Stella’s POV
I was furious.
No—furious didn’t even begin to describe what I felt.
I’d done everything. Pulled strings. Made calls. Spread whispers that turned into wildfire. I’d made sure the club knew exactly who Freya Madison really was—some low-level charity case pretending she belonged with the rest of us. I even sent that photo to the right forum at the right time. All of it was supposed to humiliate her.
Ruin her.
She wasn’t supposed to still be walking around campus with her head held high.
She wasn’t supposed to have Clarence Finerman looking out for her.
I clenched my fists, pacing back and forth across my room, heels clicking against the floor with every tight step. I couldn’t believe she’d actually recorded me. That pathetic little sneak had the nerve to trap me like that—and worse, she showed it to him.
Clarence.
Of all people, why him?