Billionaire Redemption

Chapter 12

Ayra’s POV

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Aurelian’s grip on my wrist was firm but not rough. Still, I could feel his frustration in every step he took as he dragged me down the old corridor, ignoring the whispers and curious glances of the few students lingering in the hallway.

He didn’t say a word, just kept walking like he was trying to outrun something.

He pulled open the heavy door of the abandoned first library-a place students barely stepped into anymore. Dust hung thick in the air, old bookshelves creaked under years of neglect, and the only light came from narrow windows with cracked glass.

Once we were inside, he finally let go of me and turned sharply, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

He didn’t speak.

He just stared.

The silence stretched, long and uncomfortable, and I shifted my weight, fidgeting with my sleeves. I opened my mouth to say something--anything--but his expression made the words vanish before they formed.

Minutes passed like hours. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me… or seeing right through me.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned to leave.

But then his voice--low, controlled, cold-sliced through the air behind me.

“Till when?”

I froze.

“Till when are you going to put up with every single word they all say?” he asked again, his voice still calm but edged with something that felt like pain. “Till when?”

Then, without waiting for a response, he walked past me, purposely brushing his shoulder against my arm, hard. His hand briefly grazed mine and I caught it—the slight tremble in his fingers.

And then… he was gone.

I stood there, stunned, staring at the door he’d walked out through.

“Did he mean… them?” I whispered to no one, my voice shaky. “Vanessa and the others at school? Or… Dad and Marla too?”

A bitter laugh slipped out. Maybe both.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, tapping the screen.

Leon Kael. His face filled the screen, calm and stern. My wallpaper.

And just above his head, in my own handwriting, that single word:

Hope.

I smiled, faint but real.

“It’s just a matter of time… and it’ll all be over,” I whispered.

Tucking the phone away, I stepped out of the library and headed to the washroom.

The hallways were awake now, students flooding in, voices loud, laughter louder. But the moment they noticed me, everything shifted. Eyes rolled. Noses scrunched. Backs turned.

“She looks worse than a rag,” someone whispered as I passed.

“She’s still wearing that same torn uniform?”

“Ugh. Can’t believe she’s breathing the same air as us.”

I kept walking, even as the words stung like paper cuts to the skin.

Reaching the washroom, I pushed open the door.

Two girls were already inside. The moment they saw me, one gasped and the other said with a dramatic sneer, “This place already stinks. Must be her.”

They rushed out, laughing as they went.

The door slammed behind them.

I walked to the mirror.

Looked at myself.

My reflection stared back, faded uniform, cracked phone sticking out of my bag, hair tied back in a messy puff, and socks that didn’t match.

I blinked once.

Twice.

And then a cracked, sad little smile twisted onto my lips… and a single tear slipped down.

Maybe I did look like a rag.

But even rags can catch fire.

And burn.

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By the time I stepped out of the washroom, I had wiped away the tear… but the sting still lingered. My eyes were a little red, and my chest felt like it carried the weight of a thousand bricks. But none of that mattered now.

It was exam day.

The first paper.

I glanced at my watch, 9:15 a.m.

My paper starts by10.

I had forty-five minutes left.

My legs trembled slightly as I made my way down the hallway.

The school hallway was buzzing with energy. Students were revising in groups, sharing last-minute theories, laughing off nerves.

Some glanced my way and immediately turned back, pretending I didn’t exist. A few whispered and chuckled, and I didn't need to hear them to know I was the topic.

Again.

Still.

Always.

I clutched my notes tighter and walked past them.

I walked slowly toward my class, my heart heavy, my steps slower than usual. The words still echoed in my mind *Till when are you going to put up with every single word they all say?*

Aurelian's voice had never sounded so firm, so... emotional. Was it frustration? Was he angry with me, or for me? I didn't know.

I reached the door and gently pushed it open.

The moment I stepped into the class, the room went quiet, too quiet. Heads turned. Eyes locked. Whispers passed through lips like secrets written on paper, carried by wind.

I could feel every stare like a thorn in my skin, but the one that struck me the most was Aurelian’s. He was already seated, eyes glued to me as if he’d been waiting.

Our gazes locked for a second, and in that second, the world held its breath. His eyes weren’t cold, they never were but they had that weight in them again, the one I didn’t know how to name.

I was the one to look away first.

And that’s when I noticed her.

Vanessa.

Seated at the far end of the room, her eyes full of fire, her lips curled in disgust. She was glaring at me like I had stolen something precious.

I exhaled quietly and walked over to my seat near the window, the one where I could always pretend Mother Nature was speaking to me, where I could escape the chaos, even if only for minutes.

I sat down, placed my old bag on the desk, and pulled out my notes. My hand shook slightly, not because I was afraid, but because my chest felt heavy. The ache of embarrassment, the cold sting of humiliation still lingered. But I refused to cry. Not in front of them.

I opened my notebook, my pen hovering above the page. But my thoughts drifted again. *Did Aurelian mean them?* I asked myself. *Vanessa? The class? Or did he mean… Dad? Marla?*

I let out a breath, whispering, “It’ll be over soon.” My eyes trailed to my phone. Still cracked, still old. Still showing Leon Kael’s face as the wallpaper. The words I’d written above it stared back at me like a promise:

Hope.