Back to Campus
1817 Words
Tuesday morning, I stood in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear for my return to campus.
The clothes Silas had bought hung beside my old things. Designer jeans next to Target clearance. Cashmere sweaters beside cotton hoodies. Two different lives in one closet.
I chose somewhere in between. Good jeans, nice sweater, boots that cost more than they should but weren't obviously expensive. The necklace Silas had given me, the key pendant, rested against my collarbone. His ring stayed on my finger.
Visible claims, but subtle.
"Ready?" Julian appeared in my doorway. He was driving me to campus, playing the boyfriend role for anyone watching.
"As I'll ever be."
Downstairs, Thomas waited by the car with another security guard I didn't recognize.
"This is Marcus," Thomas said. "He'll be on campus with you. Posing as a student. You won't always see him, but he'll be close."
"Great. My own personal stalker."
"Your own personal protection," Silas corrected, appearing from his office. He walked over, adjusted my necklace so it sat perfectly. "Remember what we discussed. You don't owe anyone explanations. You're polite but firm. And if anyone makes you uncomfortable--"
"I tell Thomas. I know." I looked up at him. "I'm going to be fine."
"I know you are." He kissed my forehead. "But humor me. Let me worry."
Julian cleared his throat. "We should go. Elena has Art History at ten."
The drive to campus was quiet. Julian's hand rested on my thigh, his thumb tracing absent patterns.
"You nervous?" he asked.
"A little. People are going to stare. They're going to have questions."
"Let them stare. Let them wonder." He glanced at me. "You're Elena Chen. You're dating a father and son. You're the most interesting person on this campus. Own it."
"Is that what you're doing? Owning it?"
"I'm trying to. It helps that every guy here is going to be jealous as hell." He pulled into the parking lot. "You ready for this?"
"No. But I'm doing it anyway."
We got out. Immediately, heads turned. Whispers started.
Julian's arm went around my waist, pulling me close. "Ignore them."
We walked toward the arts building. I could feel eyes on us. Phones coming out. People not even pretending not to stare.
"Elena!" A familiar voice called out.
I turned to see Jess, my roommate from before I moved to the mansion. She jogged over, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Oh my God, you're alive. I've been texting you for days."
"I know. I'm sorry. Things have been crazy."
"I saw the press conference. And the photos before that. Are you okay? Do you need help?" Her eyes flicked to Julian, then back to me. "Seriously, if you're in trouble, you can tell me."
"I'm not in trouble. I'm fine. Really."
"You're dating Silas Kingston. Who's like, forty-five. And also Julian Kingston. Who's standing right here." She looked at Julian. "No offense."
"None taken," Julian said smoothly. "Elena and I are together. My father and I have worked out our differences regarding her. It's unconventional, but it works for us."
Jess's eyes went wide. "So the rumors are true? You're actually with both of them?"
I took a breath. "Yes. I'm with both of them. It's complicated, but I'm happy. And I'd really appreciate it if we could just be friends like before without making this weird."
"Without making it weird? Elena, you're in a relationship with a father and son. That's literally the definition of weird." But her voice softened. "But if you're really okay, if you're safe and this is what you want, then okay. I support you. Even if I think you're insane."
"Fair enough."
"Do you want to grab coffee later? Actually catch up?"
"I'd like that." I pulled out my new phone. "What's your number? I had to change phones."
We exchanged numbers. Jess hugged me, whispered in my ear, "Seriously, if you need an escape route, I'm here. Always."
"I know. Thank you."
She left, and Julian guided me toward the building. "That went better than expected."
"One down. Entire campus to go."
Art History was in the same lecture hall as before. I walked in with Julian, and the room went silent.
Professor Mills looked up from her notes. "Miss Chen. Mr. Kingston. How nice of you to join us."
We took seats near the back. The whispers started immediately.
Throughout the lecture, I could feel people staring. Taking photos when they thought I wasn't looking. Texting each other about me being there.
Professor Mills tried to continue normally, but even she kept glancing our way.
When class ended, she called out, "Miss Chen, can I see you for a moment?"
Julian squeezed my hand. "I'll wait outside."
I walked down to her desk.
Professor Mills waited until the room cleared. "Elena, I feel obligated to ask. Are you alright? The photos that were released, the press conference, the rumor, it's concerning."
"I'm fine, Professor. Really."
"You understand that if you're being coerced in any way, there are resources. People who can help."
"I'm not being coerced. I know it looks strange from the outside, but I'm making my own choices. I'm safe."
She studied me for a long moment. "Alright. But my door is always open. If you need to talk, about anything, I'm here."
"Thank you."
I left and found Julian waiting in the hallway with Marcus, the security guard, standing a discrete distance away.
"How'd it go?" Julian asked.
"She thinks I'm being coerced."
"Are you?"
I looked at him. "Do you think I am?"
"No. I think you're getting exactly what you want. Even if you haven't fully admitted to yourself what that is yet." He checked his watch. "You have three hours before your next class. Want to grab lunch?"
"Actually, I was thinking of going to the library. I have a paper to work on."
"Okay. I'll come with you."
"Julian, you don't have to babysit me."
"I'm not babysitting. I'm spending time with my girlfriend on campus. Like a normal college couple." He grinned. "Well, normal except for the part where I share you with my father."
We walked to the library, Marcus following at a distance. Inside, Julian found us a study room on the third floor. The same floor where he'd shown me Silas's documents that day that felt like a lifetime ago.
"This feel familiar?" he asked, closing the door behind us.
"Too familiar."
He pulled me close, his hands on my waist. "You know what else feels familiar? Being alone with you. Having you all to myself for a few minutes."
"Julian, we're in the library."
"So? It's a private study room. Door has a lock." His mouth found my neck. "And I've been thinking all morning about how good you looked last night. How you sounded. How you felt."
Heat pooled low in my stomach. "We can't. Not here."
"Why not? You afraid of getting caught?" His hand slid under my sweater. "Or is that part of the thrill?"
Before I could answer, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, frowned.
"It's my father. He wants me back at the house. Some meeting about the Dante situation."
"You should go."
"I don't want to leave you here alone."
"I'm not alone. Marcus is outside. And I actually do have work to do." I kissed him. "Go. I'll be fine."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. But text me when you're done. I'll come pick you up."
"Deal."
After he left, I actually did try to work on my paper. But my mind kept wandering.
To Dante's message. To the cameras he claimed to have. To the secret I was keeping from both Silas and Julian.
I needed to figure out my next move. Needed to--
A knock on the study room door interrupted my thoughts.
Through the window, I saw Mason. The guy from Art History who'd asked me out before all this started.
I opened the door. "Hey."
"Hey. Saw you in class this morning. Thought I'd say hi." He glanced around. "Where's your... boyfriend? Boyfriends?"
"Julian had to leave. What's up?"
"I wanted to apologize. For that day in class when I asked you out. I had no idea you were already involved with the Kingstons. If I'd known--"
"It's fine. You didn't know."
"Right. Well, anyway, I just wanted to say I'm glad you're back on campus. Things were boring without you." He smiled. "And if you ever need a study partner for Contemporary Art, I'm around."
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
He left, and I closed the door, shaking my head.
Study partner. Right.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Making friends already? Does Julian know you're entertaining other men? Or should I tell him? - D
I looked around the study room. The windows. The door. Where was he watching from?
Another text.
Dante: The camera in the study room is in the smoke detector. Northeast corner. Smile for me, Elena.
My eyes went to the smoke detector. A tiny lens, barely visible.
He was watching me right now.
I typed back: What do you want?
Dante: To meet. Tomorrow. Just you and me. Or I release the video from your little threesome Sunday night. Every explicit second of it. Think your mother would enjoy watching that?
My hands shook.
Me: Where?
Dante: I'll send you the address tonight. Come alone. Tell the Kingstons and the deal is off. I'll release everything.
The typing indicator appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again.
Dante: And Elena? Wear something pretty. I want you to look good when I finally get my hands on you.
The message ended.
I sat there, staring at my phone, my heart pounding.
This was it. The moment I had to decide.
Tell Silas and Julian, let them handle it, risk Dante releasing everything.
Or go alone, walk into whatever trap he'd set, and hope I could handle it myself.
I looked up at the smoke detector. At the camera watching me.
And I smiled.
Because Dante had just made a mistake.
He'd shown me where one of his cameras was.
Which meant I could find the others.
And once I knew where they all were, I could turn his own surveillance against him.
I just needed time.
And to buy that time, I needed to play along.
I deleted the messages, packed up my things, and left the library.
Marcus fell into step beside me as I walked to my next class.
"Everything alright, Miss Chen?"
"Perfect," I lied. "Everything's perfect."
But in my pocket, my phone felt like it was burning.
Tomorrow, I'd meet Dante.
Tomorrow, I'd walk into danger alone.
Tomorrow, I'd prove I wasn't just a prize to be won.
I was a player.
And I was done playing by anyone's rules but my own.
- Writer
