forbidden lectures

The Gilded Cage

The sun hadn't even fully cleared the horizon over the city when the screaming started in the East Wing of the Valerius Estate.

"It’s the wrong shade! I said eggshell, not ivory!"

Melody stood in the center of her walk-in closet—a room larger than most people’s entire apartments—glaring at a trembling young maid named Rosa. Rosa was holding a silk blouse that looked, to any normal eye, perfectly white.

"I-I’m sorry, Miss Melody," Rosa stammered, her hands shaking. "The dry cleaners said—"

"I don't care what the dry cleaners said! I have a lecture today with a man who thinks I’m a joke. I cannot look 'off-white' while he’s giving me a zero!" Melody snatched the blouse and threw it onto the floor, stepping on it with her bare feet. "Get me the Valentino. Now. And if my espresso isn't exactly 160 degrees, I’m telling my father to fire your entire agency."

Melody turned to her vanity, where Sophia, her personal stylist, was frantically trying to curl a stray strand of hair.

"Is the convoy ready?" Melody snapped.

"Yes, Miss," Sophia whispered. "Marco has been idling the cars for twenty minutes."

Downstairs, in the massive, marble-clad dining hall, the atmosphere was much darker. Viktor Valerius, the Mafia King, sat at the head of a table that could seat forty. He wasn't eating. He was looking at a ledger while Joshua stood beside him, leaning over a map of the city’s docks.

"The Russians are pushing into the North Side, Dad," Joshua said, his voice lacks any of the "student" tone he used at school. He looked tired, his eyes cold and sharp. "I handled the shipment last night, but we had to leave two bodies in the warehouse to send a message."

Viktor didn't look up. He was a man of silver hair and eyes that looked like they had seen the end of the world. "Good. But don't get distracted by the street work, Joshua. You’re at that university to keep an eye on your sister and to make sure the Valerius name stays 'clean' in the public eye."

"About that," Joshua muttered, thinking of Julian Vance’s cold stare. "There’s a Professor. He’s... difficult."

Viktor finally looked up, his gaze heavy. "Difficult how? Does he need a donation? Or does he need to disappear?"

"I’m handling it today," Joshua said, his hand drifting to the weapon tucked into his waistband. "He needs a reminder of who owns the ground he walks on."

"Don't make a mess," Viktor warned. "Melody is already enough of a headache."

Right on cue, Melody burst into the room, her heels clicking like a rapid-fire weapon. She was wearing a pink Valentino suit and carrying a bag that cost more than a mid-sized sedan.

"Daddy! Joshua is taking too long!" she pouted, walking over and kissing her father’s cheek. She didn't notice the bloodstain on Joshua’s cuff or the talk of "bodies." To her, this was just a Tuesday. "And the maids are being incompetent again. I want a new staff by the time I get home."

"Whatever you want, Princess," Viktor sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Go. Don't be late. And try to actually pass a quiz today."

"I have a better plan than studying," Melody giggled, flashing that bright, spoiled smile.

The University - 9:05 AM

By the time the convoy screeched to a halt at Saint Jude’s, Melody was in a foul mood. The coffee had been five degrees too cold, and the traffic had been "unacceptably crowded."

She marched into Lecture Hall 4B, followed by Joshua and her four suits. The room was already half-full. She noted the usual crowd: Leo, the class nerd who was currently trying to hide behind a massive textbook; Clara, the girl who always stared at Melody’s shoes with a mix of envy and hate; and Beckham, the star athlete who usually spent the class sleeping.

But today, no one was sleeping.

The air was electric. Everyone knew what had happened on Friday. They watched as Melody took her seat in the front row, and they watched as Joshua took his spot right behind her.

Julian Vance walked in precisely on the dot. He didn't look at the Valerius siblings. He walked to the board and picked up a piece of chalk.

"Consequence," Julian said, writing the word in jagged letters. "That is the theme of today’s lecture. Specifically, the consequences of believing one is above the social contract."

CLACK.

The sound of Joshua’s handgun hitting the desk echoed through the hall.

The students in the back row—Mika and Sanjay—actually ducked under their desks. Leo let out a small, pathetic whimper.

"Professor," Joshua said, his voice a low, lethal growl. "You’ve been talking for a week. Now, I think it’s time you listened. My sister’s grade... it’s going to be an A. And you’re going to apologize for dropping her 'toy' on the floor."

Julian stopped writing. He didn't turn around yet. He just looked at the chalkboard, a small, weary sigh escaping his lips.

"Joshua," Julian said, his voice as calm as a frozen lake. "I hope you brought enough ammunition for the entire faculty, because one gun isn't going to change the facts.