ELITE ACADEMY: ICE AND GOLD

CHAPTER TWELVE: SECRET BURIED IN GOLD

⸻

The air in the classroom hung heavy with silence after Maya and her friends had stormed out. Damien shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing against the edge of his notebook, unsure where to look. For the first time, he finally dared to speak.

“Why… why did you stand up for me?” His voice trembled slightly, a mixture of confusion and awe. “I… I mean, no one even cares about me… no one. And you—why?”

Sienna’s eyes softened, but her tone was firm, commanding the space around them. “You’re wrong, Damian. We’re worse than anyone else here, yes. But that’s the point—we decide who gets to be treated like this. No one touches anyone without our permission. You, Maya, anyone. We set the rules.”

Aria, leaning against a table with that perfectly measured, icy smile, added, “And don’t get it twisted, scholarship boy. We’re not standing up for you. This has nothing to do with some noble cause. I just needed an excuse to deal with Maya because she’s been clingy around Thiago. That’s it. Nothing else. So don’t think this is about you at all.”

Damian’s eyes found no place to rest, shifting uneasily between the three girls. Lila leaned closer, whispering with a hint of amusement

“Oh, poor boy. Thought he might stand a chance with Sienna.”

Sienna shot her a quick glare. “Let’s not make him feel worse than he already does. We fought for him, not against him.”

Aria smiled wickedly, eyes glinting. “Exactly. We are the devil here. Let him know where he stands.”

Sienna reached into her designer bag and pulled out a sleek, elegant card. She placed it delicately in Damian’s palm. “I’m having a party at my mansion. Huge, gigantic. You’ve probably never been to one, but… you can come, if you want. Your choice.”

Damian’s fingers trembled slightly as they closed over the card. Lila whispered, “Why invite a scholarship nerd?”

Sienna’s smile curved knowingly. “Why do you think? Just for fun. Just to see how he handles it.”, “And what do you think would make me want to invite him? Just to have fun and play around with him,” she replied coolly, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Damian’s hand trembled slightly as he held the card. He couldn’t hide his nerves.

Aria didn’t laugh. She didn’t mock him verbally. Instead, she leaned back, her gaze cool and calculating. “Dress with your best outfits,” she said in a mocking tone, her words slicing like ice. “See if you can even manage it.”

Lila sighed, shaking her head, but the three girls rose from the table, walking out gracefully. Sienna paused for a moment, leaning close to Damian before jogging after her friends. “Meet me at the back gate after school,” she whispered, barely audible. “I’ll be waiting.”

Then, with a quick, effortless pace, she disappeared after Aria and Lila. Damian remained frozen, the card still clutched in his hand, realizing that behind the teasing, the protection, and the playful cruelty, Sienna genuinely cared about him—and wanted him safe from the chaos of the school hierarchy.

⸻

The final bell rang, sharp and metallic, slicing through the afternoon air.

Elite Academy spilled out in its usual display of excess.

Luxury cars rolled forward one after the other—

black-tinted windows, polished chrome, chauffeurs stepping out to open doors like rituals. Laughter floated, expensive and careless.

Aria slid into her car without looking back.

Lila followed, already scrolling through her phone.

“Are you not coming?” Lila called out.

Sienna paused.

“No,” she said lightly. “Go ahead. I’ll be late.”

Her driver hesitated.

“Ma’am, I don’t think—”

“I make the rules,” Sienna cut in, already reaching for the keys.

“You obey them.”

The car pulled away without argument.

Meanwhile — On the Walkway

Regular students filtered out on foot.

Backpacks. Worn shoes. Noise that didn’t glitter.

Damian walked fast at first, then slowed when he spotted Thiago ahead—hands in pockets, posture relaxed, face unreadable as ever.

“Hey… bro,” Damian said, almost unsure of the word.

Thiago glanced sideways. Just once.

They walked together.

Silence stretched, not awkward—just heavy.

Finally, Thiago spoke, voice low and detached.

“If you’re going to move around me,” he said, “you’ll need to stop letting people walk all over you.”

Damian blinked.

“You mean… stand up for myself?”

Thiago shrugged.

“No one did it for me.”

There was no pity in his tone. No warmth either. Just truth.

Damian smiled, wide and grateful.

“I won’t make you regret this. I swear.”

Thiago didn’t respond.

That was his way of agreeing.

They walked a little farther—

until Damian’s phone vibrated.

Sienna: Are you coming or should I leave?

Damian froze.

“Oh—oh my God,” he muttered. “I forgot.”

Thiago stopped walking.

“Sienna?” he repeated flatly.

“One of the girls who enjoys making you miserable?”

Damian scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah… kind of.”

Thiago exhaled through his nose—almost a scoff.

“Do what you want.”

He turned and continued walking, hands still in his pockets.

“Thiago, wait—” Damian called.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Thiago didn’t turn back.

Damian ran.

⸻

Sienna leaned against her car, arms crossed, sunglasses still on though the sun was already dipping.

“Fifteen minutes late,” she said the second Damian stopped in front of her.

“I told you a time.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Damian said quickly, breathless. “I really am.”

“Get in the car.”

“Where are we going?”

“I said get in.”

He did.

Latino Boutique

The car stopped in front of a building that didn’t even look real.

Glass walls. Gold accents. Soft lights glowing like a secret.

Damian swallowed.

“Oh my gosh… what are we doing here?”

In one swift motion, she grabbed his hand, her grip firm yet smooth, pulling him along. Damien stumbled slightly, his eyes wide, captivated. He couldn’t believe how effortlessly she moved—how stunning she looked, the way her hair caught the sunlight, glinting with shades he didn’t even know existed. Every step she took seemed choreographed, graceful, commanding, and he could barely keep up.

“Come on,” she said, her voice teasing yet assertive, dragging him toward the boutique, and Damien’s chest tightened. He kept sneaking glances at her, the curve of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, completely forgetting the world around them. His mind raced: how can someone be so beautiful, so confident… and why is she holding my hand like I’m supposed to just follow?

She pulled him inside.

Staff straightened instantly.

“Ma’am,” they said in unison.

“What are you looking for today?”

Sienna didn’t hesitate.

“Men’s wear.”

Damian stared at her.

She can’t be serious.

A consultant led them to a private section—

silk-lined racks, tailored suits, shoes that looked like art.

Damian’s mouth fell open.

“Sienna… are you buying for someone?” he asked nervously.

“Do you—have a boyfriend?”

“Shut up,” she said calmly.

She picked suits.

Placed them against his chest.

Adjusted his shoulders like she’d done this a thousand times.

“Try them.”

Damian shook his head.

“These cost more than my entire life.”

“You don’t get a choice.”

Inside the dressing room, Damian stared at his reflection.

He barely recognized himself.

For a moment—just one—

he looked like he belonged in her world.

Then reality hit.

He stripped the suit off, heart pounding, and rushed out.

“I can’t,” he said, pushing the bags back toward her.

“I didn’t earn this. I can’t wear money that isn’t mine.”

Sienna looked at him.

Really looked.

“I’m not asking you to earn it,” she said.

“I’m asking you not to embarrass me at my party.”

He laughed weakly.

“So this is pity?”

“No,” she snapped.

“This is me not liking how people treat you.”

The cashier announced the total.

Damian nearly fainted.

Sienna didn’t even blink.

She paid. Took the bags. Walked out.

⸻

As they drove, Damian finally spoke.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“…Do you like me or something?”

Sienna smirked.

“In your dreams.”

She glanced at the road, then added:

“I just don’t like bullies.”

That was all.

And for Damian—

it was everything.

⸻

Aria stepped into the grand foyer of her Los Angeles mansion, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. She could hear laughter and soft chatter from the sitting room. As she approached, she caught sight of her mother surrounded by a small circle of elegantly dressed women.

“Darling!” Mrs. Alejandro exclaimed warmly, rising to greet her. She stepped forward, arms open, attempting to hug Aria.

Aria shrugged off the gesture with a cool detachment. “Who are all these people?” she asked, her tone crisp and cutting, like ice against velvet.

“Aria, you don’t need to be rude,” her mother replied, smoothing the fabric of her designer dress. “These are my friends. I met them during my vacation, and they’re visiting Los Angeles. Consider it a little surprise.”

Aria arched an eyebrow, her eyes cold. “Ah. How does that affect me? What are they doing in our home?”

“Baby, calm down,” Mrs. Alejandro said, her voice a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “They simply wanted to socialize. It’s no different than when you invite your friends over. Why should it bother you?”

Aria’s lips pressed into a thin line. Without another word, she swept past them and ascended the stairs, her posture rigid, her expression unreadable.

Her mother called after her, holding a small, elegant package wrapped in gold and white. “You didn’t even ask how my vacation was! I brought you something…”

Aria paused only briefly, glancing at the package with a faint flicker of interest. Then, in a tone as frosty as winter air, she murmured, “I don’t need it,” and continued up the stairs, her hand brushing the banister before slamming her bedroom door behind her.

In the sitting room, the group of Mrs. Alejandro’s friends exchanged shocked glances.

“My goodness,” one whispered, “her daughter… such manners. Or the lack thereof!”

Another nodded, a little more scandalized. “I can’t believe she would be so dismissive. And with that… attitude.”

Mrs. Alejandro exhaled softly, a mixture of pride and resignation crossing her face. “Ah… she is my daughter, after all.”

⸻

Aria had just returned from school, her mind still buzzing with the chaos of her friends and the usual elite drama. The Alejandro mansion was quiet, except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant clatter of the staff. A small, neatly wrapped package had arrived earlier that day, delivered by the maid. With Mr. Alejandro still busy with work, the maid placed the package carefully on the edge of his study desk and left without a word.

Aria wandered through the hallways, intent on finding her father, but she passed the study with so much as glancing inside.

The study is quiet.

Too quiet.

Aria stands alone in her father’s study, the late afternoon light cutting through the tall windows. The room still smells like leather, old books, and her father’s cologne. Her eyes drift—and then she sees it.

A package.

Plain. Sealed. Sitting neatly on her father’s desk.

“A gift again from one of dad’s mistresses”.

Curiosity tightens in her chest.

She moves closer, hesitates for only a second, then slowly opens it.

Inside is a pendant.

A locked pendant.

Aria lifts it carefully, the metal cool against her fingers. Her brows knit together as she opens it.

Her breath stills.

On one side of the pendant is a photo of a young boy and his mother. The boy is smiling, small, innocent—his arm wrapped around the woman beside him.

On the other side—

Aria’s heart skips.

It’s her father.

Mr. Alejandro.

Younger. Softer. Almost unrecognizable.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she stares.

Why is Dad’s picture here?

Who are these people?

Why would someone send him this?

Her thoughts race, questions colliding in her head.

Then—

The sound of a car engine pulls into the mansion gate.

Aria freezes.

The maid’s voice echoes faintly from downstairs.

“Mr. Alejandro is back.”

Panic sparks.

Aria snaps the pendant shut, quickly faintly from downstairs.

“Mr. Alejandro is back.”

Panic sparks.

Aria snaps the pendant shut, quickly placing it back inside the package. She smooths everything exactly the way it was, making sure nothing looks disturbed.

Her heart pounds as she turns and rushes out of the study, disappearing down the hallway just seconds before footsteps approach.

Moments later, Mr. Alejandro enters the mansion.

The maid steps forward.

“Sir, a package was delivered for you while you were out. I kept it in your study.”

He pauses briefly, nods once.

“Okay.”

And with that, he walks toward the study—

unaware that his daughter has just uncovered the first c***k in a secret buried for years.

Mr. Alejandro steps into his study late that evening. His suit jacket is still on; his tie hangs loose. The room smells faintly of leather and old books. His eyes immediately catch the package on his desk.

He freezes.

Slowly, he walks closer.

He opens it.

Inside is the pendant.

His fingers tighten around it as he flips it open.

First side: a young boy, no older than six, standing beside a woman with tired eyes and a soft smile.

Thiago.

And his mother.

Mr. Alejandro exhales sharply.

He turns the pendant over.

Second side: a much younger version of himself.

The color drains from his face.

For a long moment, he just stands there, staring, his jaw clenched so tight it trembles. Then he snaps the pendant shut, anger flashing in his eyes.

He pulls out his phone.

Scrolls.

Stops.

One contact.

He hesitates… then presses call.

The line rings.

Once.

Twice.

She answers.

Thiago’s Mother (soft, cautious):

“Hello… Alejandro?”

His voice comes out low, controlled—but shaking beneath the surface.

Mr. Alejandro:

“What were you thinking?”

Silence.

Thiago’s Mother:

“I just wanted to remind you—”

Mr. Alejandro (cutting in, sharp):

“By sending that to my house?”

“My wife lives here. My daughter lives here.”

He rubs his forehead, pacing now.

Mr. Alejandro:

“What if Aria saw it?”

Her breath catches on the other end.

Thiago’s Mother:

“She won’t understand. She’s just a child—”

Mr. Alejandro (cold):

“She understands more than you think.”

A pause. His voice lowers.

Mr. Alejandro:

“We had an agreement.”

Thiago’s Mother:

“I know. I know. I just… I’ve waited long enough.”

Mr. Alejandro (cold):

“She understands more than you think.”

A pause. His voice lowers.

Mr. Alejandro:

“We had an agreement.”

Thiago’s Mother:

“I know. I know. I just… I’ve waited long enough.”

His grip tightens around the phone.

Mr. Alejandro:

“Not like this.”

He exhales slowly, forcing calm.

Mr. Alejandro:

“You do nothing until I say so. No letters. No gifts. No reminders.”

Her voice softens, almost pleading.

Thiago’s Mother:

“And Thiago?”

That name hits him harder than he expects.

He closes his eyes.

Mr. Alejandro:

“When the time is right… I’ll bring you both here.

As my wife.

As part of my family.”

A beat.

Mr. Alejandro (firm, warning):

“But if you rush this—if you expose us before I’m ready—you ruin everything.”

She whispers his name.

He ends the call.

Slowly, he places the pendant back into the box, locks it, and shoves it deep into a drawer.

Outside the study, faint footsteps echo down the hall.

Mr. Alejandro straightens, his expression hardening back into the man of control.

But his hands are still shaking.