Leona : Unreachable

The name Leona was known all across campus. Everyone admired her—not only for her striking beauty, but for the way she carried herself. She was warm, kind, and respectful to everyone she met. She greeted classmates with a smile, helped those who needed it, and even the lecturers often praised her for her grace. But behind the admiration, there were always whispers of envy. At the campus café, a group of girls sat together, their eyes locked on Leona. Their smiles were thin, their words dripping with spite. “Ugh, look at her. Acting all sweet and perfect—just to get attention.” “Every guy drools over her, but isn’t it strange? Not a single one has managed to date her.” Leona, seated not far away, was aware of the glances but chose to ignore them. She had grown used to the stares, the whispers, the silent daggers. What mattered to her was staying true to herself—kind, approachable, and never letting bitterness touch her heart. Countless boys had tried to capture her affection. Some confessed openly, others tried more subtle ways. Yet her response was always the same: a gentle smile, followed by a soft but firm rejection. Because behind that smile, Leona carried a secret that bound her life—a secret that made her heart unreachable to anyone who dared to come close. One afternoon, the envy that usually hid behind whispers began to turn into something uglier. As Leona descended the quiet staircase after class, a group of girls blocked her path. Their eyes burned with hatred, their voices sharp with mockery. “Still acting like the perfect princess?” one sneered. “Let’s see how perfect you are when no one’s watching.” Leona didn’t flinch. She was used to cruel words, and she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her shaken. But when one of them reached out to shove her shoulder, a voice suddenly cut through the tension. “Enough.” A group of boys appeared at the top of the stairs, their expressions cold and serious. They weren’t Leona’s close friends, but everyone on campus knew they admired her deeply. “Touch her again,” one of them warned darkly, “and you’ll regret it.” The girls froze. Fear flickered across their faces before they stormed away, humiliated. But humiliation quickly turned into spite. Days later, rumors began to spread across campus. What started as whispers twisted into ugly lies. “It was Leona,” they insisted. “She told those guys to threaten us. She pretends to be nice, but she’s dangerous. Manipulative.” Eventually, those rumors reached the campus administration. Leona was summoned to the disciplinary office. Her heart pounded as she stepped inside—and there they were, the group of girls, waiting with smug smiles painted across their faces. The disciplinary room was silent. Only the ticking of the wall clock could be heard, each second adding weight to the air and pressing harder against Leona’s chest. In front of her sat three of the most influential figures on campus: Ms. Marissa, Mr. Jonathan, and Prof. Caleb. Leona lowered her gaze slightly. A polite smile still lingered on her lips, though unease twisted deep inside her. “Leona Virelle,” Prof. Caleb’s voice rang out, calm but firm. “We called you here because of a serious report. A group of female students has accused you of ordering several men to attack them. Do you understand this allegation?” Leona raised her eyes slowly, her clear gaze steady, unwavering. “I understand, professor. But I strongly deny it. I have never, and will never, order anyone to harm another person.” Ms. Marissa folded her arms, her eyes sharp as they studied every flicker of Leona’s expression. “We know you, Leona. You’re not a problematic student. In fact, throughout your three semesters here, you’ve been one of the most disciplined and accomplished. But this complaint… it’s severe. You do realize, if proven, you could face suspension?” Leona drew in a quiet breath. “I understand, ma’am. But once again, I swear… it wasn’t me.” Mr. Jonathan, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke. “Yet multiple witnesses claim those men appeared out of nowhere, blocking the girls when they tried to confront you. To them, it looked like they were under your command. How do you explain that?” Leona’s heart pounded. The memory replayed in her mind the staircase, the sudden arrival of those men who shielded her. She didn’t even know them personally; she only recognized some faces that had lingered around campus, always at a distance. “I never asked anyone to protect me,” Leona replied softly. “Whatever they did… it wasn’t by my instruction. I was just as surprised as everyone else.” Prof. Caleb leaned back in his chair, exhaling heavily. “Leona, you need to understand. This isn’t a small matter. If other students were injured, and your name is tied to it, it could harm the campus’s reputation. We have no choice but to request your family’s presence. Let them hear this directly.” Leona’s heartbeat seemed to stop. Her face paled. "Family…" Not because her family was unknown—no. Quite the opposite. The entire nation, even beyond its borders, knew the Velmonthe family. A name spoken with reverence, fear, and awe. Politicians, businessmen, even the owner of this very campus bowed to their influence. Everyone knew the Velmonthe family. But no one here knew that Leona Virelle was actually Leona Virelle Velmonthe. That was the secret she guarded. Her voice trembled slightly as she tried to deflect. “Professor… I don’t think it’s necessary for my family to be called. I can resolve this on my own. They’re… very busy.” Ms. Marissa narrowed her eyes at her. “Leona, this is procedure. If you’re truly innocent, then your family should have no issue showing up.” Leona bit her lip. She knew there was no way out of this. In her mind, one by one, the faces of her family flashed before her. The Velmonthe Family A name carried with fear, reverence, and unshakable respect. Her father, Don Thalor Velmonthe—the mafia king whose command could topple anyone, from corrupt officials to the wealthiest moguls. His word was law in the underworld. Her mother, Elaria Velmonthe—not just a wife, but a queen in her own right. A woman of elegance and ruthless brilliance, feared in the shadows yet revered among business elites. And her brothers—six men, each with a legacy written in power and blood. Lucien Velmonthe, the eldest. Cold, calculating, destined as heir, always at their father’s side. Darian Velmonthe, a tactician. The mind behind flawless strategies that crushed enemies long before they realized it. Evren Velmonthe, the political face. Charming in public, celebrated in magazines, yet secretly one of the most dangerous of them all. Kaizer Velmonthe, the firebrand. Reckless, ruthless, feared for his explosive temper and unmatched strength. Riven Velmonthe, the silent shadow. A ghost who spoke little but struck with deadly precision. If Riven was involved, there were never survivors. Thorne Velmonthe, the youngest son. Hot-blooded, impulsive, but fiercely protective of the only sister he adored. And then there wasLeona Virelle Velmonthe—the youngest child, the only daughter. The treasure of the Velmonthe dynasty. She, too, bore the family’s tattoo. Unlike her brothers, who wore theirs proudly on their arms as a mark of pride and intimidation, Leona’s was inked upon her back, hidden from the world. Not out of shame, but because she longed to live away from the shadow of blood and violence. Here, in this campus, she was only Leona Virelle. A student who wanted nothing more than a taste of normal life. But now… the demand to summon her family shook her to her core. Because if they came—if the Velmonthe family set foot on this campus—everything would be over. The disciplinary room was still heavy with tension. The ticking of the wall clock echoed slowly, mocking each passing second that suffocated Leona’s chest. In front of her, the three lecturers held firm expressions—Ms. Marissa with her sharp gaze, Mr. Jonathan with his stern look, and Prof. Caleb who appeared calm, though unease flickered behind his eyes. “Leona,” Prof. Caleb’s voice broke the silence. “You’re a good student. We know that. But why are you forcing others to bully them?” Leona froze. “I… I never did such a thing, Professor.” Mr. Jonathan interjected sharply. “We’ve already spoken to the boys involved. They confessed you told them to. So how are you going to deny it now?” Her heart sank, her chest tightened. What? They accused me? The memory of the men who suddenly appeared to protect her flashed in her mind. She never asked for them, never even spoke to them. And now, they turned the blame on her? “No!” Her voice cracked, trembling. “I never told them anything! I don’t even know them!” Ms. Marissa shook her head slowly, her eyes calm but piercing. “Leona… if you’re truly innocent, then why are they all saying the same thing?” Leona bit her lip hard, pain pressing against her chest. She knew the answer. They accused her because they were scared. Scared of consequences, scared of their families being dragged into it, scared of the unknown. And the easiest way out? Push everything onto her—the weak, silent girl who looked defenseless. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Her voice quivered as she pleaded, “Please… I didn’t tell them to do anything. I never did. I’m afraid… I’m just afraid my family will be angry.” The room fell silent for a moment. The lecturers exchanged glances, thinking her fear came from a typical concern of parental scolding or punishment. But they didn’t know the truth. Leona wasn’t afraid of being scolded by her family. She was afraid that if her family learned she was bullied, accused, cornered—then this entire campus might not survive the storm that would follow. The tension thickened when a loud knock came at the door. A staff member rushed in. “Professor, one of the student’s parents has arrived.” Within minutes, a couple entered, faces darkened with fury. They were the parents of one of the girls who had bullied Leona. “This is unacceptable!” the father slammed the table, his voice booming. “How can such a prestigious campus fail to control bullying? My daughter was nearly hurt because of this girl!” His finger stabbed toward Leona. She flinched, her body stiffening. The mother’s voice joined in, sharp with hatred. “We sent our daughter here to study, not to be beaten by some gangster girl who hires street thugs!” Leona bowed her head quickly, her voice breaking. “I… I’m sorry. I truly am, sir, ma’am. But—” “No buts!” the father snapped. “We want her to take responsibility. And if she’s truly from a decent family, prove it! Call your family here, right now!” Leona’s breath hitched, her hands trembling. She had already apologized, though it wasn’t her fault. She was being forced to swallow sins she never committed, just to keep her family’s shadow hidden. But when they pressed her further, something inside her snapped. Her head lifted, her eyes blazing with long-suppressed fire. “I already apologized!” her voice rose, silencing the room. “But don’t push me! I’m not the guilty one here. It was your daughter who started bullying me first!” The words spilled out, raw and unrestrained. The air froze, silence thick and suffocating. Ms. Marissa’s eyes widened, then she frowned. “Leona! Watch your tone. This is not how you speak to another student’s parents.” Prof. Caleb tapped the desk lightly, trying to cool the heat. But his expression had shifted too. “Leona, you’ve crossed the line. We’re only asking for your family to be present so this can be resolved.” Leona squeezed her eyes shut, holding back the flood of tears. She was crumbling under pressure. Mr. Jonathan finally stood up. “Enough. If you refuse, we’ll find another way.” He gestured toward the staff at the door. “Get us the contact of Leona Virelle’s family. We’ll call them ourselves.” Leona’s blood ran cold. No… don’t… But the words never left her lips. --- Time dragged unbearably slow. Each minute stretched into an hour. Leona sat frozen, clutching her skirt tightly, trying to steady her ragged breaths as her chest burned with anxiety. Nearly thirty minutes later, the staff returned. His face was pale, unsettled. “Professor…” he swallowed hard, voice low but clear. “We tried contacting the Virelle family from the records in our system. But… they don’t exist.” Silence..... Ms. Marissa’s brows shot up. “Don’t exist? What do you mean?” The staff shifted nervously. “There’s no official record of a Virelle family. No address. No contact number. It’s as if… they were never there at all.” Every pair of eyes turned to Leona. She sat still, face unreadable, but inside—her panic roared louder than ever. To be continued...