Rivals, Rumors & Red Lipstick.

Salomi's POV.

The thing about being the ex?

People always assume you're bitter.

That you spend your nights stalking his social media, rereading old messages, hoping he'll come back.

Pathetic.

I wasn't one of those girls.

I didn't chase. I didn't beg.

And I sure as hell didn't cry over Zayne McCall.

But did I want him back?

Absolutely.

Not because I was in love with him—I wasn't stupid. Love was just another temporary high, and high school relationships? Forgettable.

But Zayne?

He wasn't just any guy.

He was the guy.

My guy.

Until he wasn't.

And now?

Now, he was spending more time looking at Jasmine Thompson than he ever did me.

And that?

That was unacceptable.

The westrange High Cafeteria.

I made my entrance **like I always did—**head held high, hair sleek, uniform skirt tailored just short enough to cause a stir.

People noticed.

They always did.

I liked it that way.

But today?

Today, my attention was on one person.

Jasmine.

Sitting at her usual table with Xan and Ava, laughing at something, completely unaware that she was one bad decision away from becoming my problem.

I grabbed my tray, heading toward my usual spot.

Then—

A voice caught my attention.

"…you don't think something's going on between them?"

I slowed my steps, casually shifting toward the table of junior girls whispering a little too loudly.

One of them scoffed. "I mean, come on. Did you see how McCall dragged her out of class? That wasn't normal."

Another girl giggled. "They totally hooked up."

My grip tightened on my tray.

Jasmine.

And Zayne.

Hooking up.

I turned slowly, my expression smooth, unreadable, as I approached their table.

The girls froze.

I smiled.

"What's this I hear about my ex?" I mused, setting my tray down and taking an empty seat.

One of them hesitated. "We were just—"

"Talking shit?" I finished for her, arching a brow.

They all shut up real quick.

I leaned in slightly. "If you're going to start rumors, at least get your facts straight."

The brunette across from me swallowed. "So… they're not a thing?"

I laughed.

Soft. Sweet.

Fake as hell.

"Oh, honey," I purred, picking up my drink. "She's not even his type."

I took a slow sip.

Didn't even believe my own words.

But it didn't matter.

Because if people were already talking?

It meant I had work to do.

And Jasmine?

She had no idea what was coming.

Then again, Jasmine Thompson had never really understood how things worked at Westrange High.

She thought that just because she was smart, stubborn, and pretty enough to turn a few heads, she could stand on the same level as people like me.

Like Zayne.

Like we hadn't already ruled this place since junior year.

Zayne and I weren't just a couple. We were the couple.

We walked through these halls untouchable, envied, respected.

Everyone wanted to be us, to have what we had—power, attention, influence.

And even then, even when he was mine, there was always her.

Jasmine.

Not in the way people whispered about now. Not in the way they were suddenly pairing her name with his like it belonged there.

No.

Back then, she was just his rival.

The girl who argued with him in class, who challenged him in debate, who got under his skin just enough to make him enjoy it.

It was harmless.

Annoying, but harmless.

Until it wasn't.

Until she became something else.

And now?

Now, the same girls who used to idolize me were whispering about her.

Now, she was the name that lingered next to his in hushed conversations.

Now, people were starting to forget who belonged next to Zayne first.

And that?

That wasn't going to happen.

Not while I was still here.

Not while I was still Salomi Michealson.

I stood from the cafeteria table, leaving the gossiping girls behind, not sparing them another glance as I turned my attention to my real target.

Jasmine.

Sitting with Xan and Ava, mid-laugh, completely unaware that her entire world was about to change.

I made my way toward her table, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor, my movements slow, deliberate.

By the time they noticed me, it was too late.

Jasmine looked up, eyes narrowing slightly, staring alittle displeased.

Ava?

She saw through me immediately.

Her gaze sharpened, suspicious, already two steps ahead.

Xan?

Didn't even bother looking impressed.

Just leaned back in his seat, stirring his drink, bored as hell.

And Jasmine?

She did the most amusing thing of all.

She smiled.

Fake. Perfect. So believable it would have fooled anyone else.

But not me.

I smirked internally, sliding into the seat across from her, resting my chin on my hand, and met her gaze with a sweet, calculated expression.

Let the games begin.

Jasmine's POV

Seeing Salomi Michealson walk toward me with a smile—a real, pleasant, **friendly fucking smile—**two things immediately crossed my mind.

1. Bullshit talk.

2. Death.

I wasn't sure which one I'd prefer.

I barely had time to react before she stopped beside our table, perfectly manicured fingers resting lightly on the edge.

"Hey, Jas."

Jas?

Jas?

Since when did she get to call me Jas?

I blinked, my brain short-circuiting for half a second.

Then, because I refused to be the dumbass sitting there looking confused, I smiled back.

Fake. Practiced. Flawless.

"Well, this is unexpected," I mused, resting my chin on my palm. "What's next? Are you gonna tell me you've always admired me?"

Ava let out a harsh laugh. "Please. I'd rather die."

Xan, still chewing his food, didn't even look up. "You're already dead inside."

Ava flipped him off.

Salomi just smiled brighter.

"Oh, Jasmine," she said sweetly, tilting her head. "We've always been… connected, haven't we?"

Ava muttered something that sounded a lot like brainless barbie.

I exhaled sharply through my nose. "That's one way to put it."

Salomi's green eyes flickered with something sharp and unreadable.

Then, just as quickly, her sweetness returned.

"Mind if I sit?"

Before I could shut that down—

She pulled out a chair.

And just like that, she was sitting at my table.

The same girl who had spent years smirking at me from across the room, watching me lose to her ex, and treating me like I was an ant under her designer heels—

Was now acting like we were about to swap friendship bracelets.

I glanced at Ava, who was staring at her like she had just sprouted horns.

Xan?

Didn't even blink.

Just sighed dramatically and muttered, "This is gonna be a long lunch."

She rested her elbow on the table, chin balanced on her palm.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. This girl.

Ava wasn't even hiding her disgust. "Cut the act, Barbie. What do you want?"

Salomi's smile didn't waver. "Relax, Ava." Her gaze flicked back to me. "Can't a girl be friendly?"

Ava scoffed. "You? Friendly? Yeah, and pigs can fly."

I bit back a smirk.

Salomi just sighed, shaking her head lightly. "See? This is why people think you're aggressive."

Ava's jaw clenched. "And this is why people think you're fake."

Salomi ignored her, turning her attention fully to me.

"So, Jasmine," she began smoothly. "How's the project going?"

I blinked.

That was it?

That was why she came over?

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Fine."

She hummed. "Must be difficult, working so closely with Zayne."

Ava snorted. "Here we go."

I didn't react. Didn't give her the satisfaction.

Instead, I tilted my head. "Not really. Why?"

Her lips twitched. "Just making conversation."

Sure. And I was the Queen of England.

I leaned back in my seat. "Well, since we're making conversation, how's it going for you?"

She arched a brow. "What?"

I gestured vaguely. "The whole 'lingering around your ex and pretending not to care' thing."

Xan choked on his drink.

Ava straight-up cackled.

Salomi's eyes flashed for half a second before she smoothed her expression.

But I saw it.

A tiny crack.

Then—she smiled.

It was slow. Too slow. The kind of expression that was meant to disarm you, pull you in, make you think the venom wasn't already sinking into your skin.

But I wasn't stupid.

I knew poison when I saw it.

And right now, it was sitting across from me, smirking like it had already won.

Salomi adjusted her posture, crossing one long, tanned leg over the other, her freshly manicured nails tapping lightly against the table's polished surface.

She tilted her head, green eyes scanning me lazily, like she was taking her time deciding what to do with me.

And then—she spoke.

"I have to admit, Jasmine," she said, voice smooth, playful, practiced, "you're not as pathetic as I thought you'd be."

Ava stiffened beside me. "Excuse me?"

Xan sighed, setting his drink down. "Here we fucking go."

I ignored both of them.

Didn't flinch. Didn't blink.

Just met Salomi's gaze, keeping my expression bored, unbothered. "Wow. That almost sounded like a compliment."

Salomi laughed softly, the sound as pretty as it was sharp. "Oh, it was."

Then, as if we were just two friends sharing a casual chat over lunch, she leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something just between us.

"But don't get too comfortable," she murmured, smile widening just enough to be unsettling.

The air shifted.

The cafeteria was loud, buzzing with voices, the clatter of trays, the occasional outburst of laughter from a nearby table.

But in this moment?

It felt like just us.

Like everything else blurred away, fading into static behind the weight of her words.

I exhaled slowly. "And why is that?"

Her lips curved, glossy and deceptively sweet.

"Because I don't like sharing what's mine."

I blinked. Once. Twice.

Then—

I laughed.

Loud enough for nearby students to glance over, curious, confused.

Salomi didn't react.

She just sat there, waiting, watching, letting me process the warning she had just disguised as casual conversation.

I shook my head, amusement dripping from my tone. "That's cute."

Her brows lifted slightly, as if entertained by my response. "Isn't it?"

I rested my elbow on the table, leaning in just enough to match her fake, easy energy. "There's just one problem."

She hummed. "And what's that?"

I smiled. Sickly sweet.

"You're acting like you still have something to claim."

Ava choked on her drink.

Xan whistled lowly. "Damn."

For the first time, Salomi blinked.

Not much, not long, but enough for me to see it.

That tiny flicker of something that wasn't confidence.

It was quick. Gone before anyone else could catch it.

But I did.

And for the first time since she sat down, I had the upper hand.

Then, before I could enjoy it, she did the most Salomi thing possible.

She smiled again.

Bigger this time. Brighter.

Then—

She reached forward, fingers barely grazing my wrist as she tilted her head.

"Well," she said lightly, "I guess we'll find out."

Her voice was almost playful.

Almost.

But the glint in her emerald-green eyes?

Deadly.

The cafeteria doors swung open behind us, a burst of fresh voices filling the space.

I didn't need to turn around to know who had just walked in.

Didn't need to see him to feel the way Salomi's confidence surged like a predator that had just spotted an opportunity.

Her gaze flicked to something—or rather, someone—behind me.

Her body language relaxed, shoulders shifting back, spine straightening, lips pressing together in a way that looked calculated.

I already knew what she was doing.

Knew she was waiting for him to see her here, with me, in a conversation she would make sure to twist to her advantage.

Because that's what she did.

And I?

I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.

So instead of stiffening, instead of glancing back, instead of giving any kind of reaction—

I stood up first.

Calm. Controlled.

Like I was done with this entire conversation.

Because I was.

I grabbed my drink, threw my tray over my arm, and gave her one last glance.

Her expression didn't change.

Didn't falter.

But I could see it.

The tiniest flicker of irritation in the way her lips pressed together just a little too tight.

I smirked. "Nice talk, Michealson."

Then I turned and walked away.

Leaving her to plot whatever the hell she wanted.

Because if she wanted a war?

She'd just started one.

Salomi's POV

Jasmine Thompson thought she won that round.

How adorable.

She walked away with her head high, her tray balanced on one arm, so sure she had shut me down.

But what she didn't realize?

I had never planned to fight her head-on.

That wasn't how real wars were won.

No, real wars were fought in the shadows. With whispers, not weapons.

And I was about to make sure her entire world collapsed before she even saw it coming.

I turned back to the table of gossip-hungry junior girls, flashing them a casual, knowing smile.

"That was… intense," one of them muttered, eyes wide.

I hummed, swirling the straw in my drink. "You think so?"

They all nodded.

"You two have the weirdest relationship," another girl chimed in. "Like, I thought you hated each other, but then you're talking so… I don't know… friendly?"

I exhaled softly, perfectly calculated.

"Friendly?" I echoed, tilting my head. "Oh, honey."

I let my voice drop just enough to sound casual, unbothered.

"She just doesn't know who she really is yet."

The girls leaned in slightly.

Hooked. Predictable.

One of them frowned. "What do you mean?"

I sighed, playing with the edge of my napkin, casually, like I wasn't feeding them exactly what I wanted them to spread.

"I just think it's… interesting." I lifted my gaze, making sure I looked concerned, not malicious. "The way she moves."

Silence.

Then, one of the girls bit.

"Moves how?"

I shrugged lightly. "I mean, she's always competing with Zayne. Always pushing, fighting, needing to be noticed."

Pause. Let it sink in.

"I just never thought she'd be the kind of girl to need multiple guys' attention at once."

Bait. Dropped.

They all exchanged glances.

"Oh my God," one of them whispered. "Are you saying she's—?"

I held up a hand. "I'm not saying anything."

Except I was.

And they knew it.

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "I just think it's interesting, you know? First Zayne. Now Andre?"

Another girl gasped.

"Oh my God, that's true," she whispered. "Andre was looking at her in the conference room. Like… really looking."

Bingo.

I smiled. "It's probably nothing."

But none of them believed that.

And that was all I needed.

Because now?

Now, I'd planted the seed.

And within a few hours?

That seed would grow into a wildfire Jasmine couldn't control.

I picked up my lip gloss, twisting the cap off slowly, dragging the glossy red applicator across my lips as the girls continued whispering among themselves.

And I smirked.

Because in the end?

I didn't need to fight Jasmine.

I just needed to let the world turn against her first.