The next morning came with rain.
Not the dramatic, thundering kind, but the soft, whispering drizzle that painted the world in gray and kept secrets tucked under its mist. Veronica stood beneath the covered archway of Elite Private High School's main building, her umbrella tilted at a lazy angle as she watched the luxury cars roll in one by one.
Every student had their little kingdom.
Their circles. Their guards. Their weapons of choice—be it wealth, gossip, or family names.
She was about to rip through all of it.
And the first step?
Student Council elections.
Inside the auditorium, a crowd buzzed with anticipation.
Every year, the council elections were a spectacle. Not because the student body cared about governance, but because it was a battlefield for influence. The council controlled budgets, club approvals, events, and—most importantly—access to the school's private investor network.
It was, essentially, the throne room of this golden-caged empire.
And the reigning queen?
Victoria Ren.
Daughter of a tech giant. Cunning. Perfect grades. Perfect smile. Perfect mask.
And Amy Lin's former rival.
Victoria stood on stage now, delivering her rehearsed speech with robotic charm.
"I believe in tradition," she said smoothly. "But also in innovation. I will ensure Elite High remains the top in academics and character…"
Veronica stood near the back, arms folded.
How quaint.
Victoria didn't recognize her yet. That was fine. It was easier to strike when they didn't see the knife coming.
She turned to the whispering students beside her.
"Who else is running?" she asked casually.
A boy with thick glasses blinked. "Uh… just Victoria. No one ever runs against her."
Veronica smiled.
Not anymore.
Ten minutes later, chaos.
"What do you mean she signed up to run?!" Victoria hissed at the student council advisor backstage.
"I mean… she did." The poor advisor clutched the clipboard like a shield. "She qualifies. She's from the Lin family. She even submitted her platform points."
Victoria's perfect mask cracked just a little. "Amy Lin wants to run for president? That sickly brat who couldn't survive a prawn allergy?"
"She's different now," someone muttered nearby.
Victoria turned. "What?"
The advisor cleared his throat. "The students are saying she… changed. There's buzz."
Victoria's nails dug into her palm.
Unacceptable.
Outside, Veronica sat on the edge of the stone fountain, watching the students swarm to reprint ballots. Her name would be added manually.
The buzz was spreading like wildfire.
A Lin wants to challenge a Ren?
A dying heiress wants to take down the queen?
Is she crazy—or brilliant?
Veronica let the chaos build.
She didn't care about a school title. She cared about the stage. The visibility. The leverage.
And there was one more reason—
She lifted her gaze.
Lucas.
He stood under a nearby tree, umbrella in hand, phone tucked against his ear as he watched her.
Always watching.
Always calculating.
He hadn't interfered yet.
Smart.
He was waiting to see what kind of monster she really was.
Good.
She was ready to show him.
Later That Day: Lin Mansion
Lucas's voice was calm, measured. "She's making a move. Already."
Mr. Lin's voice crackled through the phone. "What kind of move?"
"She entered the student council elections."
A pause. Then, a low chuckle.
"That doesn't sound like our Amy at all."
"No," Lucas said quietly. "It doesn't."
Another pause. "Keep watching."
"I always do."
Click.
Lucas pocketed his phone and stared at the tablet in front of him. It displayed footage from multiple school hallway cams. In one clip, Veronica glided down the corridor like she owned it.
Composed. Fearless. Smiling like a girl who'd tasted blood.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
Who are you really?
At the Ren Estate…
Victoria Ren tossed a crystal pen across the room.
It shattered.
"Amy Lin wants to play queen?" she growled. "Then she better be ready for war."
Her assistant swallowed nervously. "Should I leak her hospital records?"
"No. Too soon," Victoria snapped. "I'll let her dig her own grave first."
She stood and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"She wants attention? Fine. I'll give it to her. But she won't survive it."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Let's remind the world who owns this school."
The Next Day: School Hallway
Veronica opened her locker and paused.
A photo fell out.
It was her—taken yesterday, at the fountain.
A red X slashed across her face.
She didn't blink.
Instead, she picked up the photo, smiled faintly, and tucked it into her folder.
"You're going to have to try harder," she whispered to no one in particular.
Just as she closed her locker, a hand slapped against it beside her head.
"Running for president, huh?"
Veronica tilted her chin up.
The boy in front of her was tall, muscular, and cocky—an athlete from the elite sports committee. Tyler Qian. Victoria's pet.
"Cute idea," he smirked. "But you should know your place."
Veronica smiled, slow and dangerous. "And you should know not to corner a lion."
"What—?"
Her hand moved faster than his eyes could track.
She twisted his wrist, stepped sideways, and whispered in his ear, "Touch me again, and I'll rip your career from the inside out."
Then she stepped back and smoothed her uniform.
Tyler staggered, blinking in shock.
She walked away, calm as ever.
Lucas watched from around the corner, lips twitching into the faintest smile.
So she was a lion.
That Night: Veronica's Balcony
She stood beneath the moonlight, wind brushing her hair back as she stared down at the city.
Below, everything glittered.
All the families who had betrayed her.
All the names she would cross off her list.
Behind her, Lucas spoke, voice low.
"You made quite the impression today."
She didn't turn. "That's the point."
"You think they'll let you win?"
She smiled.
"They'll never see it coming until it's too late."
A pause.
"You don't scare easily."
"I used to be scared," she said softly. "Of love. Of betrayal. Of dying."
She turned to meet his eyes.
"But now? Now I only fear one thing."
His brows lifted. "What?"
"Wasting my second chance."
Their gazes locked.
The storm in her had found its match in his stillness.
And neither of them looked away.