Chapter 4 — The Storm Before the Break

981 Words
POV : Elena The suffocating weight of Jace’s gaze followed me all the way across the crowded floor. I kept my chin down, pushing past sweaty bodies and ignoring the stray glances from people who were too drunk to care but sober enough to whisper. My heart was a frantic drumbeat against my ribs as I finally reached the heavy oak doors of the library study. I practically threw myself inside, pulling the door shut until the thudding bass of the living room was completely blocked. The air in the library was cooler, smelling of old paper and leather. I found my laptop charger and textbook right where I had left them on the desk. Grabbing them tightly against my chest like a shield, I took a deep breath. Why was my heart beating so fast in the first place? It's not like I cared, I'll just walk back out. Go straight up the stairs and absolutely, under no circumstances look at him. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and pulled the door open, stepping back into the lions' den. The party had escalated even further. The air was thicker now, hazy with smoke and the sour sting of spilled liquor. I tried to hug the walls, using the large marble pillars to block myself from view, but the crowd near the center of the living room had shifted, bottlenecking right in front of the main staircase. Jace hadn't moved from his spot by the grand piano, but someone had arrived next to him. Camille Hayes. I knew because she was a popular young model here in LA, it was also said she went to Halden. Even in the middle of a chaotic college rager, Camille looked like she belonged on a runway. She was wearing a beautiful designer black dress that practically screamed old money, her blonde hair falling in perfect, glossy waves around her shoulders. From what I could hear from the crowd's whispers, she had been dating Jace for over a year, a relationship that the campus bloggers treated like a royal marriage. But right now, her flawless face was twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. I tried to slide past them, my boots pressing quietly against the hardwood, but the sudden drop in the room's volume stopped me. "Are you seriously going to play dumb right now, Jace?" Camille’s sharp voice cut through the noise, vibrating with a venomous intensity. Jace stood his ground, his large frame towering over her. He swirled the liquid in his red cup, his expression a mask of bored, lazy arrogance, though the tight muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed him. "Camille, don't do this here. You're making a scene." "Oh, I'm making a scene?" She laughed, a high, bitter sound that had several more heads turning. She pulled out her phone, aggressively thrusting the bright screen directly in front of his face. "Then explain this. Explain why three different girls from the Alpha Phi house have texts from your private burner number. Explain why the athletic board is suddenly getting anonymous tips about property damage at the downtown hotel last weekend!" My breath hitched. The room seemed to grow even tighter. At Halden University, the athletic scholarships weren't just about talent; they came with a ruthless, ironclad morality clause. If a player was caught in a toxic cheating scandal, or worse, linked to reckless behavior and destroyed property, the athletic department would drop them before the media could even catch wind of it. Jace’s lazy posture vanished in an instant. His gray eyes darkened, turning dangerous as he snatched the phone from her hand, his knuckles turning stark white under the glaring party lights. "I told you, that wasn't me. Someone is fabricating this s**t to tank my season." "Save it," Camille spat, her voice dripping with absolute disgust. She stepped closer, her perfectly manicured finger digging sharply into his chest. "I am not going to sit around and let your reckless, unstable baggage ruin my family's reputation. My father is one of the biggest donors to this university, Jace. If I tell him you're a liability, you're done." Jace didn't back down. He leaned in, his alpha jock pride flaring as his chest rose and fell with ragged breathing. "You think you own my career, Camille? Try me." "I don't need to try you. I'm finishing you," she whispered loudly enough for the entire inner circle to hear. She looked around the room, her eyes sweeping over his quiet, frozen teammates before landing squarely on him one last time. "We're done, Jace. And by Monday morning, the athletic board is going to see every single screenshot I have. Enjoy the captain's title while you still have it." She turned on her heel, her designer dress sweeping as she marched toward the front doors, shoving past two freshmen who didn't move out of her way fast enough. The heavy front doors slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the silent foyer. The music kept playing, but a heavy, awkward suffocating tension settled over the room. Jace stood completely frozen by the piano, his face darkened with terrifying rage. His pride had just been utterly shattered in his own home, in front of the very people who worshiped him. Nobody dared to speak to him, neither did anyone dare to even look at him. Except for me. I was still trying to sneak to the staircase, my laptop charger gripped so tightly against my chest that the plastic prongs were practically digging into my skin. As if sensing my presence through the dead silence of his anger, Jace's head snapped up. His gray eyes, wild and burning with a dangerous, unchecked fury, locked directly onto mine. His gaze pinned me to the spot, making every instinct in my body instantly scream at me to run.
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