3– The Principal's Office
They returned to the classroom. The teacher resumed the class as if nothing had happened. The lesson was proceeding normally when, in the middle of it, the classroom speaker gave a short crackle. "Terry, report to the principal's office immediately." Silence fell at once. Some glances lifted. Others were already fixed on him. Eliza said nothing. She just watched him. She leaned slightly toward his cheek and gave him a soft kiss. At that instant, a trickle of blood came from her nose. It was more intense this time, almost abrupt. She brought her hand to her face as some students let out a contained, surprised sound. But her expression didn't change. She leaned a little closer and murmured: "Good luck, my alpha. I'll be waiting for you, your moon." Terry stood up. He left the classroom under the weight of the stares. He walked down the hallway to the principal's door. Knocked twice. "Come in."
He entered. Sebastián and his group were there. Sebastián had his torso bandaged and part of his face covered with gauze. He had clearly been to the nurse's office. Also there were his mother and father, and the school principal. As soon as Terry crossed the door, Sebastián's mother stood up immediately. "What kind of beast are you?" she spat without restraint. "How dare you hit my son like that? My son is an innocent young man. What could he have done to you for you to attack him like that? Why do you bully him?" The atmosphere tensed instantly. The mother turned to the principal. "How is it possible that these kinds of people enter such a prestigious school? We pay a very high tuition. It is not acceptable to share space with… this." She pointed at Terry without hiding her contempt. "Who are this boy's parents? What family does he come from?" The principal cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "The student has no mother," he replied formally. "He lives only with his father. He is here on an academic scholarship." The silence grew tense. Sebastián's father let out a short, dry laugh. "No wonder," he murmured. "A poor kid." The mother nodded with a haughty gesture. "Let him kneel before my son," she ordered. "Let him apologize right now." Sebastián, bandaged, pretended to have difficulty breathing. His eyes were moist, his voice broken. "I did nothing…" he said weakly. "I was just in the cafeteria… He attacked me for no reason." The mother put an arm around him, over protectively. "This is abuse," she added. "My son is the victim."
The principal, under pressure, looked at Terry sternly. "You must apologize," he said. "Immediately. This is not negotiable." The mother intervened again. "An apology is not enough. Let him kneel." The father went further. "Let him kiss my son's shoes," he sentenced coldly. "And clean them with his clothes. Maybe then he'll learn his place." Terry did not respond. He just looked at them. There was no fear in his expression. Nor visible rage. Only a tense stillness. The father stepped toward him, trying to grab his shoulder to force him to bow. Terry stepped back quickly. "Don't touch me," he said firmly. The room fell silent.
Shouts filled the office. The mother kept accusing. The father demanded immediate punishment. The principal also raised his voice. In the office there were two burly men: the bodyguards of Sebastián's parents. The father pointed at Terry with rage. "Grab him! Force him to his knees!" The bodyguards advanced without hesitation. Terry tried to dodge them. He stepped back, turned his body, but one grabbed his arm and the other his shoulder. They tried to force him to the ground. A brief and violent struggle began. Terry broke free with a sudden movement. One of the bodyguards lost his balance and fell backward, crashing into Sebastián's mother, who let out a sharp scream. The other was pushed against the wall and hit with a dull noise. The tension exploded. Sebastián's father lunged at Terry and slapped him twice, fast and hard. The sound echoed in the office. Terry's head turned from the impact. A trickle of blood slowly ran from his nose. The principal stood up abruptly. "Kneel right now!" he shouted. "You have to apologize!" He pointed to the floor in front of Sebastián. "They are important people. Who do you think you are to defy this family? You are nobody." The mother added with contempt: "Let him kneel and apologize." The father repeated: "Let him kiss my son's shoes and clean them with his clothes. That way he'll learn his place."
Terry remained standing. Blood marking his lip. Head unbowed. At the moment the bodyguards tried again to grab Terry, the door opened with a dry thud. Eliza entered. Her presence stopped the room's motion as if she had broken an invisible thread. "Stop," she said firmly, without raising her voice. "What do you think you're doing?" Everyone turned to her, surprised. Sebastián's mother looked her up and down. "And who are you?" she spat venomously. "Meddlesome girl. Get out of here right now. You don't know who you're messing with." Eliza did not step back. She did not blink. She did not lower her gaze. She bore the woman's contempt as if it were smoke that couldn't touch her. "You don't know who you're messing with either."
The tension rose another degree. Sebastián's mother lost her patience. Her voice broke into a sharp scream. "Grab that insolent brat!" she ordered the bodyguards. The men advanced toward Eliza without hesitation. Terry reacted instantly. He didn't even think. His body moved before his mind. He stepped between them and her, blocking the way with a firmness that needed no explanation. "Don't you dare touch her." One of the bodyguards tried to push him aside with a direct shove, confident in his strength. Terry responded without hesitation. He threw a quick, precise punch straight to the first man's torso, forcing him back with a grunt. The second tried to grab his shoulder, but Terry turned and landed another blow that made him stagger. Both men were forced to retreat, surprised by the boy's speed and strength. The confrontation reignited inside the office. The principal raised his voice. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. Eliza looked at him with imperturbable serenity. "Eliza. The new transfer student." The principal pointed to the door. "Leave immediately. This matter does not concern you." She didn't move. "It does concern me," she replied calmly. "I was in the cafeteria. Since I arrived, I've seen that imbecile brat harassing Terry." The silence tightened again. Mary Blackwood stepped forward. "The only meddler here is you, girl," she spat. "You have nothing to do with this matter." "So you're part of this too?" Eliza held her gaze without wavering. "No. He only defended me. Your son tried to touch me and harass me." The words fell like a dry blow in the office. Mary Blackwood pressed her lips together, furious. "Do you know who you're messing with?" she said in an icy voice. "You have no idea." She turned to her husband. "Henry, call your contacts. I want this girl removed from this country and this school immediately." Then she pointed at Terry. "And throw that brat in jail for assaulting our son."
The principal, losing all control, stepped toward Eliza with the clear intention of grabbing her. He reached out to take her arm. Eliza reacted before he could touch her. The slap sounded like a whip. "How dare you touch me?" The principal stood motionless, his hand suspended in the air. Eliza watched him with a serenity that brutally contrasted with the chaos around. "Do you know the names of the owners of this school?" The man swallowed. A tremor ran through his jaw. "Don't tell me you are… Eliza…?" She spoke with impeccable clarity. "Eliza von Armand." The surname fell like a sentence. The principal turned pale instantly. "No… it can't be…" "Yes," she continued, without raising her voice. "The von Armand family owns this institution. You work for us." The principal began to sweat. He stepped back, then another, until his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "Miss von Armand… I beg your pardon… I didn't know…" Henry Blackwood intervened with a tense, almost broken voice. "Excuse me… Miss von Armand… are you saying your family owns Rayo Azul?" Eliza looked at him without any emotion. "No. It's not my family." A brief, sharp pause. "Yes. I am the owner of Rayo Azul, the telecommunications company where you are the CEO." The silence was absolute. "The school belongs to me. And Rayo Azul as well. You work for me."
The color drained from Henry Blackwood's face. He stepped back three, four steps, as if the air had become solid. He tripped over the chair and fell to the floor. Mary Blackwood, still agitated, tried to protest. "This is ridiculous! You can't—!" Henry stood up abruptly and, desperate, slapped her to shut her up. No one spoke again. The hierarchy in the room had completely changed.
The principal tried to compose himself. But his voice came out broken. "Miss von Armand… please… don't make any hasty decisions… We can solve this another way…" Eliza did not respond. Not immediately. She let him speak. She let him sink alone. "I'll call my assistant," he said hurriedly. "She can clarify all this." He picked up the phone. Dialed. Waited. Minutes later, the door opened. A woman entered. Steady step. Neat. She looked as if measuring distances. "Principal," she said. "Did you need me?" The principal pointed urgently. "May I present the owner of the school." The woman turned her gaze. And when she saw her… she understood. Her posture changed instantly. "Miss von Armand…" She bowed her head slightly. It was not a polite gesture. It was recognition. Eliza watched her. Without hurry. With that silence that weighs more than an order. "You are Miss Smith." It was not a question. "Yes, miss." Brief silence. Long enough for the principal to sweat. "Good," said Eliza. "As of this moment, your position changes." The assistant showed no surprise. Only attention. Because she knew. "From now on," Eliza continued, "you will be the new principal of this institution." The air tightened. The principal paled. "What…?" Eliza didn't even look at him. "Take the position immediately, Miss Smith." "Yes, miss," she replied without hesitation. Without doubt. Without blinking. Then Eliza turned her head. Finally. Toward the principal. Like someone crushing an insect without rushing. "You are fired." The words fell without emotion. Without hatred. Without effort. Like a sentence that was already written before he was born. "Collect your things." Pause. "And leave immediately."
No one spoke. No one moved. Because there was nothing to argue. Only something to accept. The hierarchy had already changed. And everyone knew it.