Chapter 116: Back To School

Through the tall arched windows of the driveway, I caught sight of the car in question—a matte-black luxury sedan that screamed exorbitant wealth, armored plating, and definitely nobility.

Bradford flinched, his eyes widening in pure horror as he rapidly raised both hands to refuse.

"No, no, absolutely not!" he sputtered, backing away from the key as if it were on fire. "What on earth would the staff and students say if the school janitor drove onto campus in a machine worth more than a decade of my wages?! It would cause an uproar!"

I leaned against the mahogany wall, quietly observing his panicked reaction.

A thought flickered in my mind: Maybe he should just change jobs.

With our current situation, the Morningstar backing, and the resources available, he didn’t need to break his back mopping high-born floors and enduring condescending sneers every day.

But I didn’t voice it aloud. My father was an honest, hardworking man who took genuine pride in earning his keep without taking hand-outs.

It was his choice to work wherever he pleased, and I wasn’t going to strip away his dignity by telling him what to do with his life.

"Father is right," I stepped forward, cutting into the conversation before the house manager could insist. I turned to the manager with a calm, neutral gaze. "Driving that onto school grounds will draw unnecessary attention. Is there a driver available who can drop us off a few blocks away from the main gate? Close enough to walk the rest of the way, but far enough that we won’t be spotted."

The manager paused, then bowed respectfully. "Of course, Miss Wells. A discreet vehicle and driver will be ready at the front in five minutes."

"Thank you," I nodded. Bradford let out a long, audible breath of relief, patting his chest as he walked out toward the driveway.

Ten minutes later, an unmarked town car dropped us off behind a line of dense cypress trees, two streets away from the Academy’s main entrance.

Bradford gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, reminding me to stay out of trouble before he hurried off toward the maintenance annex near the back gates.

I turned toward the grand wrought-iron gates of Ravenhollow Academy.

The moment my boots clicked onto the stone pavement of the main courtyard, the usual ambient chatter of the campus died down to a sharp, hostile murmur.

Dozens of eyes swung toward me like tracking scopes. With the Tournament of Power roster now officially public across every territorial board, I was practically walking through the halls with a massive neon target painted onto my forehead.

"Look, she actually showed up."

"Is she insane? An unawakened Omega participating in the tournament?"

"I bet she’s just desperate for attention. Or maybe she thinks some Alpha will take pity and forfeit."

"The Almond heir can’t save her once she gets in the ring. She’s done."

"Serves her right. She’s going to get snapped in half in Round 1."

Smirks, snickers, and mocking glares followed my every step. To these pampered high-borns, I was Grey Moon’s disposable joke—a helpless little prey animal marching toward the slaughterhouse.

I kept my face blank, my stride steady and unaffected, letting their useless noise wash over me like dead leaves.

When I reached the classroom, the atmosphere shifted from idle mockery to thick, oily malice.

Standing near the center desks, surrounded by his usual pack of sycophants, was Kano.

The very same arrogant Alpha who the original, naive Brianna had once written pathetic love letters to—the boy who had publicly humiliated her, shredded her dignity, and treated her like dirt beneath his shoes.

Ever since I had taken over this body, I had shut him down, twisted his pride, and made it abundantly clear he was nothing more than an insect to me.

Yet, with my name now on the tournament board, his bruised ego seemed to have found fresh, ugly confidence.

And right behind him, like a delicate flower seeking refuge behind a sturdy wall, was Valentina Morningstar.

Edgar’s dear younger sister.

Flanked by her two faithful attack dogs, Jane and Stephanie, Valentina had her hands clasped demurely in front of her uniform skirt, wearing that signature, wide-eyed ’white lotus’ expression she loved to put on so much.

Jane and Stephanie were visibly stiff, their eyes flickering with lingering terror—they hadn’t forgotten what I had done to them back at Edgar’s suite. But with Kano standing tall in front of them and the entire school backing their mockery, they were puffing out their chests again, desperate to look smug.

Maybe I should’ve hit them harder.

Valentina didn’t even need to lift a finger today. With the whole student body already tearing me apart, she could just hide behind the crowd, play the sweet, innocent lady, and let Kano do her dirty work.

Cute.

She really thought I had forgotten the disgusting little threat she made toward my father. She thought because she was Edgar’s blood, hiding behind a dense wall of loud-mouthed Alphas, she was safe from me.

I will definitely get her back for it all, ten fold. Timing... is everything.

Now, where was my seat?

I scanned the rows of neat, polished desks until my gaze landed on the far corner at the back of the classroom.

There it was.

The surrounding desks had all been pushed several feet away, isolating it like a quarantined zone of disease. Piled high over the wooden surface was a sickening heap of filth: crumpled food wrappers, soggy muck, rotting garbage, and smeared tomato paste dripping in thick, red streaks down the legs.

Right dead in the center lay a stiff, gray carcass of a dead rat. Carved and scribbled deep into the wood were crude, jagged slurs—TRASH, SLUT, DIE.

A sudden, faint flicker of memory surfaced in my mind—an echo of the original Brianna sitting in that exact spot, small hands clamped tightly on her lap, trembling shoulders drawn inward as her tear-filled eyes stared blankly out the window, praying for the bell to ring.

That was her seat.

I didn’t get angry... not yet.

I walked calmly past the aisles, stepping right up to the desecrated desk. My expression remained eerily smooth as I turned my head, casting a cold, sweep of a glance across the room.

"Who did this?" I asked, my voice deceptively quiet.

The classroom erupted into petty snickers and stifled laughter. Desks rattled as students nudged each other, thoroughly amused by the sight of the outcast being treated like the garbage they believed she was.

Kano stepped forward, his chest puffed out, flanked by two of his usual lackeys. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, an insufferably smug sneer plastered across his face.

"Well, well," Kano mocked loudly, ensuring every single person in the room could hear every syllable. "If it isn’t our grand tournament champion. Tell me, Brianna, did you put your name on the roster just so an Alpha would finally notice you? Or did you miss getting thrown to the floor so much you decided to make it official?"