CHAPTER EIGHT: DETENTION HOUR ROYALTY

VALENTINE

If someone had told me that the beginning of a fragile alliance would be forged in the dusty confines of Imperial's abandoned debate room, I would've laughed in their face and walked off in my best boots.

But here I was—leaning against a table that wobbled slightly, surrounded by four men who looked like they'd just stepped off the cover of a Forbes x Felony crossover, and my cousin, who looked ready to stab the next person that breathed in her direction.

Welcome to higher education.

Keira sat beside me, legs crossed, chewing gum like it was someone's soul. She wore a crimson leather jacket over her uniform shirt, a silent middle finger to authority.

Across from us: Aiden Ashbourne, Killian Voss, Arjun Malhotra, and Lucien D'Argent—Imperial's most terrifying, most desired, most privileged collective of testosterone and trauma. Together they looked like a boy band that only sang murder ballads.

"I can't believe I got dragged into this," I muttered, mostly to myself.

"Oh, please," Keira said, smirking. "You walked into this circus with your eyes wide open. I just supplied the popcorn."

Killian raised an eyebrow. "You two do realize we're in the same room, right?"

"Yes," I said dryly. "Tragically."

Lucien's eyes glinted with amusement. "She's fun. Can we keep her?"

"I'm not a stray cat, Lucien," I deadpanned.

"That's exactly what a stray cat would say," he countered with a grin.

Arjun leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching all of us like he was waiting for someone to crack. "So… are we going to pretend we're all here by coincidence, or are we finally ready to acknowledge the elephant-sized conspiracy in the room?"

Keira tossed a pen in his direction. "Don't be dramatic, darling. You're not auditioning for the theatre club."

"I don't need to audition," Arjun replied. "They offered me the lead."

Aiden hadn't said a word.

He sat at the head of the table like he was born there. One leg crossed over the other. Fingers steepled. Black watch glinting under the low light. Observing. Calculating.

And then he looked at me.

Not glanced. Looked.

Like I was a puzzle he was finally starting to piece together.

"So," he said, voice smooth and silk-wrapped. "We're doing this now. The great team-up."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that what this is?"

Killian smiled faintly. "It's more like a mutually assured destruction pact. You don't screw us, we don't screw you."

Keira arched a brow. "Speak for yourself, Voss."

He choked on a laugh.

Lucien leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Let's be honest—we all know too much. We've all seen too much. Some of us have blood under our nails, others have skeletons in closets… and one of us"—he looked at me—"is an unsolved riddle that's beginning to whisper back."

"I'm not a riddle," I said evenly.

"No, love," Aiden said, lips curling. "You're a full-blown novel. With some missing pages, and a few chapters written in blood."

That one stung. Mostly because it was accurate.

Keira sat up straighter. "If we're going to work together, let's get this straight. Nobody tells me what to do. Especially not you four mafia-in-training idiots."

Killian shrugged. "I'd never dream of it."

"I would," Aiden muttered.

Arjun smirked. "Dreams are free. Consequences, though..."

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Can we stop flirting with passive-aggressive threats and talk about why the hell we're all here?"

Lucien drummed his fingers on the table. "Because someone saw Isabelle Ashbourne on campus last week."

The air snapped cold.

Aiden's expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted.

"I thought she was dead," I said slowly.

"She was," Killian replied.

"She's not," Aiden corrected.

"She shouldn't be," Keira muttered.

That got a chuckle from Lucien.

"Look," I said, crossing my arms, "I'm not here to play secret society. I just want the truth. About my past. About Olivia. About Eli Ashbourne. About everything."

"You won't find it alone," Aiden said, voice softer now. Almost thoughtful. "This school… our families… they're a tapestry of lies. Pull one thread, the whole thing unravels."

"Good," I said. "Let it burn."

Silence.

Then Aiden leaned in.

His voice dropped to a whisper meant only for me.

"Careful, Valentine. If you burn the tapestry, you might go up with it."

I stared back. "Maybe I want to."

Keira clapped once, loud and sharp. "God, I love this energy. So much unresolved tension. We should bottle it and sell it as perfume."

Killian nodded. "We'll call it 'Trauma No. 5.'"

Arjun cracked a smile. "With top notes of daddy issues and a hint of homicide."

Lucien raised a pretend glass. "Cheers to us. The most functional dysfunctionals Imperial has ever seen."

I didn't laugh.

But I didn't walk out either.

Because I didn't trust them.

Not one of them.

But for the first time, I realized something terrifying.

They didn't trust me either.

And maybe… that was the beginning of something real.

Or the start of war