Etherealfaith_

Brielle Kingsley is wild, reckless, and filthy rich. She rules the school with glam, attitude, and chaos in her wake. Expelled from yet another elite academy, her billionaire parents have had enough, fix her, or she’s cut off for good.

Enter Elijah Carter - the quiet, brilliant scholarship student with zero tolerance for drama. He’s tasked with tutoring Brielle or losing his academic grant.

He wants peace.
She lives for trouble.
They were never supposed to mix.

But when forced proximity leads to forbidden feelings, secrets from Brielle’s dark past and Elijah’s complicated present begin to unravel.
And in a world full of lies, sabotage, and privilege - falling for each other might be the most dangerous thing of all.

He’s her calm. She’s his storm. Together, they’re about to change everything.

Taming Her Chaos

The halls of St. Augustine's were buzzing, like fire ants over honey, vicious, loud, unstoppable.

Screenshots. Old messages. A folder of photos.

All of it splashed across the student group chats. Posted anonymously. And yet, everyone knew where it came from.

The text that did the most damage?

> "Brielle Kingsley: Not just reckless. Damaged. Addict. Dangerous."

Brielle stared at the stall mirror, her hands gripping the cold porcelain of the sink.

Her face was pale. Her chest tight.

She'd seen the folder. Everyone had. Old rehab records. Personal texts she'd once sent Zane. Private therapy notes. Things no one should have had access to.

Ariana's voice slithered in. "Rough day, Queen B?"

Ariana stepped in anyway, her heels clicking.

"I tried to warn you. About him. But you just couldn't listen, could you?"

"You did this," Brielle whispered.

Ariana smiled, unapologetic. "I told you. I don't lose."

Brielle met her eyes in the mirror. "You will."

Elijah sat at the table, his phone on the counter.

He'd seen the leaks. The chaos. He knew she was breaking.

And yet, he hadn't heard from her.

His scholarship was still undecided. But none of that mattered right now.

Grace padded into the kitchen. "She needs you."

"She does," Grace said simply. "But right now, she needs someone who doesn't ask that kind of question. She needs someone who shows up."

He looked at his little sister, then grabbed his jacket.

Brielle sat on her balcony, knees pulled to her chest.

The city lights blurred below, matching the ache behind her eyes.

She hated crying. Hated being weak. But tonight? She felt like nothing.

"You shouldn't be here," she said quietly.

"They all hate me. Think I'm a joke."

She looked at him. His eyes, tired, warm, steady.

"I'm not okay," she whispered. "I thought I was healing, but maybe I'm just... broken."

He knelt in front of her. "You're not broken. You're just... bruised. And bruises fade."

So he leaned closer. "We'll fight this. Together."

And for the first time that day, she nodded.

Not because she believed it fully.

Someone had replied to her anonymous tip. A journalist.

Her fingers hovered over the keys.

She was about to press send, when a message popped up.

Of her, planting the files in the school's server.

The Breaking Point