Chapter 33: I’ll Help You

Amelie didn’t even wait for an invitation. A knowing, playful smirk touched her lips as she looked up at him through her thick-rimmed glasses, her chest rising and falling beneath the stretched fabric of her tight white crop top.

"Are you just going to keep standing there holding the door open, Brown," she purred softly, tilting her head, "or were you going to invite me in?"

Morales face remained entirely devoid of expression. His dark, soulless eyes locked onto hers with a chilling intensity. Without a word, he stepped aside just enough for her to cross the threshold, and the moment she was inside, he slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind her.

Before Amelie could even take a breath to steady herself, Morales moved with terrifying, predatory speed.

Thud.

He surged forward, pressing her back violently against the corridor wall. His heavy, muscular arms slammed flat against the wood on either side of her head, completely caging her small frame between his chest and the surface. The sudden impact knocked the breath out of her lungs, her eyes widening behind her glasses as she stared up into his ice-cold gaze.

"W-Wait.....what are you doing?" Amelie gasped, her hands instinctively coming up to push against his chest, though her tight jeans and curvy waist were pressed flush against him. "I only came here to talk about the group project! Nothing else!"

Morales leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, suffocating whisper that vibrated straight through her soul. No emotion flickered in his electric-blue eyes, only absolute, unyielding interrogation.

"Cut the crap, Amelie," Morales commanded coldly. "How do you know about the bounty? Why are you living in the room right across from mine? Who the hell are you really, and are you stalking me, or were you planning to broadcast my exact room number to every bounty hunter on campus?"

Panic flared in Amelie’s eyes. She shook her head frantically, her blonde hair whipping across her shoulders. "I’m not stalking you! It’s... it’s because of my brother!"

A slow, cynical smile touched the corner of Morales lips. He figured she was finally about to break and confess. "Elaborate."

"My brother is the King of the Prestige Class," she blurted out, her voice rushing out in a nervous panic. "He’s a senior. He barely spends any time in his dorm, which happens to be the one directly across from yours. I chose this room because no one dares target me here! Back in the main freshman girls dorms, every single girl was trying to use me to get to him, either begging for his money or his protection. They wanted to get under his trousers just to secure a spot in his faction!"

She paused, her chest heaving as she swallowed hard, her eyes darting away for a split second before meeting his gaze again. "And... and someone published an anonymous post on the dark web exposing you as the absolute poorest student in the school, detailing how you only got into Prestige Class through a glitch in the administrative system."

Morales grimaced at her words, his jaw tightening slightly. "My brother knows everything happening in the Prestige hierarchy," Amelie continued, her voice trembling slightly under his crushing proximity. "He tells me almost everything, except how to organize my exams, which I hate him for because he wants me to earn my credits entirely on my own merit or jealous that I might surpass him.

He was the one who told me about the bounty on your head, too! But that wasn’t why I came here tonight. I swear to God, I only came to talk about the group assignment!"

Morales let out a dry, disdainful scoff.

Slowly, he unhooked his arms from the wall, stepping back and giving her space. He walked over to his sleek desk chair, dropping into it and picking up his terminal without a single glance in her direction.

"So what about the group project?" Morales asked flatly.

"Since you’re the leader of our assigned unit, seeing as you hold the highest entry grade among the freshman pack, I want us to bring the others together."

"Bring all of them together? What fucking leader are you even talking about."

Amelie caught her breath, smoothing down her tight jeans as she stepped away from the wall. "Ummmm...."

"I don’t want to be the leader, and I don’t care about your little plan," Morales cut her short, his eyes fixed on his screen.

Amelie blinked, her jaw dropping in shock. "Huh?"

"You heard me clearly," Morales said without looking up. "I want you to be the leader."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Amelie stammered, stepping closer to his desk. "The group leader earns double the credit distribution and immunity bonuses! You need those points more than anyone!"

’I don’t care about extra credits,’ Morales thought darkly. ’If I’m leader and something goes off the rails or if I end up snapping someone’s neck and getting expelled, I’ll just become the primary target for institutional failure. I’d rather stay in the shadows and let someone else take the administrative heat.’

"I said no," Morales repeated coldly. "Take the position."

Amelie gritted her teeth, crossing her arms beneath her perky breasts, which only made the fabric of her tight crop top strain further. "Fine! I’ll be the leader! But the first step of this assignment is to gather the entire group so we can prepare our venue and strategy. Where are you going to be?"

"I care less about this damn test," Morales replied dismissively, scrolling through his terminal. "So how about you take your business elsewhere while I handle mine?"

"Stop being such an impossible jerk, Brown!" Amelie snapped, her frustration finally boiling over. "You know the sixth academy rule! If our group fails this practical exam, your bounty will skyrocket because every desperate bounty hunter on campus will realize you’re an easy target for total academic failure!

And don’t forget, the number 6 rule says to make an impression by securing a top-five in two exams to beat the inclusion clause!"

"I know the rules," Morales answered lazily, not batting an eye. "And I still don’t give a shit about this institutional theater."

"Remember the expulsion rule! If you fail, you’re out!" she yelled.

"I’ll borrow as much money as I need to buy my way out of any penalty," Morales retorted smoothly. "Everyone knows capital bends the rules around here."

Amelie clenched her fists, her face flushing red with exasperation. "We’re going to fail! And I’ll lose my standing right along with you and the others!"

"Like I said," Morales murmured, finally lifting his gaze from his screen to look her dead in the eye,

She wanted to threaten him about what happened in the class today, how he refrained from beating the jerk when students started rushing in, but she wasn’t sure about that. "I’ll handle it."

For a long moment, the room fell dead silent. Amelie stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Then, a calculating gleam shifted behind her glasses. She let out a long breath, her posture softening.

"Fine," Amelie whispered, her voice dropping to a serious, conspiratorial tone. "I’ll help you."

Morales raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting back to her fully. "Oh?"

"I’ll help you find out who posted that anonymous bounty on your head," Amelie offered, stepping closer to the edge of his desk.

A dark, triumphant smile touched Morales’ lips. Got her right where I wanted.

While Morales could tear through the academy’s mainframe himself, doing so would trigger campus-wide red alerts and force him into endless physical altercations with security enforcers while trying to track down the bounty creator.

Having the sister of the Prestige King willingly break through the institutional firewall from the inside was a much cleaner play.

He leaned back in his chair, his electric-blue eyes locking onto hers with a predator’s satisfaction.

"Talk," Morales commanded softly. "Let’s hear your proposal." And he grinned wide, it looked so expressionless, that she could tell if it was real or fake.