The next morning, Nina came downstairs to find Maria directing two movers as they carried a set of expensive-looking luggage toward the front door.

"Are we having guests?" Nina asked, her curiosity piqued.

Maria turned, her expression one of polite deference. "Not guests, Miss Nina. It's for the Young Master. Mr. Julian is coming home."

Nina froze, her hand hovering over the banister. The name hit her like a physical blow.

Julian Hancock IV.

The true heir to the Hancock empire. The man the book described as a ruthless, cold-blooded predator. In the original story, he was the one who personally orchestrated the original Nina's downfall, the final executioner who sent her to her doom.

Her heart began to beat faster, a frantic, uncontrolled rhythm. It was a strange mix of pure terror and a dark, thrilling excitement.

She had always considered Ryan the primary target because he was simple, a blunt instrument. Julian... Julian was the final boss. The one who offered the highest probability of success, but also the greatest risk.

A strange, unbidden thought surfaced. In the original novel, Julian had never directly laid a hand on her—he always acted through proxies, through lawyers, through others. As if something invisible had stayed his hand. She couldn't explain the pattern, but it prickled at the edge of her awareness: an anomaly she couldn't yet name.

"Mr. Julian has concluded his business in Europe," Maria continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside Nina. "He is expected to arrive this weekend."

Nina managed a small, tight nod, her face a mask of calm. "I see."

But inside, her mind was racing. This changed everything. This put a clock on her plans.

She had to be done with Ryan before Julian got back. If she failed, she would be facing a far more intelligent, far more dangerous opponent. The game would change, and the rules would be his.

The car ride to school was a study in arctic silence. The driver, Jim, kept his eyes on the road, pretending not to notice the glacial tension in the back seat. Ryan sat pressed against the opposite door, headphones on, staring out the window as if the sight of her was physically painful.

Nina glanced at his profile. The sunlight caught in his blond hair, making him look like some kind of harmless golden retriever.

She sighed internally. He wasn't enough. He wasn't vicious enough.

When they arrived at Northwood Preparatory Academy, Ryan was out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop. He strode toward the main building, his long legs eating up the pavement, desperate to put distance between them.

Nina followed at a more leisurely pace, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

She saw them as soon as she entered the main hall. Ashleigh and her court of sycophants, holding court by the lockers.

Ashleigh's smile vanished the moment she saw Nina. Her perfectly made-up face hardened, her eyes narrowing with a look of open hostility. Her friends started whispering, their gazes darting toward Nina like little birds spotting a snake.

Nina didn't slow down. She walked straight toward them, her path set to intersect with their little circle. She kept her eyes fixed forward, as if they weren't even there.

As she passed, she let her shoulder connect squarely with Ashleigh's.

It wasn't a hard bump, but it was deliberate. Ashleigh stumbled back with a theatrical gasp, her friends immediately swarming around her.

"Watch where you're going!" one of the girls snapped.

Nina stopped. She turned around slowly, her expression utterly blank. Her eyes were so calm, so devoid of emotion, that it seemed to unnerve them. The chattering stopped.

Nina's gaze flickered past them, down the hall. Ryan was there, talking to a couple of his teammates. He had noticed the commotion. He was watching.

Perfect.

Nina's eyes returned to Ashleigh. She let her voice carry, just loud enough for the people nearby to hear clearly.

"You should learn to control your dog," Nina said, her voice dripping with contempt. "He shouldn't be sending messages for you."

A collective intake of breath rippled through the onlookers.

Ashleigh's face flushed a deep, blotchy red. She was so furious she was momentarily speechless.

Down the hall, Ryan's face changed. The casual amusement vanished, replaced by a dark scowl. He pushed past his teammates, his shoulders set, and started walking toward them.

His steps were heavy. Purposeful. Angry.

The show was about to begin.