Avery May's POV:

Over the following week, campus life gradually returned to normal.

The incident with Diego and Kiana spread like wildfire, becoming the most explosive piece of gossip among the student body.

Most people concluded that Diego was mentally unstable, and Kiana was his equally unhinged accomplice.

I was sitting in the bustling student union building, sipping a matcha latte with my friend Liam.

"Have you heard about Diego Torres?" Liam asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "He's been... making the rounds lately."

I raised an eyebrow. "Where, exactly?"

"Everywhere," Liam said, shaking his head. "He's been crashing venture capital pitches and student startup seminars. Last night, he even tried to sneak into an alumni mixer, parading around calling himself a 'visionary' looking for seed funding."

Liam paused, biting back a laugh.

"Word is, he told one of the investors that he's destined to be bigger than Elon Musk. He said they'd be fools not to hand over fifty million dollars right on the spot, no questions asked, just for the absolute privilege of being associated with him."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Fifty million? He was completely detached from reality. "How'd that go for him?"

"Security escorted him out," Liam grinned. "Multiple times. He kept coming back. He even managed to call tech mogul Mr. Henderson at his private residence, demanding a meeting. Henderson had to file a restraining order."

A wave of amusement washed over me.

He was unravelling. Even with his scholarship revoked and a run-in with the police, he was still spewing his "future billionaire" rhetoric, demanding money in a way that was as pathetic as it was creepy.

I remembered how he used to harass my father in our past life, utterly convinced my dad owed him something.

My father, a man who built his empire on his own merit and shrewd deal-making, had simply hung up on him and blocked his number. Then Diego changed numbers, and after a week, my dad let my security detail handle it.

Without the structure and resources I had previously provided, Diego was completely lost at sea.

Now, faced with the harsh reality of starting from scratch, he was flailing, desperate to replicate a past success without understanding a single thing about the foundation it was built upon.

"I think he's convinced you're secretly sabotaging his career," Liam whispered, adding, "He's telling anyone who will listen that your family is 'conspiring to block his inevitable triumph,' and that you're all 'jealous of his genius.'"

I scoffed. "Jealous? Of what, exactly?" I tapped my expensive but understated smartwatch. "I'm building tangible things, Liam. I don't have time for conspiracy theories."

"Oh, look!" Liam suddenly gasped, nudging me gently with his elbow.

I followed his gaze. Diego and Kiana were standing by a food stall, completely oblivious to my presence.

Diego was gesturing wildly, talking a mile a minute to a very confused-looking vendor.

Kiana stood beside him, her face a mix of deep embarrassment and utter helplessness. She looked thinner, her clothes shabbier than before. She seemed to be trying to pull Diego away, but he was riding a wave of manic energy, completely blind to her discomfort.

"Come on, let's watch," Liam muttered, pulling me behind a large pillar. "This is better than any reality TV."

Meanwhile, Diego was holding a greasy little paper tray containing a lukewarm hot dog.

He stared at it with pure disdain. "This is what you call food?" he shouted, loud enough that several nearby students turned to stare. "This is garbage! My palate demands only the absolute best! From now on, I will only consume organic, ethically sourced cuisine prepared by Michelin-starred chefs!"

With that, he waved the hot dog around in a gesture of grand dismissal.

Kiana tugged at his sleeve. "Diego, please. You haven't eaten all day. It's just a hot dog. Just eat it."

He shoved her hand away. "Nonsense, Kiana! I refuse to lower myself to such mediocrity! My body is a temple, a vessel for future innovation! It deserves better!" He threw the hot dog onto the ground. "This establishment is beneath me! It's a disgrace that you sell this inedible slop!"

The food vendor, a burly man, stepped up to the counter, his face flushing red. "Hey, buddy! You got a problem with my food? Pay up and get out! Don't you throw my merchandise on the ground!"

Diego flared with indignation. "Do you have any idea who I am? I am Diego Torres! Soon, I will own a multi-billion dollar corporation! I'll buy this entire university—including your pathetic little stall—and turn it into a five-star dining experience!" He pointed a finger at the vendor. "You will pay for this insult!"

Kiana tried to drag him away again, whispering frantically, "Diego, stop! The police! Remember the police!"

Beside me, Liam snorted, fighting back a fit of laughter. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

Diego whipped his head around, his eyes sweeping the crowd to find the source of the disrespect. That was when his gaze landed on me. His eyes narrowed, blazing with infernal fury.

"Avery!" he roared. Abandoning the bewildered vendor, he began shoving his way through the scattering students, making a beeline straight for me.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I stood up, grabbing my bag to blend into the crowd, but his eyes were locked on me. He was surprisingly fast.

"You can't run away, Avery!" he yelled, grabbing my arm. "You think you can hide? You think you can pretend I don't exist? I know exactly what you're doing! You're trying to sabotage my plans, aren't you? You're jealous! You want me to come crawling back to you!"

I blinked at him. "Diego," I said evenly, "you are living in a fantasy. I have absolutely zero interest in you, your 'empire,' or whatever imaginary plans you've cooked up in your head."

A profound sense of exhaustion washed over me. He was truly pathetic.

He shook his head violently. "No! You're lying! You still love me! You just won't admit it! You want me, you want my genius, and you want to be the woman standing beside me when I reach the top!"

"But I won't let you win! Kiana is my true partner! My muse! She's my one and only love!"

He waved frantically at Kiana, who was standing there looking totally bewildered and terrified by the scene.

"You just want to tear us apart! But it won't work! We're stronger than you!" With that, he leaned in closer. "Stay away from us, Avery. Do you hear me? Or you'll regret it. I'll make you regret it."

He was genuinely sick.

"Diego," I hissed quietly. "You didn't pay for that hot dog. You threw it on the ground and walked away." I pointed to the squashed bun on the floor. "The vendor is staring right at you, and so is half the student union. They're all wondering how a 'future billionaire' could possibly dine-and-dash over a two-dollar hot dog."

His gaze flicked first to the hot dog, then over to the vendor, who was indeed glaring daggers at him.

Then, he noticed a half-empty bag of chips peeking out of Kiana's purse. He had been secretly snacking on them himself, yet earlier he vehemently swore off "junk food," too proud to admit he was starving.

My suspicions were confirmed. He was starving to death, but his ego wouldn't let him confess it.

His face burned bright red. Raw, unadulterated humiliation replaced his prior fury. "I... I just... I'm not hungry!" he stammered, trying to snatch the bag of chips from Kiana's purse.

"Right," I drawled. "I literally just saw you sneaking those chips. Starving, but too proud to admit it. Truly an inspiring visionary."

His fragile, bruised ego shattered completely. He slammed his fist heavily against the wall beside him with a dull thud. "You witch! You did this! You're trying to ruin me!"

I remained perfectly calm, completely unfazed by his outburst. "Punching a wall isn't going to solve your problems, Diego. It's just going to add a property damage charge to your ever-growing list of legal troubles."

He stumbled backward, gasping for air, his eyes swirling with a mix of terror and hatred. "You think this is over? This is just the beginning, Avery! I will rise! And when I do, you'll regret everything!"

I knew him inside and out, so I knew exactly what words would cut him the deepest.

"You've said that before, and nothing changed." I replied, my tone flat and even. "Diego, you were never a genius."

Avery May's POV:

The annual university Tech Innovation Expo was the highlight of the academic year. Students showcased their wildest ideas, hoping to catch the eye of a Silicon Valley giant.

In my past life, this was where Diego had truly shined.

Naturally, he viewed today as the crucial turning point for his comeback.

He had been highly charismatic, incredibly eloquent, and had pitched a flashy but slightly shallow social networking concept that perfectly captured the zeitgeist.

"That young man, Torres," my father remarked to the dean, a seemingly offhand comment that carried immense weight. "He's talented. What's his background?"

Eager to please, the dean quickly summarized Diego's story: scholarship student, humble origins, raw talent.

"We could offer him five hundred thousand in seed capital," my father suggested. "Additionally, we'd provide mentorship, networking resources, and fast-track follow-up funding if he delivers."

For a student project, this was an extraordinarily generous proposition, fully reflecting my father's confidence in his potential. The dean broke into a wide smile. It was a win-win for both the school and Diego.

Diego overheard the exchange and sauntered over, a sneer playing on his lips. He reached out to shake my father's hand, adopting an air of overly familiar confidence.

"Did you say five hundred thousand?" His tone made it sound as though such a sum couldn't possibly pique his interest. "That's... a start, I suppose. But for someone with my talent and vision, it's basically a drop in the bucket, don't you think?"

My father, usually a stickler for protocol, raised an eyebrow, a flash of surprise crossing his face. "Young man, for an unproven concept, that is no small amount of money."

Diego chuckled. He waved his hand dismissively. "Mr. May, your industry is stuck in the past. You're thinking in millions, but I'm thinking in billions. Your so-called 'seed capital' doesn't even begin to match the scope of my ambitions."

He paused, surveying the bustling hall with an air of absolute superiority. "I'll reluctantly accept. But understand this: I'm doing you a favor. In a few years, five hundred thousand will be nothing but a rounding error on my balance sheet."

My father's smile froze.

He was used to dealing with audacious founders, but this level of unbridled arrogance was exceptionally rare.

"Furthermore," Diego continued, "I require more. Much more. To truly disrupt the market and obliterate the competition, I need at least five million upfront. And a guaranteed twenty million follow-on within the first year. Additionally, I expect a personal stipend of twenty thousand a month so I can be free of mundane worries. My genius cannot be tethered by financial constraints."

He spoke as if these demands were perfectly reasonable, as if he were granting my father some profound privilege.

"I'm not like other students, Mr. May. I'm a prodigy. I am destined for greatness." He gestured grandly. "I will build an empire, an unprecedented tech behemoth that will make your current portfolio look like child's play."

He then looked at my father, a bizarre gleam shining in his eyes.

"Mr. May, this is your only window. Invest in me wholeheartedly, or be left in the dust when I reshape the world. I'll give you twenty-four hours to reconsider. If you can't meet my terms, I'll take my vision elsewhere." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, a smug smile plastered on his face.

He genuinely fantasized that my father would chase after him, begging him to stay. He assumed his "genius" was so blindingly obvious, so irrefutable, that anyone would readily bow to his every whim.

My father's usually calm and composed face flushed with anger.

The dean, utterly appalled, scrambled to salvage the situation. "Mr. May, please forgive him! I apologize for his behavior! He's just young and a bit... overzealous. He didn't mean any disrespect."

My father shook his head, his eyes cold and decisive. "But I don't invest in blinding arrogance. I invest in talent, humility, and a clear understanding of value. Mr. Torres possesses absolutely none of these traits."

"The offer is rescinded. Completely off the table. We will not be investing in Mr. Torres's venture."

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Diego stopped in his tracks. He turned around, his face etched with confusion.

"What? What did you say?" he demanded, marching back over. He had considered himself so incredibly valuable that no one would ever dare reject him.

My father ignored him, speaking directly to the dean. "We are looking for true innovators, those who respect the process and the support they are given."

Only then did he glance at Diego, his tone calm yet icy. "Mr. Torres, you believe you are destined for greatness? Fine. But greatness is never born from sheer arrogance." With that, my father turned and walked away, leaving Diego standing there entirely alone, paralyzed with shock.

Still struggling to process the reality of the situation, Diego blurted out, "No! You don't understand! I need a real investor! Someone who truly recognizes my worth! Someone whose wealth dwarfs even your family's! Someone who will bow to my genius and hand me a blank check!"

He looked around frantically, scanning the room for his next target, another potential patron.

"I will handpick my investors! Only the richest, the most powerful, the ones who grovel at my feet deserve my blessing! No one else is worthy!"

Avery May's POV:

I watched silently as Diego, still ranting and raving, was ultimately escorted out by security. His earlier bravado was now laced with a thread of genuine panic. Kiana, who had been hiding in the background, scurried after him, her face tight with shame and fear.

But the true victims were the expo organizers. They had worked tirelessly to attract investors, and Diego's public tantrum had cast an ugly shadow over the entire event.

Among them was a young woman named Maya, a brilliant computer science major from a low-income background.

She stood beside a neglected booth, tears welling in her eyes. Her project—an AI educational tool for children—had been entirely overlooked in the wake of the commotion. Her fragile, sincere dream seemed to have shattered right then and there.

I walked over to her, a wave of sympathy washing over me. "Are you alright?" I asked softly, my voice gentle.

Maya looked up, her eyes red rimmed. "No, not really," she choked out, "I've poured my heart and soul into this. I really needed that funding. My family... they're all counting on me."

"Now, all anyone is going to remember is Diego's meltdown. Nobody is paying attention to the actual innovation."

I nodded, completely understanding her frustration. "I've reviewed your project," I said, my gaze sweeping over her meticulously written code. "It's genuinely brilliant, Maya. My family's foundation is always on the lookout for promising startups that align with our values."

Maya's eyes widened, a flicker of hope cutting through her tears. "Your family's foundation? The May Foundation?" Her voice dropped to a disbelieving whisper. "Are you saying... you'd consider backing my project?"

"Consider it done," I confirmed with firm certainty, "assuming, of course, that our due diligence verifies everything you've presented. But from what I can see right now, you are exactly the kind of innovator we want to champion." I offered her a warm, encouraging smile. "How much capital do you need to get this off the ground and secure your future?"

Maya hesitated, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I... I don't know. Maybe enough to hire a small team and rent a modest office space. Fifty thousand dollars would be absolutely life-changing." She looked up, the rekindled hope in her eyes mingled with a trace of anxiety. "I don't want to be greedy."

"Maya," I said, "fifty thousand is a fine start, but to make a real impact, you're going to need more runway. Let's talk about five hundred thousand."

Her jaw dropped. "Five hundred thousand?"

She gasped, fresh tears spilling over her lashes—but this time, they were tears of pure joy and disbelief. She shook her head in sheer shock. "I... I can't even begin to express my gratitude, Ms. May. I will give this everything I have. I promise you, I'll make this project a massive success. I will make you proud."

That evening, after the tech expo wrapped up, our class decided to grab dinner at a popular local diner.

Just then, the bell above the door chimed, and Diego and Kiana walked in.

Looking somewhat disheveled, Diego marched straight over to our table. Without a word of greeting, he pulled up two chairs and casually plopped himself down at the head of the table. Kiana looked wildly uncomfortable as she squeezed in beside him.

"Ah, finally, some real food!" Diego announced, scanning the menu with a condescending sneer. "Though I seriously doubt this place can satisfy my refined palate." He sniffed the air as if catching a foul stench. "The ambiance here is... quaint. But certainly beneath my future status."

Everyone remembered his earlier meltdown. His presence was a glaring nuisance.

He had even tried to disrupt the afternoon robotics competition, claiming his "transcendent intellect was distracting the other competitors."

Later, he had faked an injury, forcing Kiana to forfeit a mini coding challenge. She missed out on a small cash prize, all so he could keep the spotlight firmly fixed on himself.

Right then, fork in hand, he reached over and plunged it into a shared bowl of chili oil noodles, stirring aggressively. Then, he grabbed a handful of salad with his bare fingers and tossed it into the noodles. "This isn't mixed right at all!" he complained. "Who made this garbage?"

Finally, someone spoke up, their tone heavy with exasperation. "Diego, this is a class dinner. We're here to celebrate our projects. We picked this place because it's affordable and the food is good. It's not a Michelin-starred restaurant, but it's what we can afford."

Diego sneered. "Affordable? Good food? Your tastes are as narrow as your ambitions. Soon, I'll be dining at restaurants where the silverware is solid gold and the chefs have Michelin stars."

Emboldened by his rant, Kiana let out a soft laugh and nodded in agreement. "He's right, Ben. You guys don't understand true luxury."

I had had enough.

What little remained of my patience completely evaporated. I quietly pushed my plate away.

"Diego," my voice cut sharply through the chatter. "This is not your private dining room. We're eating family style, and the bill is being split evenly among everyone sitting here. So, since you've decided to crash, I expect you to pay your share."

Diego froze. "My share?" He scoffed, scrambling to recover his composure. "Do you know who I am? I wouldn't be caught dead eating this peasant food."

"Oh, I know exactly who you are," I replied with a cold smile. "You're the student whose scholarship was just revoked, who owes me eighty thousand dollars. And based on that little hot dog incident earlier today, I'm guessing you don't have a single dime to your name."

He stared at me, his face turning beet red. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He had nothing to say. He was entirely broke. Slowly, he stood up, dragging Kiana up with him. "Fine! We'll pay! Just you wait! I'll buy this whole damn diner!"

He dragged Kiana toward the cash register.

As they walked away, I noticed something. The gaudy necklace Kiana always wore was missing. She must have pawned it or sold it to fund his earlier escapades, or perhaps just to scrounge up cash for this very dinner.

Realizing this, a dark thrill of satisfaction washed over me. They were truly backed into a corner.

Kiana shot me a venomous glare over her shoulder, her eyes burning with naked hatred. She blamed me entirely for their predicament.

Suddenly, the diner's front doors banged open. Three burly men in poorly fitted suits stormed inside, their faces set in grim, angry lines.

They scanned the room, their eyes locking instantly onto Kiana, who had just returned to the table and gone deathly pale.

"There she is!" one of them barked.