snarled. "What gave you the right to put your hands on me?"
"You've got a death wish, Duval," I whispered angrily. "First the strings, now this? You think playing the hero is going to make these people like you? You're just giving them a front-row seat to your funeral."
"I'm not playing the hero. You are hurting him. If I didn't stop you, you could have broken his ribs or worse," she said.
"Shut your mouth. You don't know the whole story so I suggest you pick up your little toy and leave," I hissed.
She flinched. But still wouldn't budge. Most people would be shaking or crying but she just stood there, her chest heaving with sharp, angry breaths.
"Is this what it takes to make students fear you, Dmitri? By beating them to a pulp in public, making the rest of the students watch because you wanted to prove a point. It's pathetic! You're not a prince and you're not a leader. You're just a bully with a famous last name who picks on the weak because you're too small to handle a few words."
A collective gasp sucked the air out of the courtyard. No one…no one…had ever called a Volkov a bully to his face. Ever.
My eyes flashed with a raw fury. I let out a sharp laugh.
"You think he's the victim?" I leaned down, my face inches from hers. "You're standing up for a snake, Duval. He spent the last forty-eight hours trying to dismantle my name with lies because his father lost a board seat to mine. He's a parasite and you're playing the hero for a boy who would sell you out for a nickel."
"I don't care what he said!" She shot back, her voice rising to meet mine. "Nothing justifies this. You have everything, money, status, power and yet you still feel the need to stoop to grinding someone into the dirt just to feel tall. You're so obsessed with your reputation that it's turning you into a monster. You're arrogant, you're cruel and you're a coward."
The word coward hit the courtyard like a grenade. The students around us actually backed away, their faces pale.
My jaw tightened until a muscle jumped in my cheek. I was trembling with the sheer effort of not exploding.
"You have no idea how this world works," I whispered, my eyes boring into hers. "You come in here with your orphanage morals and your gutter 'honesty,' acting like you're better than us. You just stood in front of the entire school and humiliated me to protect a liar. You think you're being brave? You're being a fool."
"I'd rather be a fool than a tyrant," she snapped.
I stared at her, trying to understand where she got the nerve.
"Fine," I said quietly. "You want to be the hero? You've got the role. But remember this, Isabelle: when you stand in front of someone like me to protect a snake, you're the one who gets bitten first."
I took a slow step back, trying to get my breath under control but the damage was done. I looked around the courtyard. They were looking at Isabelle with a terrifying, unified hatred. By standing up to me, she had broken the only rule that mattered.
"Pick up your toy," I muttered, glancing at her violin. "And enjoy the silence. Because after today, it's the only friend you're going to have in this school."
I turned and walked away, my skin crawling. Adrien stayed for a second, looking at Isabelle with a mix of pity and warning. He knew what was coming. The school was about to become a very lonely place for her.
As I walked away, the silence in the courtyard broke. Not with cheers for Isabelle but with the sound of people backing away.
"Did you see that? She actually touched him," a girl whispered, her eyes wide with horror.
"She's insane," another muttered, moving as if Isabelle were contagious. "She just signed her own death warrant."
Isabelle's Pov
I stood right in the middle of the courtyard, ignoring the death glares I was getting. The silence wasn't peaceful. It was loud. Too loud. Everyone who'd been staring took one step back, then another until there was this perfect empty ring around me. Ten feet of nothing in every direction.
The whispers started like flies buzzing.
"She really called him a coward."
"She's lost her mind."
"She just painted a target on her own back."
Louis Martel pushed himself up off the ground. For half a second I thought maybe he'd at least look at me, say thank you, or sorry, or anything.
He didn't.
His eyes met mine, huge, scared and then he turned and ran the other way like being near me would burn him alive.
No one came closer. No one even looked me in the face.
I bent down slowly, picked up my case, ran my thumb over the latches to make sure they were still shut. My fingers were shaking so bad I almost dropped it again. Then I started walking.
The empty circle moved with me like a shadow, people stepping aside, turning their backs, the whispers chasing after me like smoke.
I kept putting one foot in front of the other, pretending my knees weren't about to give out, pretending the ache in my chest wasn't trying to swallow me whole.
In St. Aurelia, enemies didn't last long.
And I'd just made myself impossible to miss.