Chapter 8 – Phase Two
1030 Words
The morning after the masquerade, Blackthorn felt… different.
Students whispered in tighter circles. Professors walked faster, eyes wary. The cold in the air wasn’t just weather—it was something darker. Unspoken. Lurking just out of sight.
Aria noticed it most in the way people looked at her now.
Like she was suddenly someone to fear.
Or someone marked.
She shoved her books into her locker and shut it hard. The slam echoed too loudly.
“Bad night?” Evie asked from behind, sipping her iced coffee.
Aria tried to smile. “Just… weird dreams.”
“Lucien again?” Evie asked knowingly.
“I saw his brother,” Aria whispered.
Evie’s eyes widened. “Wait—you met Ronan Vale?”
Aria nodded. “He’s real. He’s terrifying.”
Evie didn’t blink. “I didn’t think he’d actually show up in public.”
“You knew about him?”
Evie hesitated. “Everyone knows the story. They just pretend not to.”
Aria narrowed her eyes. “You said you didn’t believe in all the family curse drama.”
Evie glanced around, lowering her voice. “Believing and speaking it aloud are two different things at Blackthorn. Some stories are dangerous.”
Before Aria could ask more, a voice cut through the hallway.
“Aria Winters. Principal’s office. Now.”
The office was quiet when she entered.
Too quiet.
Principal Hewitt didn’t look up from his paperwork. He just gestured to the seat across from him.
“Ms. Winters. Sit.”
Aria sat, nerves crawling down her spine.
“There’s been a development,” he said. “A formal complaint has been lodged against you.”
“What?” Aria blinked. “A complaint?”
“Allegations of misconduct. Manipulation. Involvement in a forged identity scandal.”
“That’s insane. I didn’t do anything!”
“You were seen last night in the company of Ronan Vale. You’re on scholarship, correct?”
“Yes—”
“And did you receive that scholarship before or after your father’s offshore accounts were activated?”
Aria froze.
“I—what? My father is—he’s dead. I don’t even know what offshore accounts you’re talking about!”
The principal finally looked up, his eyes cold.
“You are hereby suspended until the board finishes its investigation. You’re to leave the premises by noon.”
Aria’s world tilted.
“No. No, this is a mistake. Someone’s framing me!”
“Take it up with the board, Ms. Winters.”
Lucien slammed the door open before she could respond.
“She’s not leaving,” he growled.
Principal Hewitt’s face tightened. “Mr. Vale”
“I own this building,” Lucien snapped. “And the board.”
“You may be a sponsor, but you cannot—”
“I can. Pull the complaint. Burn it. Or I’ll make sure every professor here is jobless by morning.”
The room fell deathly silent.
Lucien walked to Aria, wrapping a protective arm around her. She was shaking.
“Go wait outside,” he whispered.
“Lucien—”
“Please.”
Aria glanced between them, then slowly stepped out.
Behind the door, she could still hear Lucien’s voice—cold, dangerous.
And the sound of a chair breaking.
Outside, Cassian was waiting.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
“No,” Aria said. “They tried to expel me.”
Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Phase two.”
“What?”
He nodded grimly. “Ronan’s next move wasn’t violence—it was infiltration. He’s buying people. Twisting facts. Pulling strings to isolate you.”
Aria swallowed hard. “But why me?”
“Because you’re the key,” Cassian said. “To Lucien. To the Vault. Maybe even to Ronan.”
Before she could respond, Lucien came storming out.
His tie was loosened, and he looked like he’d just punched through a desk.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he told her. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Aria nodded slowly. “But for how long?”
That evening, they met at Lucien’s private estate outside campus.
Blackthorn Manor.
The name was more fitting than ever.
Aria stood by the massive fireplace, arms crossed, heart racing.
“You have to tell me everything,” she said. “No more secrets.”
Lucien paced. “The Vault isn’t just a legend. It’s real. It’s hidden beneath this estate. And it contains everything; records, bribes, evidence of the Vale family’s crimes.”
“And Ronan wants it.”
Lucien nodded. “To destroy the old power. Or maybe to rule it.”
“Why am I involved?” Aria asked.
Lucien turned to her, eyes dark. “Because your mother was the last person who tried to open it.”
Aria’s breath caught.
“What?”
Lucien stepped closer. “Your mother was my father’s assistant. But she wasn’t just working for him—she was investigating him. And she disappeared just after she cracked the first Vault seal.”
“She died,” Aria said, voice trembling.
Lucien paused. “That’s what they told you.”
Aria’s knees buckled slightly. “Are you saying—”
“I don’t know if she’s alive or dead,” Lucien said. “But Ronan knows more. And now he’s using you to finish what she started.”
They stood in silence.
Then Lucien pulled something from his coat.
A black key card.
“The Vault,” he said. “There’s a way in. But it only responds to blood.”
“Vale blood?” she asked.
“Vale… or Winters.”
The implication struck hard.
“Then we go in,” she whispered.
Lucien looked at her for a long moment.
“If we do this, there’s no turning back.”
Aria took the key card, fingers brushing his.
“I never planned to.”
Meanwhile…
Ronan stood in a dim-lit study, sipping dark wine, a tablet screen glowing in his hand.
On it: A live feed of Blackthorn Manor’s security cameras.
Aria. Lucien. The key card.
Ronan smiled.
“You just opened the door,” he whispered.
“And I’ll be right behind you.”
- Writer
