Daddy’s wild girl

Chapter 45

The hallway was a blur of fluorescent lights and the distant, rhythmic thud of lockers closing, but as Bella approached the heavy, grey door of the janitor's closet, the world seemed to narrow down to a single, jagged sound. It was a sob—muffled, ragged, and thick with a misery that didn’t belong in a place this cold.

Bella stood frozen, her hand hovering inches from the handle. Her first instinct was to walk away. In this school, a closed door usually meant a trap, and a crying girl was often the bait. But the sound came again, a gasping, pained intake of breath that made Bella’s own chest ache.

She took a breath, steeled her nerves, and pulled the door open.

The smell of industrial bleach and damp mops hit her instantly, but it was the sight inside that made her breath hitch. Sophia, one of Amelia’s most loyal shadows, was slumped against a stack of detergent crates. Her designer skirt was wrinkled, and her mascara had surrendered, leaving dark, messy tracks down her pale cheeks.

"Okay, this is definitely a trap," Bella uttered, her voice flat. She began to pivot on her heel, ready to bolt before the rest of the Mean Girl squad jumped out with cameras.

"Don't flatter yourself, Bella. Not everything in this hellhole is about you," Sophia snapped. Her voice was cracked, raw from crying, but the venom was still there. She reached for a rough paper towel, aggressively dabbing at her eyes.

Bella stopped, looking back at the pathetic sight. "So, if it isn’t a trap, why are you hiding in a broom closet crying like your world just ended? What happened?"

Sophia let out a harsh, wet hiss of a laugh, looking at Bella with pure disdain. "I know for a fact you ain’t trying to play therapist to a girl that watched you drown. I partook in it, remember? I watched you sink. Go away."

Bella crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Well, you might be heartless, but I’m not. What’s wrong, Sophia?"

Sophia stood up, her movements shaky as she tried to smooth her hair. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by the sharp armor she wore like a uniform. "You must be plain dumb to think I’m going to stay here and share my feelings with you. We aren't friends, and we never will be."

She marched toward the exit, shoving past Bella so hard that the smaller girl stumbled back into the mops. Bella watched her, mouth open in genuine shock at the sheer audacity. Sophia stopped at the threshold, looking back with eyes that were still red but freezing cold.

"And if I were you," Sophia added, her voice a low warning, "I’d drop the goody-girl tissues. Those kinds of people tend to die a lot quicker here."

With that, she vanished into the hallway.

"My goodness," Bella groaned, rubbing her temples as the door creaked shut. "Out of all the schools my mother could have picked, she chose this. I’m starting to think she did it to get rid of me."

A sudden, sharp cramp twisted her stomach, making her double over. Whether it was the stress or the mystery meat from breakfast, her body was done. "Maybe a quick bathroom break," she wheezed, sprinting toward the nearest stalls.

Inside the English lecture hall, the atmosphere was suffocatingly formal. Mr. Henry was already at the board, the screech of his chalk filling the silence.

Ethan sat in the back row, his long legs stretched out, tapping a rhythmic, impatient beat against the floor. His eyes kept darting to the empty seat next to Molly. The girl who had occupied his every thought since their kiss in the empty classroom was missing, and the silence was eating at him.

He leaned forward, tapping Molly’s shoulder. "Hey. Where’s your roomie at?"

Molly didn’t turn around. "Probably a place where you can’t find her, Ethan. Somewhere peaceful."

"Come on, Molly," Ethan whispered, a familiar, boyish smirk playing on his lips. "Don’t act like we weren’t friends before all this drama started."

"Before," Molly repeated, finally turning with a flat look.

"Britany already forgave me, why can’t you?" Ethan uttered, shrugging with a casual arrogance.

Molly sighed, her resolve softening. Ethan had a way of making you forget he was a monster when he wanted to. "Look, Ethan, I’m not even mad at you because s**t happens. But if you’re gonna keep messing with my roommate, don’t expect me to be nice."

"Hey, I already called a quicky on that. I’m done with the games," Ethan uttered, his smile widening as he nudged her shoulder.

"Fine! I forgive you, now stop shoving me!" Molly laughed, swatting his hand away.

"Alright. There’s a party tonight—I presume I’ll see you and your roommate there?"

Molly nodded.

"That’s not an answer, Fatty Face," Ethan teased, using the old nickname.

"We’ll be there, Grumpy Pants," Molly shot back, making Ethan chuckle.

The laughter was cut short as the door burst open. Bella stumbled in, looking like she’d just run a marathon through a war zone. Her hair was a mess, her face was flushed, and she was gasping for air.

"Goodness gracious, what happened to you, girl?" Mr. Henry asked, peering over his glasses.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Henry," Bella panted. "I got caught up with... things. I didn't check the time."

"It’s alright, dear. Go have your seat," he said gently.

"Well, that’s not fair!" Ethan shouted from the back, throwing his hands up. "You would have kicked me out if I had come in a minute late!"

Mr. Henry gave him a deadpan stare. "Well, Ethan, you come late intentionally to annoy me. You and Bella are not the same. She is a good student, and you are just a... well, you know what you are."

The class erupted into snickers.

"SILENCE!" Ethan yelled. The room went dead quiet instantly.

As Bella walked toward her seat, she had to pass Scott. He leaned out, his voice a low, oily drawl. "How can someone look so sweaty and hot at the same time?"

Ethan’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his desk. He watched her collapse next to Molly, his eyes burning with a possessive fire.

The moment the bell rang, Bella tried to bolt, but she wasn't fast enough. Ethan’s hand clamped around her wrist, dragging her out of the room as students watched in a hushed frenzy.

Standing by the lockers was Sophia. She watched Ethan hold Bella’s hand—watched the way he looked at her even as she tried to pull away. Sophia, who had been a 'fling' to him, felt a surge of jealousy so sharp it felt like a physical wound. The girl she had watched drown was now the only thing the King wanted to see.

The whispers in the hallway were like a wildfire, jumping from one group of students to the next. The image of Ethan’s hand clamped firmly around Bella’s wrist as he hauled her away was etched into everyone’s mind.

"Did you guys see the way Ethan dragged Bella out? Now I believe they are really dating," one girl whispered, clutching her books.

"Oh my goodness, has Ethan really found love?" another added, her voice full of disbelief. "I thought he was too cold and heartless to ever love. I thought he would be mateless forever."

"She’s probably not his mate," a boy chimed in, leaning against the lockers.

"Actually, he’ll make her his regardless," a voice countered.

Sophia stood nearby, her fingernails digging into her palms. Every word felt like a serrated blade across her skin. She could still feel the dampness of the janitor's closet on her clothes, the humilation of being seen by Bella still fresh.

A few feet away, Amelia was seething for a different reason. "Scott is being so cold," she hissed to Lila. "He barely looks at me. He’s too busy staring at that little witch."

Amelia scoffed as she overheard the girls nearby continuing to gush about Ethan and Bella’s "romance." Her eyes narrowed as a twisted thought took root. "Wait... what if I get close to Ethan? If I make him dump that b***h, Scott might actually get jealous. He'll see what he's missing and come crawling back to win me over."

Lila nodded eagerly, her eyes widening. "That is a great idea, Amelia. It hits two birds with one stone."

One of the girls gossiping overheard them and turned around, her expression brave. "Ethan already has Bella. He won't look at you."

Amelia stiffened, her gaze turning lethal. "I’m sorry, are you talking to me?" she scoffed, stepping toward the girl with a dead glare that usually made people crumble.

But Sophia didn't wait for a verbal confrontation. The snap in her mind was louder than the noise in the hallway.

In a blur of gray and silver, Sophia utilized her wolf speed. It happened so fast the human eye couldn't track it—a flash of movement, the sound of several sickening cracks, and suddenly, the girls who had been gossiping slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The hallway went silent. Amelia stood frozen, stunned by the sudden, violent outburst from her friend. She looked at the bodies on the floor and then back at Sophia, who was standing there, her chest heaving slightly, her expression completely blank.

"I’m sorry," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm as she adjusted her sleeve. "I couldn’t keep hearing them talking. It was annoying."

She looked at Amelia, a dark, hollow glint in her eyes. "And your plan is perfect. Let’s get rid of Bella once and for all. No more games, no more 'flings.' Just her, gone."