Chapter 450: Masquerades and Motives

The Ridgefall Campus was humming with rumors—murmurs about who would arrive at the Prom Ball, what drama would unfold, and who among them would rise—or fall. But Ochieng? He was unmoved. Calculated. Silent. Until now.

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He sat across from Tielen, his most trusted strategist. Papers were scattered across the floor—maps, profiles, encrypted prom invite lists. Tielen (23), former streetwise orphan turned corporate ghost, wore a leather jacket over a designer turtleneck. Sharp mind. No emotions.

"They're all planning something," Tielen said, tossing a profile across the table. "Vivienne wants to humiliate you in front of everyone. Livia wants control of your next move. And the university board? They're placing bets on your fall."

Ochieng took a slow breath. "They all think it's a game." His voice was low. "But they're playing in my world now."

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Zahra (20) walked past the bronze fountain, her heart aching. She wore an oversized hoodie, makeup smudged. She hadn't spoken to Ochieng in days. Her friend, Nessa (19), tried to cheer her up.

"He's just… complicated," Nessa said.

Zahra's voice cracked. "Complicated doesn't explain why he kissed Vivienne in the middle of that hallway."

Nessa paused. "You saw it?"

"No. But someone made sure I did."

From behind a tree, Livia Santiago, in aviator glasses and a tight skirt, smirked. "Let the games begin."

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The Santiago family unveiled their newest AI-integrated wearable. The auditorium was full of investors, CEOs, and young billionaires in disguise. Ochieng walked in, flanked by Linet and Jeff, both dressed in full black, speaking only in whispers.

Linet (28) – in charge of African tech ventures, wore high heels and an attitude. Fierce and feared.

Jeff (32) – oil magnate, known for his calm killer instinct. His watch alone could buy half the campus.

"Leonardo is trying to steal investors," Linet said.

Ochieng nodded. "Let him. I don't chase flies."

On stage, Leonardo Santiago addressed the crowd. "We aim for domination. And we don't beg for alliances."

Ochieng clapped slowly, rising. "Then you've already lost."

The room froze.

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Professor Margo poured wine into two glasses.

"You sure you want to attend?" she asked.

Across from her sat Clara, dressed in a silky red robe, legs crossed. "He'll be there. Ochieng."

"You still love him?" Margo asked.

Clara's lips curled. "No. But I want to remind him what he lost."

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Only the elite knew about it. Black velvet walls, candlelight, jazz and temptation in the air. Couples slow-danced in masks. And in the VIP lounge, Ochieng met Gloria (22).

Gloria—goddess in a backless silver gown, known for her family's trillion-dollar hotel empire. Sharp tongue. Curves that made men sin. She leaned in close.

"You need a queen by your side tomorrow," she whispered.

"I already have one," he replied.

"Does she know?"

"No. But she will."

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A drone flies above the Ridgefall Hall, streaming preparations for the grand prom.

Hundreds of white roses. A stage being built. Security tripled. Masked faces practicing their dances.

But somewhere deep in the shadows, someone sharpens a blade—not to kill the body, but to wound a legacy.

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