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“H ello?” I answer my dad’s call, and Sunny sets her head on my stomach like she somehow knows I need her support.

“Alora,” he says angrily. Although I’m not surprised—that’s the only tone I seem to hear from him. “Was our conversation not enough for you to understand?”

My mind flashes back to his visit on campus. “Are you talking about the secret spy you have?”

“Did you think I was kidding when I told you to stay away from Malik Ravenwell?” he snaps.

Why does he care so much about Malik?

“Not really, but I didn’t think you’d mind that much. Why? Do you know each other?” I challenge him, wondering if he’ll fess up to the conversation I caught them in.

“Not at all,” he answers immediately, his tone unwavering. “But from what I’ve got here in my report, he’s not a good fit for you.”

Gripping the phone tighter in my hand, I exhale sharply. “It’s a good thing I don’t care about your approval of who I date.”

“Watch your tone,” he scolds. “You may be an adult, but you are still a representative of this family. You can’t be a floozy, spotted at dinner with Phillip, and then be spotted, kissing Malik later. That is not the Briarwood way, Alora.”

“Honestly, Dad, do you really think that Mom never went on dates with different guys?” I punch back, knowing that bringing her up will strike a nerve.

“Do. Not. Speak. Of. Your. Mother .” The facade of a caring father is missing from his tone, the congressman himself showing up instead. “It doesn’t matter what your mother did before we met, only what she did after. Don’t disrespect her name by using her as a pawn in your argument.”

“Why?” My anger spikes. “You’ve always used her in yours.”

He sighs angrily. “The only thing I’ve ever cared about since losing her is protecting you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do—keep you safe.”

“You have a hell of a way of showing it.”

“Phillip Stephens.” He says his name matter-of-factly. “Do you remember me telling you when you were younger that Phillip was the prince of your story? The one who would sweep you off to a happily ever after. Well, Malik is your villain, the one who curses you from ever rising up to your potential. He’s the one that will destroy you in the end.”

“Dad …” My eyes burn. “Have you ever considered that perhaps the villain all along is you?”

He’s quiet, taking his time to respond. “If you view me as the bad guy, then I can live with that. I can’t live with you falling under his spell.”

“You speak a lot on his behalf for someone who claims to not know him at all.”

“You speak a lot on a subject you don’t truly understand for someone who relies on the kingdom that I’ve spent decades building.” He takes a shaky breath. “Do you like school there? Do you like your accommodations? Because I could change it like that ,” he snaps.

He can do whatever he wants to me. I’ll prevail.

“How about your aunts? Would they be supportive of your new relationship if I stopped funding their lives?”

My blood runs cold.

They have money of their own, but it’s not enough to sustain them. When they left the umbrella of this life, they gave up the wealth, making a deal with my father to live off of a much smaller allowance. But I refuse to let him hurt them because of me.

“You wouldn’t.” I’m breathless.

“Push me, Alora, and you’ll find out that some lessons are harder to learn than others. I’ve never coddled you, but I’ve always done what’s best for you in the end. This is one of those times, Little Rose. One day, you’ll thank me.”

Hearing his childhood nickname for me tugs at my heartstrings, but it does little to ease the bone-chilling fear rattling me to the core.

Three beeps signal that he hung up, but I don’t move the phone from my ear. I’m frozen in place, stunned by what just happened.

I can live with him taking money from me, but from my aunts? The three strongest women I know who gave up everything to raise me? I won’t hurt them in the process.

When I drop the phone into my lap, the screen lights up, and I see the time. Crap, I need to get going. I have practice with Von London. I’m performing the hardest piece today for him.

Sliding off of the bed, I step into my white tennis shoes. They might look odd with the flowy pink corset top and jeans I’m wearing, but I care more about the blood flow in my body than I do the fashion sense.

Hooking Sunny’s leash onto her new pink service dog harness that finally arrived, I grab my purse and water bottle and head to Moor Hall.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the invitation to the showcase this spring. I’m going to prepare the most perfect piece for it.

Music is what makes my soul feel full, and I’m honored that my talent and passion are being recognized. Especially by someone as infamous as him.

Von London waits outside of our usual practice room, his face lighting up when he spots Sunny and me. More nervous than usual, I take a few steady breaths before I reach him.

“Good evening, Alora,” he greets me with a light hug.

“Good evening, sir.”

I awkwardly accept his hug, and he lingers for a moment too long, but I try not to think anything of it.

We have been spending a lot of time together in sessions. It’s normal to grow a fondness for someone, I suppose.

Pulling away, I open the door, letting Sunny lead the way inside.

Taking a seat on the bench, I lift the piano lid and run my fingers over the keys out of habit. Von London walks in behind us, sitting in his usual seat at the table.

“I’ve been looking forward to hearing you play this one. It’s my all-time favorite work.” He gestures with his hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

No pressure, just playing Rupert Von London’s own piece to him, one he knows like the back of his hand.

Setting the music up on the stand, I close my eyes as my fingers find their starting place. I don’t need the music; I’ve memorized it already, as I often do with any composition I play more than a handful of times.

Something about the music just clicks into my brain.

I inhale, and then I strike the first chords on the exhale, my breath flowing through the notes. And then I melt away into the song, my body simply a vessel to bring the melodic art to life.

I can see why this piece is special to him; there are two very distinct voices in it. Pushing and pulling back and forth until the song ends in an entirely different key, symbolizing the merging of the two and a birth of something new.

As I finish the song, I realize he’s moved, standing a few feet right of the bench I’m sitting on.

He lightly claps and takes a seat on the bench beside me, his leg pressed firmly against mine.

“Beautiful as always, my dear.” His voice is close, the warmth of his breath touching my ear.

Scooting away from him politely, I smile, turning my head just slightly his way. “Thank you.”

He flips to the third page and points. “Can you play from here again?”

Nodding, I straighten my spine and align my fingers on the white keys. A second later, I’m once again lost in the song, my consciousness drifting to the back of my mind.

Bony fingers slide along my upper thigh, tearing me from my happy place and dragging me into a nightmare I never could’ve imagined.

My eyes fly open and land on Von London’s hand on my leg. I should yell at him to stop; I should move away from his touch.

But it’s like my brain is short-circuiting and I’m stuck in place as it reboots.

“W-what are you doing?” I gasp, coming back into control of my body.

He smiles at me as if this were a normal part of our sessions, as if we did this every time. Which we most certainly have not.

“You are incredible, Alora,” he praises me, and a chill snakes down my spine chills.

I inch away from him, but he stretches his arm with me, keeping it secured on my thigh.

“Sir, this isn’t appropriate.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “I know there are guidelines against students fraternizing with teachers. But don’t worry; I won’t let anyone find out.”

Scooting closer to the wall at my left, I realize I’m nearly trapped between the piano, the wall, and him, the only gap between the wide bench and wall a few inches. Shit.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Is this some kind of sick test to see if I’m willing to cheat to get ahead?

“Mr. Von London, there is no us.” My voice is shakier than I’d like.

Sliding closer to me, he moves his hand from my thigh to the back of my waist, wrapping it around my side and tugging me into him in one surprisingly strong move.

He presses his lips against my ear. “I understand your reservations. But it’s okay, really. You know as much as I do how important music is. Imagine what we could create together.”

My head shakes back and forth as I lean away from his hot breath. “No. No, I do not.”

Surely, this is just a misunderstanding, and I’ve led him on somehow.

His brows furrow, and his eyes darken. But they don’t give me the same giddy feeling Malik’s darkened gaze does. Rupert makes my skin start to crawl.

I told him no. I showed him that I was uncomfortable. Any reasonable person would recognize these signs and back the hell off.

My stomach twists when the realization hits me … he is anything but a reasonable and respectable person.

The tips of his fingers sink into my side, pressing into the silky pink corset top. “Just relax, okay?”

He presses his lips against my cheek, and I slam my eyes shut at the contact.

“Please stop,” I whimper, understanding that the person I’ve idolized for years is just a creep who doesn’t deserve the pedestal he lives on.

He kisses my cheek again, this time closer to my mouth. “You were invited to the showcase.” His tone unsettles me. “Do you want it to stay that way?”

My eyes fly open. “Are you blackmailing me to sleep with you?”

Shaking his head with a smile, he murmurs, “No, doll, I’m blackmailing you to get you on your knees. I’m not that much of a monster.”

“It’s hard to tell when you’re assaulting me.” My words gain stability as an eerie calmness settles into my skin.

Maybe this is the moment of freeze, fight, or flight. Maybe it’s not a pick or choose, but an order of actions. I already froze, which means I’m onto step two.

For the first time in my life, I’m going to do something I’ve always hated my father for—wielding his name, title, and place in the world as a weapon.

Turning my head to face him, I snarl, “I assume you know my last name.”

He nods thoughtlessly, his fingers still wrapped around my waist. “I do.”

I chuckle darkly, and it sounds like a warning bubbling out of me. “Then you know it’s the same one who just made a five-million-dollar donation to the music department. Do you think my name holds no weight at this school? Because you would be very, very wrong.”

He stays quiet, studying me intently.

“You may think you’re the one with the power in this dynamic, but you’re sorely mistaken. I can have your job eliminated with a single call. I can ruin your tenure with HEAU and make sure you’re not hired at any school in this country.”

He begins to shrink as I sit up taller and taller, feeling a hint of power igniting in my blood.

His seemingly sweet demeanor falls, his lips twisting in a snarl. “You spoiled brat. You have a lot of confidence for someone who lives in her dad’s shadow.”

“Yeah? Are you willing to take your chances?” I challenge him.

“I sure am,” he growls unexpectedly.

Shit.

He launches himself at me, and his lips crash against mine before I get a chance to even react.

Oh God, eww. Stop!

His other hand falls to the front of my corset, slipping inside of the top. He cups my bare breast, and my soul begins to leave my body as my chest tightens.

“Get off of me! Why the hell are you doing this?” I scream, and he rips the hand from my top and slaps it over my mouth.

An odd calmness finds him, as if he has no fear in the world of being caught or me overpowering him. A terrifying sight.

“Because everyone who finds success in this industry has to make sacrifices to get there. This is yours.”

His words sear into my mind, and I know they’ll be there forever.

I tried to freeze . I tried to fight . Only one option left.

He leans back in for a kiss, and I rear my arm back and punch him straight in the throat. A goose-like honk sounds from him as he gasps for air and clutches his neck.

Standing from the bench, I hop over his legs. But he grabs the strappy back of my top, yanking me back toward him.

But I don’t stop. I stride forward as hard as I can, hearing fabric tear as I pull away from him, feeling cold air hit my lower back.

“Stop!” I scream at him, hoping someone outside of the room will overhear, but I know it’s unlikely. These rooms were built to be nearly soundproof.

But he doesn’t stop as he rises to his feet. Sunny rushes over to me, starting to become well aware of the threat.

She positions herself between my legs, standing guard.

He looks down at her and laughs. “A little golden isn’t going to hurt me. Alora, stop making this such a big deal. It was just a few kisses from someone who admires you. I had to pay my dues to get to this level. And eventually, you’ll have to pay yours.”

For a split second, I consider his gaslighting words, and I wonder if I’m really blowing this out of proportion. But as he steps toward me again, with my lip gloss smeared on his face and redness on his neck, I know that I’m not.

“Give me one more kiss and I’ll forget all about this, including you threatening a teacher. We can keep all of this just between us. Right?” He steps toward me, and Sunny starts to growl.

This has already gone on for far too long. He somehow senses my urge to flee and lunges forward, wrapping his hand around my wrist.

“Ahh!” I yelp as someone else screams.

Looking down, I see Sunny’s teeth clamped down on his arm, blood oozing around the bite.

He kicks his leg at her but misses. But I won’t.

Planting my hands on his shoulders, I drive my knee as hard as I can into his groin, feeling a gross, squishy, bursting sensation as my knee flattens against his pelvis.

Collapsing to the ground with Sunny still latched on to him, he screams out in pain, but I don’t waste a second grabbing my purse and Sunny’s leash.

“Drop it,” I tell her, and she releases his arm like she would a chew toy.

“Good girl. Come on,” I grab my purse and rush out of the room into a nearly empty hallway.

There was no one here who was going to save me if Sunny and I hadn’t done it on our own. But not everyone has a Sunny, and the thought that he’s tried this before makes me want to puke.

Walking as fast as I can manage, I exit Moor Hall, feeling the cold air peel his choking grip from my body. My eyes start to well up with tears as I swallow hard.

A wave of disgust and vulnerability washes over me.

Tears start to roll down my cheeks as I look left and right, my gaze bouncing between two paths.

One to my dorm. One to the rink, which is a lot closer to me than my room. It also has the one person in it who I need more than anything else right now.

My feet are moving before I realize it, rushing toward the arena. My breathing starts to rattle in my throat.

Keeping my arms tight to my sides to hold my shirt up, I race to Malik, needing to feel him wrap me up and shield me from the world.

My heart constricts. I didn’t realize how fast he had become my safe space.

I don’t care if things are a tad shaky with us. They are bound to be after everything we’ve been through. But all I know is that right now, the thought of anyone’s else’s touch makes me want to gag. I need him.

Throwing the arena door open, I rush inside, getting stopped by security.

“Excuse me, ma’am. What’s your name?”

He looks at me more intently, recognizing my distress.

“A-Alora Briarwood.”

“Are you okay?” He checks a list on a clipboard. “I’ve got you down here as approved visitors. But do you need any help?”

Shaking my head, I rush past him with Sunny, hearing the sound of pucks smacking against the boards getting louder and louder as I reach the double-door entrance to the rink.

The cold feels good against my skin—extra cold on my cheeks, where my tears are still flowing.

When I walk into view of the players, a few of them spot me immediately. But I don’t recognize any of them.

Someone shouts down to the ice, “Ravenwell!”

And then I see him.

On the opposite end, his head whips my way, and even through the cage, I can feel his stare find me instantly.

Without a second thought, he digs his skates into the ice and takes off toward me, followed by Griffin and Asher.

One of the guys near me ushers me over to the board, opening the door. But I don’t tear my stare from Malik as his gaze becomes more and more worried, the closer he gets.

I start to shiver, my teeth chattering.

Malik jumps off the ice and rushes over to me, panic straining his eyes.

When I look up at him through blurry tears, my voice cracks. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Pulling me forward, he encases me in his arms, shielding me from the world with his head on top of mine. “Always to me, Bug. Always to me.”

The world starts to fade as he keeps me in his somehow-warm embrace. But as he pulls back and cups my cheeks with his hands, the tear factory starts back up.

“Alora, what happened?” His voice cracks with sorrow and pain.

But for some reason, I don’t say anything at all.

His thumbs gently brush back and forth as his eyes travel over every inch of me, looking for any answer he can find.

“Holy shit,” Asher says in shock as he nears us.

“Asher, go get my sweatshirt from the locker room!” Malik orders him away, and he listens without hesitation.

My mind starts to feel foggy, like a few wires have come unplugged. His eyes are staring at me so deeply; I can feel his gaze reach inside of me like a hug, warming me from the inside out.

Sniffling, I shiver more and more as Asher runs back over, holding a black sweatshirt.

“Turn around,” Malik snaps at everyone, and they listen instantly, turning their backs to us.

Pressing my corset against me, he holds it in place with one hand. “I’ll hold this. You slip this on, okay?”

His words are soft, but his jaw is tight, like he’s far angrier than he’s letting on.

I take the sweatshirt from him, lifting my arms and sliding the hoodie over my head, down past my stomach. He pulls the broken top out from beneath the sweatshirt, tossing it to the ground beside us.

“Hey, look at me, baby.” He grabs my cheeks again and bends over, lowering his eyes to my level. I didn’t even realize I wasn’t looking at him. “Who did this to you? Who hurt you?”

“R-Rupert.” My voice sounds like a stranger, and as the adrenaline begins leaving my system, I become all too aware of what’s coming next. “Malik, I don’t feel good. I’m going to puke.”

He rushes over, grabs the big trash can, and places it in front of me just in time.

Leaning into it, I heave, all contents of my stomach exploding into the trash bag. My hair is pulled back from my face as my stomach contracts again, upheaving anything it can.

He rubs my back as I expel all of my energy. Sunny licks my leg, showing her support. It also means that my heart rate is getting too high. It’s already too high.

Once I feel the nausea fade, I straighten my spine and turn back toward him. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out as a high-pitched sound rings in my ears, drowning everything else out.

And then my vision goes dark.

* * *

My eyes flutter open, and it takes me a moment to realize where I am and to remember what happened. The brain fog is thick and hard to think through.

My throat is dry as I look up at the man carrying me. “Malik?”

His gaze drops to me. “There you are, Bug. Open those pretty eyes for me.”

“Where are we?” Glancing around, I have to stop trying to take in my surroundings because everything’s still a bit wavy.

“Heading back to your dorm room,” he murmurs softly. “We’re almost there.”

Resting my head against Malik’s chest, I bunch his jersey in my fist and squeeze my eyes tight. But the moment I do, I see Rupert’s face inches from mine.

“You’re safe,” Malik whispers to me. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll never get near you again.”

I want to ask how he’s so certain, but right now, I don’t care. I don’t want to think about him. I want to focus on the one who has walked almost a mile with me in his arms.

My heart grows a new soft spot for this boy. “You’ve carried me the whole way?”

He grins down at me. “Sunny helped.”

As the ringing in my ears fades away, I hear her pitter-patter on the concrete next to us. I chuckle. “Yeah, she seems to be carrying a lot of my weight. If you give me a second, I can walk.”

“No,” he states firmly. “I’m carrying you. You need to rest. I don’t care if I had to carry you a hundred miles, I would do it.”

And there he is—that warm, affectionate Malik that I’ve come to lov?—

Whoa. That thought came out of nowhere.

“Are you okay?” He looks down worriedly.

My eyes are wide, but I quickly fix them. “Yeah.”

We reach the front entrance of the dorm building.

“My keys are in my purse,” I tell him, seeing the strap looped over his shoulder.

He smirks deviously. “Don’t need them, remember? I have one of my own.”

I hear his keys jingle beneath me in his hand.

“I forgot you were batshit crazy.”

He winks at me. “Only for you.”

Unlocking the front door, he carries me inside, Sunny right behind us, her leash hooked on Malik’s wrist. When he brings Sunny and me into the elevator, I protest at his chivalry.

“I can walk, Malik. You can put me down.”

“I know,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “But I can’t.”

Unlocking my door, he lets Sunny in first before carrying me through the threshold and setting me down on my bed.

Scooching up against my pillows, I see all of him and recognize that the shoes he’s wearing aren’t his—at least ones I’ve never seen. “Are those yours?” I point at the all-black tennis shoes that look too small for his feet.

He chuckles. “Nope. Borrowed them from our security guy.” He kicks them off.

I don’t want him to leave. I want him to stay here with me, but I also don’t know if that’s something he’d be comfortable with.

“Do you have to go back?” My voice is quiet.

His eyes lift, vulnerability twinkling in his gaze. “You want me to stay?”

Nodding, I scoot over in bed to make room for him.

A smile takes over his lips, revealing that perfect grin. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I peel the blanket back. “I can change into pajamas if you want your sweatshirt back.”

“I don’t need it.” He takes his jersey off and the rest of his chest gear and undershirt, until he’s standing before me in only black socks and boxers. “I may need you to help keep me warm though.”

Blushing, I chuckle softly. “I think I can do that.”

He rubs the back of his neck and glances away from me. “Is that what I think it is?”

Following his line of sight to the folded-up Legends T-shirt on top of my desk, I laugh. “It sure is. You can wear it if you’d like … but it might be a little short on you.”

Biting his tongue, he looks at me playfully and menacingly. “Thank you for your permission to wear my shirt.”

Clicking my tongue, I grin. “Of course.”

When he slips the half shirt over his head and broad shoulders, I giggle at the sight in front of me.

The shirt stops at the top of his absolutely shredded abs. The kind of physique that extends up his sides, every inch of his torso at peak strength.

Maybe I should cut all his shirts in half.

He walks over to the bed with a smile on his lips and slides in next to me, hooking his arm around my shoulders to pull me closer to him.

When I curl into his chest with my arms tucked between us, the air seems to weigh down on us, heavier than before, as if I can feel the questions loading in his mind.

Brushing my hair with his fingers, he softly asks, “What happened, baby?”

Swallowing hard, I know I want to tell him. But forming those words on my lips feels like an impossible task.

He gives me silence, letting me mull through the thoughts racing through my mind. Leaning forward, he kisses my forehead and breathes me in.

Taking a shaky breath, I tell him what happened—from the very beginning when Professor Von London hugged me to when I ran from the room with Sunny. Every detail, every moment, every thought.

Listening intently, he stays quiet, not interrupting once. And when I finish, his eyes are watery, and as if his feelings for me are tangible, I can feel them wrap around my heart.

Holding me tightly, he consoles me, constantly reminding me that I’m safe and that he’ll never let anything happen to me again. We embrace one another for what feels like forever, until I fall asleep in his arms.