HER RECKONING

CHAPTER 9

The S-Class gathered in the Diamond Room — all except Trunks, as usual. The air was heavy with chatter, laughter, and that thin veil of superiority only they could pull off.

“So, you finally lost to Angelique?” Ryan teased, leaning back with a smug grin.

“At least I’m not a r@pist… allegedly,” Suhee shot back, her voice calm, her tone razor-sharp.

“Hey! Stop that. I’m innocent!” Ryan protested, his face twisting in mock outrage.

“And I’m the Queen of England,” Suhee said flatly, taking a sip of her drink.

“Ah, can you both just shut up? My head’s pounding,” Alejandro groaned, rubbing his temples.

Ryan turned back to Suhee. “Seriously though, what are you planning to do now?”

“Nothing,” Suhee said simply. “He made his choice. I respect it.”

Ryan sighed. “If I were you, I wouldn’t let that slide.”

Suhee caught sight of Cornelia smiling dreamily beside her. “Why are you smiling like that, Connie?”

“I found the love of my life,” Cornelia said, eyes glittering. The rest of the group turned to her, baffled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alejandro muttered, unimpressed.

“I met him! He’s a Nigerian prince. His name is Mussa. Look how handsome he is!” she said proudly, flashing his pictures on her phone.

Laughter erupted instantly.

“You can’t be serious,” Ryan said, nearly choking.

“That’s obviously a scam,” Suhee said.

“No, it’s not! I promise you!” Cornelia defended.

“Have you ever video-called him?” Alejandro asked, half amused, half exasperated.

“No… when I wanted to, he was on a plane to the Bahamas,” she said innocently.

“And where did you say he’s from again?” Suhee asked.

“Nigeria. Abuja.”

“You better block him, Connie. The earlier, the better,” Suhee advised dryly.

Cornelia frowned. “They’re all just jealous I have a prince and they don’t,” she muttered under her breath.

A few minutes later, Suhee excused herself to the restroom.

While she was gone, the door swung open — and Angelique stepped in.

“All of you, out. I want to be alone,” she said, her voice steady but laced with arrogance.

Alejandro looked up, unfazed. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Trunks’ girlfriend,” she replied confidently.

Cornelia raised a brow. “And you think that gives you the right to set your dirty feet in here?”

Alejandro waved dismissively. “Get out, you’re wasting our time.”

Angelique smirked. “I don’t think you heard me. I said I’m Trunks’ girlfriend. He’s number one on the Diamond Board — the king of the school — which makes this room his. And since everything he owns is mine…” she said, eyes glinting, “that makes me the queen of this school.”

The room went quiet.

Suhee, who had heard the last part from the doorway, walked in gracefully. “You might want to ask your boyfriend to explain how the hierarchy of the Gems actually works before making claims like that.”

“The… Gems?” Angelique frowned.

“Oh, you’re unaware?” Suhee tilted her head, smiling with icy composure. “The S-Class are called the Gems. Each Gem has a rank — a meaning. When you understand what the Gems represent, who holds which one, and where you truly stand, then — and only then — can you come back to this room.”

She stepped closer, voice low but cutting. “Until then, please… grace us with your absence.”

Angelique’s face flushed with anger as she stormed out.

“That b***h really needed someone to shut her up,” Alejandro muttered once the door closed. “Where the hell did she think she was?”

“How dare she call herself queen?” Cornelia said.

“See why I told you not to give up on Trunks?” Ryan added.

Suhee crossed her arms, calm and unbothered. “I left her Trunks, but I’ll never leave her my title. Until I graduate, the only queen of Stanton will be me.”

Later that day, Angelique sat alone in the park, the scene replaying endlessly in her mind.

Humiliation burned through her chest. How could Suhee embarrass her like that? Why hadn’t Trunks told her about the Gems? What made Suhee so untouchable — the exclusive queen of Stanton University?

She was so deep in thought she barely felt the hand that landed gently on her shoulder.

She turned — and saw Ryan.

“Reclaiming the title of queen, huh?” he said coolly. “I always knew you were cunning, but now I can see the vice in your eyes.”

Angelique frowned. “What do you want?”

“An alliance,” he said simply. “I can give you information — exclusive information — about Trunks and Suhee. Things that could help you separate them completely… and make you the queen of Stanton.”

Angelique tilted her head. “And what’s your reason for betraying your friends so easily?”

Ryan smiled faintly. “Let’s just say we both want to see Suhee fall.”

She smirked. “Then I guess I’ll call you Judas.”

“You can,” Ryan replied. “And I’ll call you Viper.”

They shared one last dark, knowing smile — before turning away in opposite directions.

Angelique returned to the apartment to find Pavitra out and the living room overflowing with shopping bags — perfume boxes, ribbons, and designer paper stamped with gold. Her lips curved. It was certainly Trunks. She let the bags spill onto the floor and, on autopilot, posed with each gift and photographed them for her feed. When the last picture was uploaded she let herself fall back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

What had she missed? she wondered. She had watched him for months — where he ate, what he liked, how he tucked his hair behind his ears when he read. Everything about him had been catalogued, digested. And still — Suhee had not factored into the plan the way she should have.

She sat up. Suhee was clever; she was brave. She was a shield.

She pushed a pillow aside and laughed softly, a sound without humor. Kill her? she thought. No. Not yet. Suhee wasn’t the sort of threat that required a blade. She was the sort of threat that required leverage. Break them instead — make Trunks despise her until the bond between them frays. Only if Suhee became a real danger — if she began to see too much — would Angelique consider the other, darker option.

Her second phone buzzed; She answered.

“Where are we on the mission?” a clipped voice demanded.

“Phase one is complete,” Angelique said. “He’s in love. I’ll begin phase two tonight.”

“Good,” the voice replied. “When you transfer H and Sash to your name, kill him. Brutally.”

A slow smile crept across her face. “You’ll have it done,” she said, and ended the call.

Her normal phone vibrated immediately. She scowled—then saw Trunks’ name and felt the practiced smile return.

“Hello?” she said, composed.

“Hey—uh—Angelique.” His voice came thin over the line, trembling like a plucked wire.

She let the pet name she’d taught him slip out like silk. “You’re still nervous around me, Trunks. Call me ‘babe’ if it helps.”

“Uh. Hi—babe,” he managed. His words stumbled. It was endearing, and it was useful.

She put on just enough impatience to sound genuine. “So why did you call? Did you miss me?”

“Y-yes. I—um—since we’re supposed to get to know each other, I thought… I wanted to invite you to my house. So you can see how my days look.”

“Oh. How thoughtful.” Her voice hid the small thrill that always came with the start of a new phase. “When should I come?”

“This evening. The driver will pick you up. Also—did you like the gifts?”

She glanced around the room at the neat pile he’d been so careful to arrange. “Yes. But that’s only the minimum,” she said lightly.

“I know. I’ll do better next time.”

“Good. See you at seven.” She hung up and smoothed her skirt.