Beneath her powdered crown

The heavy glass doors of Crestwood University’s Grand Hall swung open, and Vivienne Vance stepped onto the polished marble with absolute poise. She adjusted her vintage sunglasses, her glossy lips curved into a practiced, untouchable smirk. Around her, quiet whispers rippled through the sea of incoming students. ​"Is that the Vance Cosmetics heiress?" someone murmured nearby. "I heard her family's line is dominating the market," another added. Vivienne let the quiet awe wash over her like fine champagne. Let them stare. Vance Cosmetics was a household name, even if the old-money elites at Crestwood looked down on luxury beauty brands. What did she care? To Vivienne, looking flawless was her ultimate weapon, and money meant absolute control. ​Suddenly, a sharp shoulder slammed hard into Vivienne’s side, throwing her off balance for a brief second. Vivienne caught herself, her eyes flashing with instant ice as she turned. Standing there was a girl in a preppy designer cardigan, holding a cup of iced coffee and sneering openly at her. It was Nina—one of Chloe and Gemma’s closest, most loyal sidekicks. ​"Oh, oops," Nina drawled, her voice dripping with fake, exaggerated innocence that barely masked her smug satisfaction. "I didn't see you standing there, Vivienne. Though I guess when you're riding on your stepmother's money, you expect everyone to clear the path for you." ​A few surrounding students gasped softly, picking up on the immediate tension. Nina crossed her arms, tilting her head with a cruel smirk. Chloe and Gemma had clearly sent their lapdog to test Vivienne's boundaries the second she set foot on campus. ​"My stepmother doesn't own a single hair on my head, Nina," Vivienne said coldly, stepping closer until she towered over the girl with suffocating elegance. She clicked open her gold compact mirror, checking her lipstick without giving Nina the dignity of eye contact. "And my bag costs more than your entire tuition for the semester. Next time you decide to act as Chloe’s mouthpiece, try doing it with better posture." ​Nina’s smug smirk instantly vanished, her face flushing a deep, embarrassed red as a few bystanders giggled under their breath. "You think you're so above everyone," Nina spat out, taking an embarrassed step back. "Just wait until Chloe and Gemma take over the Vance board. You won't be laughing then." ​"I'm not laughing now, darling," Vivienne purred, snapping her compact shut with a sharp, echoing click. "I'm bored. Get out of my sight." ​Humiliated, Nina turned on her heel and hurried off into the crowd. Vivienne held her head high, but beneath her cool exterior, a familiar, bitter knot tightened in her stomach. Eleanor’s reach was already spreading into Crestwood through her stepsisters and their poisonous little circle. ​"Is that standard procedure for you? Scaring off the snakes before they can bite?" ​The voice wasn't aggressive or taunting. It was calm, deep, and held a quiet weight that made Vivienne freeze in her tracks. She turned slowly, sliding her sunglasses down her nose to look at the intruder. ​Standing near the grand staircase was Jude, the university's enigmatic art instructor, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit without a single crease. He wasn't surrounded by students or posturing with cheap arrogance. Instead, his dark grey eyes were remarkably clear, looking at her not with judgment, but with an unsettling, observant intensity. ​Vivienne lifted her chin, putting up her usual impenetrable shield. "I don't recall asking for a psych evaluation from the art department. Mind your own business." ​Jude didn't flinch. He simply stepped closer, stopping at a respectful distance. "Your stepsisters are making moves, Vivienne. Sending Nina was just a taste. But wearing your pride like heavy armor against every attack is going to exhaust you eventually." ​Vivienne’s breath caught in her throat. Something in his honest eyes struck a nerve deep inside her—a part of her that felt completely isolated and exhausted from maintaining her family's fragile image. ​Before she could spit out a snappy comeback, Jude gave her a polite, sharp nod. "Welcome to Crestwood, Vivienne. Keep your eyes open." ​He turned and walked calmly toward the administrative wing, leaving Vivienne standing in the grand hall—her heart hammering against her ribs, completely disarmed by the man who seemed to see right through her defenses.