The Game Turns Personal

Morning – College Campus, Main Courtyard

The day had barely begun when it happened.

A voice note was posted on Gianna's private account. But in seconds, screenshots spread like wildfire. It wasn't edited. It wasn't made up.

It was real.

Tristan's voice, clear and sharp, played across every device:

"You really think Gianna deserves someone like you? She's always had everything handed to her — the spotlight, the applause, the power. She uses people who adore her, and when they're no longer useful, she discards them. Just like she'll discard you. Trust me, Rael. You're just another step in her perfect little game."

The caption Gianna posted with it?

"And he called me manipulative."

The campus exploded. People whispered. Gasps. Laughter. Shock.

Gianna walked into college with her head held high, dressed in black, sunglasses on. Power returned to her step.

And the Greystorms?

They were livid.

At the Greystorm Mansion, Aldric threw his phone across the room.

"That voice note was supposed to be private!" he barked.

Celeste clenched her jaw. "So, it was real."

Sienna narrowed her eyes. "That girl is smarter than she looks."

Meanwhile, the Veymonts celebrated.

Lucien sipped his tea, smiling faintly. "We needed a win."

Cassandra nodded. "And she gave it to us."

Late Morning – A Hidden Café

Celeste sat at a back table, tapping her nails on her glass.

Sabrina Redwick walked in wearing cream-colored heels and a silky green blouse. She slid into the seat opposite Celeste with a smirk.

"Quite the morning, huh?"

Celeste glanced at her. "What do you want?"

Sabrina pulled out her phone. "To help. Of course."

She placed it between them, showing Celeste a photo — Gianna and Emrys standing close beneath a tree, her hand brushing his.

Celeste's eyes narrowed. "Where did you get this?"

"I have my ways," Sabrina said smoothly. "Let's just say… we share a common goal."

Celeste didn't reply.

"But," Sabrina continued, sipping her drink, "you should show this to your brother. He deserves to know who she really runs to."

Noon – Library

While the whole college was taking Gianna's side and blaming Tristan for always manipulating things between Gianna and Rael.

Tristan sat alone, headphones in, trying to block out the chaos around him. But he didn't get long.

Sabrina slid into the chair across from him.

"Hey," she said softly. "Rough day?"

He pulled out one earbud. "What?"

"That voice note," she said, tilting her head. "I just wanted to say… it was cruel of her. Posting it. You were trying to protect someone, and she turned it into a weapon."

Tristan's jaw tightened. "You don't know the full story."

"Maybe. But still." She leaned forward, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeve. "You're better than this."

He didn't respond.

"I also thought you should see this," she added, showing him the same photo — Gianna and Emrys, too close to ignore.

Tristan stared at it.

"That was taken yesterday," she said softly. "They look... happy."

A dangerous quiet took over him.

Afternoon – College Garden

Gianna stood near the hedge wall, her voice soft as she spoke to an old classmate from a drama club. Emrys stood a few feet away, pretending to read, but clearly watching her.

She laughed lightly. Her curls bounced with every nod.

Then came footsteps.

Tristan.

He stormed toward them, fists clenched.

Gianna turned, surprised.

"Do whatever you want to me, Gianna," Tristan snapped, "Insult me, mock me, I don't care anymore. But stop playing these little games with Emrys."

She blinked. "What—?"

"I saw the photo," he growled. "And I saw your little moment under the tree. First Rael, now Emrys. What's next?"

Gianna's voice was quiet. "Are you keeping tabs on who I talk to now?"

"Why do you always pull them in?" he demanded. "What is it about you that makes every guy forget who he is?"

She stepped forward. "You sound jealous."

"I'm not," he snapped—but the shake in his voice betrayed him. "I just… I hate seeing you twist people. And I hate that they don't see it."

Gianna stared at him, stunned. But before she could speak—

"Enough!" Emrys's voice rang out. "You don't get to talk to her like that."

Tristan turned.

Emrys was walking toward them, slow but firm.

Tristan laughed coldly. "You're defending her now? Of course."

"You're angry because she moved on," Emrys said. "And you're scared you're not the one in control anymore."

Before Tristan could react, Emrys shoved him.

The garden went silent.

Students froze nearby. A few phones were already recording.

Tristan shoved back, harder. "Stay away from her!"

Emrys punched first. Tristan didn't hold back either.

Gianna stepped in between them.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

She grabbed Tristan's wrist. "Why are you acting like this?!"

He looked at her—eyes wild, voice hoarse.

"Because I never had a chance, did I?"

Her heart skipped.

Before she could answer, faculty ran in, breaking up the fight.

Tristan shook free and walked off.

Emrys stood behind, jaw bruised, watching Gianna.

She stood frozen in place, replaying Tristan's words in her head.

Evening – Veymont Mansion Balcony

Gianna leaned on the railing, staring at the city lights.

She could still hear the voice note playing in her head, could still see the way Tristan looked at her in the garden.

Angry. Hurt. Jealous.

And something else.

For the first time in years, she didn't know if she hated him...

Or was afraid of how much she didn't.