The next day. Asteridge Academy.
Ivy stepped through the school gates carrying the exhaustion of a sleepless night and a suppressed fury that burned beneath her skin. Students who crossed her path lowered their heads and stepped aside. Their gazes were a mixture of awe, fear, and barely concealed schadenfreude. News of last night's disastrous Frost-Blackwood meeting had clearly spread.
She walked toward the classroom without expression, ignoring the stares. She had been the center of attention since her first day. A few more whispers didn't matter.
The lunch bell had barely rung when Ethan Sterling appeared at the classroom door.
His warm smile was flawless. His tone, however, allowed no refusal.
"Ivy. Time for the lounge. You know the Asteridge Circle rules."
**This was Ivy's first mandatory noon gathering since becoming an official member of the Asteridge Circle. She knew what this was—a ritual. A test. To see if she was truly willing to become "one of them."**
She followed Ethan to the exclusive Asteridge Circle lounge on the top floor of the main building.
The double doors swung open. Inside was a level of luxury that clashed with the rest of the school—leather sofas, crystal chandeliers, expensive fragrance hanging in the air.
**Several people were already inside.**
Justin Vance had his arm around a pretty girl who wasn't Ivy's deskmate, laughing without a care. Sierra shot Ivy a venomous look as she entered, then lifted her chin smugly, as if something had already gone her way.
Celeste Sterling sat alone in a corner, drinking tea with elegant composure, as if none of this concerned her.
Casper Hawthorne sat nearby, scrolling through his phone with obvious irritation.
And Julian Blackwood—he sat in the farthest armchair, legs crossed, reading a financial journal. He hadn't even looked up since Ivy entered. The cold distance radiating from him was thicker than ever.
Ethan clapped his hands lightly, drawing everyone's attention.
"Now that everyone's here," he said, "as per tradition, our newest member needs to complete a small… initiation ritual."
He smiled at Ivy. His eyes held a deeper meaning.
Icy amusement curled in Ivy's chest. Here it comes.
Sierra's face lit up with excitement and anticipation.
"So Ivy can better understand the 'pleasures' of our Asteridge Circle," Ethan continued, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather, "this afternoon, you'll choose a student you don't like. They'll run an errand for all of us. Buy some afternoon snacks. On their own dime, of course."
**This was clearly coercion. They wanted to drag her into their bullying, into their mud. Make her one of them.**
Everyone's eyes locked onto Ivy.
Sierra waited to see her complicity. Celeste watched in silence. Casper frowned. Julian showed no reaction at all—as if he were elsewhere entirely.
Ivy's gaze swept the lounge. She remembered that poor transfer student—the one who irritated her. Always acting noble and aloof, but when someone bullied her, she just took it in silence.
A vague irritation rose in her chest. Why did those people get to act so high and mighty? Why did they pretend to be different from everyone else?
She leaned back lazily into the leather sofa, pulled out a thin cigarette, and lit it. She exhaled a gray plume of smoke with practiced ease. The movement was fluid, carrying a world-weary grace that seemed older than her years.
Under the watchful eyes of the room, she gestured vaguely toward the window with her cigarette-holding hand.
"That transfer student. What's her name? Whatever." Her voice drifted through the smoke, dripping with casual contempt. "That poor, holier-than-thou look on her face irritates me. Her. Send her."
She spoke as if discussing the weather. As if she hadn't just condemned an innocent person.
Sierra laughed with satisfaction.
A flicker of "just as I expected" passed through Ethan's eyes. He turned to one of his followers and said gently, "Go fetch that student."
Casper frowned and looked away. He still wasn't comfortable with this—but he didn't object.
Celeste lowered her eyes to her tea. Her expression was unreadable.
Only Julian—in the moment Ivy lit her cigarette and spoke those words—his fingers paused on his journal for a fraction of a second. He still didn't look up. But the cold aura around him seemed to grow even heavier.
Soon, the transfer student was brought in. Her uniform was faded. Her ponytail was simple. Her face was pale, her lips pressed tightly together. Her eyes were full of fear and humiliation. In her hand, she clutched an old, worn-out wallet.
Ethan smiled and listed a series of expensive coffee and pastry orders. Then he added gently:
"We'll trouble you to get these. The cost is yours to bear. It's a tradition—welcoming a new member."
The girl's face drained of what little color remained. Her body trembled. Those expenses were astronomical to someone like her.
Just as she turned to leave in despair—
Ivy rose slowly from the sofa.
**A beautiful, arrogant smile bloomed on her face. A poisoned flower. She walked step by step toward the trembling girl. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor, loud in the dead silence of the room.**
She leaned slightly forward, close enough to see every tremor of fear on the girl's pale face. Her voice was soft, as if sharing a secret. The words were pure cruelty.
"Oh? Weren't you so impressive before? So noble and aloof?" Ivy tilted her head, her smile innocent and vicious. "What's this act now?"
She straightened up. With the same cigarette-holding hand, she gestured lazily at the expensive list.
"Buy all of this."
She paused. Savored the utter despair in the girl's eyes.
Then she whispered the devil's next words:
"Or—"
"Get on your knees." She held up her phone, camera aimed at the girl's face. The cold light from the screen illuminated Ivy's beautiful, cruel features. "I'll record it. Your choice."
These words pushed the bullying to its extreme—pure, degrading humiliation.
The lounge was dead silent. Even Sierra held her breath, watching with excited anticipation.
Ethan frowned slightly—but didn't stop it.
Celeste set down her teacup.
Casper shot to his feet, disbelief and fury written across his face.
And the transfer student—tears finally spilled from her eyes. She looked at Ivy with an expression of complete collapse and silent pleading.
In that moment of ultimate pressure—an ice-cold voice shattered the silence.
"Enough."
Julian closed his journal. The sound was soft, but everyone flinched.
He finally looked up. His dark eyes held no warmth. They cut through the smoke and the air and landed on Ivy.
"Ivy Frost." He said her full name. His voice revealed no emotion, but it carried an invisible weight. "You've gone too far."
**Ivy heard his "enough." The twisted pleasure she had felt from bullying vanished instantly, replaced by a deeper irritation. Who did he think he was? A bastard that anyone could step on—and he thought he could tell her what to do?**
Her smile grew brighter. And colder.
"What?" She raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with undisguised mockery. "Our exalted Julian Blackwood—since when do you have sympathy?"
She stepped forward, ignoring the now even tighter atmosphere, and locked her eyes on his unfathomably dark gaze.
"Or is it—"
"Because you're a bastard yourself, you can especially understand what it feels like to be… stepped on?"
The words were vicious. Cruel. They didn't just attack him. They shredded the dignity he had so carefully maintained in the Asteridge Circle.
Justin laughed openly. Sierra smirked triumphantly.
Ethan's frown deepened, but something calculating flickered behind his eyes.
Celeste lowered her gaze.
Casper's anger turned complicated. He looked at Julian, then at Ivy. Finally, he let out a frustrated curse and looked away.
**Julian faced the attack that struck at his core without any expression on his face.**
He just looked at her. His gaze was terrifyingly empty—as if all her malice had fallen into a bottomless abyss, stirring not a single ripple.
After a few seconds, he curved his lips ever so slightly. The smile held no warmth.
"Finished?" His voice was flat.
Then he stopped looking at her. Stopped looking at anyone in the lounge. He picked up his things and walked straight toward the door.
As he passed her, his voice dropped so that only she could hear:
"Ivy Frost. That's all you've got."
He left without looking back.
**The noon gathering ended in discord.**
Casper looked at Ivy with complicated eyes. In the end, he said nothing. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and left first.
Sierra made an ambiguous sound and left arm-in-arm with her brother.
Ethan gave Ivy a long, deep look—the kind of look one gives a damaged piece of art. Then he put his warm smile back on and left with Celeste.
As Celeste passed Ivy, she paused for just a moment. Her voice was cool, meant only for Ivy's ears.
"Attacking his background is the cheapest and most effective way. But be careful. A cornered beast fights back fatally."
She left.
The large lounge emptied. Only Ivy remained—and the transfer student, still collapsed on the floor, sobbing quietly.
Ivy looked at the crying girl. No pity rose in her chest. Instead, the twisted satisfaction from her confrontation with Julian lingered.
"A bastard? He doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as me." She whispered the words to herself, her lips curving into a cold smile.
She turned away gracefully, picked up her bag, and walked out of the lounge, closing the door on the girl's pitiful sobs.
-
After school. The alley behind the teaching building.
Ivy was walking toward her waiting car when someone blocked her path.
Casper Hawthorne. His face was tight. His eyes burned with disapproval and anger.
"Ivy, you went too far today!" He stood in front of her, his voice suppressed but shaking. "Fine—bully the transfer student. Whatever. But why did you have to say that about Julian?!"
Ivy looked at his angry face. A small part of her—deeply buried, rarely shown—stirred.
She knew he wasn't a bad person. Just too straightforward. Easy to use.
Her contempt faded slightly, replaced by something almost like pity.
"Casper," she said his name. "You're fighting this hard for him—do you really think he sees you as a friend?"
She stepped forward, her gaze sharp against his.
"Wake up. This is Asteridge. Everyone wears a mask. Every word is a potential trap. You think that 'friendship' is real? Maybe he's just using your straightforwardness. A convenient pawn."
Casper froze. Her words had hit home.
Before he could respond—an cold voice came from the mouth of the alley.
"Seems like you two are having an interesting conversation about me."
Julian Blackwood stood there.
Hands in his pockets. His tall figure looked even more distant in the dim light.
He had clearly heard at least some of it. Maybe all of it.
**Ivy saw him. Instead of backing down, she lifted her chin. Her face split into a smile that was equal parts provocation and "I knew it."**
"Perfect timing." Her voice was sharp in the quiet alley. "I was just teaching him to see reality. So he doesn't get fooled by someone who pretends to be cold and aloof but is actually calculating behind the scenes."
Casper snapped his head toward Julian. The doubt in his eyes grew more obvious.
Julian faced the accusation without any visible reaction. But his dark eyes grew even deeper.
He didn't answer her immediately. Instead, he turned to Casper.
"Casper. Do you think that too?"
He threw the question back at Casper.
Casper looked at Julian's calm face. Then thought about Ivy's words. His brows locked tight. His inner struggle was written all over his face.
Julian watched him. Then he gave a small, unreadable smile—laced with something like mockery.
He turned back to Ivy.
"Ivy Frost," he said her name. "Do you always assume the worst in people?"
He paused. His voice dropped, slow and deep.
"Or are you just using that to hide something else?"
**His question was like a needle. Sharp. It pierced straight into whatever motive she might have hidden beneath her actions.**
Ivy looked at Casper—at his struggling, confused face. The small, buried part of her won out.
She stopped looking at Julian's too-perceptive eyes. She fixed her gaze on Casper.
"I've said what I needed to say."
Her voice was clear in the quiet alley.
"Believe it or not. Up to you."
She paused. Left one last warning.
"If you get burned later—don't say I didn't warn you."
Then she turned. Ignored the weight of Julian's gaze on her back. Walked toward the bright mouth of the alley.
She could feel two stares following her—one full of confusion and doubt, the other deep and unreadable. They followed her until she turned the corner.