The sun was only just brushing its light across the rooftops when Chance pulled his Bentley Escapade into the winding, ivy-lined driveway of the Warrens’ private estate. The silence of the early morning amplified the soft purr of the engine, its elegance clashing with the calm suburban setting. He was dressed in black—a fine, tailored ensemble that matched the car’s polished body—and his face bore the same unbothered calm it had the night before at Carlton Hotel.He stepped out and rang the bell.When the butler opened the door, Chance didn’t wait for an invitation. “I’m here to see Mr. and Mrs. Warren,” he said flatly.A few moments later, Mr. Warren and his wife appeared in the doorway. Their faces shifted from mild curiosity to outright disbelief. The man from the party. The boy who was mocked by Rickon and everyone. The same one who handed Chloe a Louis Vuitton Black Widow and walked away with anger after being publicly shamed.And now he was here, standing like he belonged in the

Courtney Wiley wasn’t used to losing and even after she had temporarily shifted the narrative and made Rickon the scapegoat for the humiliation she had suffered, she wasn’t ready to give up—not yet.But amidst all of that, what scared her the most was the uncertainty of how Chance had access to drive such an exotic car.A Bentley Escapade wasn’t a car someone rented just for attention.So when word got out that he’d driven off-campus to the Roosevelt Lane café, Courtney didn’t hesitate. She applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, picked out a neutral-toned designer top — not too flashy — and left her dorm with deliberate grace.She had to know if Chance Franklin had really risen above them all before knowing what measures to take to strike back at him.She had, first of all, put a call through to Vinita to ask if she might have heard any news about Chance’s life changing since the event at Carlton Hotel last night that might have made him have access to the Brentley Escapade, but Vinita had

Courtney stood in front of her dorm room mirror, adjusting the strap of her new Dior Saddle 2.0 handbag (Limited Edition). She had just gotten it as a gift from her elder sister, who was taking up a master’s degree in Paris.The worth of the bag, according to what she had Googled, was around $35,000 and she just couldn’t wait to show off before her mates and to make them see for themselves that she was still Courtney Wiley, the campus beauty and queen that she had always been.But just as she was there thinking of how she’d make her grand entrance, her phone buzzed again—more notifications, more reposts of the video from Roosevelt Lane Café.The captions stung more than the comments. Her image—knees half bent, her lips pursed in visible desperation—was now plastered across Elite Society University’s most viral pages. Even the meme accounts had joined in. Her name had become a running joke.She had thought that the drama would have died down by now, but how wrong was she? Nothing ever

Elite Society University, apart from being the university for the elite, was also known for its rich and engaging programs, concerts, and seminars that were all geared towards molding students into men and women who could stand with their shoulders high, and this year was the Annual End-of-Year Arts Festival hosted by the university’s prestigious Arts Society.Unlike most student events, this wasn’t just another talent night. It was a national spectacle, and this year’s lineup promised to make it unforgettable.Top artists and cultural icons from around the country were flying in. The name that had everyone holding their breath was Brenda Holmes—the country’s most celebrated soprano vocalist, known for a voice so transcendent it was said angels would descend in tears if they heard her sing live. Her 7-minute rendition of “Ave Lux” once silenced a 10,000-seat auditorium mid-breath.Brenda Holmes’ talent had taken her so far and wide that she was now worth over $500 million, making her

The silence that followed the reading of the VVIP invitation was almost too thick to breathe through.Diane Holmes slowly lowered the envelope, her earlier arrogance evaporating like mist before a roaring sun. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She turned to look at Chance—really look at him now—her posture stiffening under the weight of embarrassment.Brenda’s expression shifted too. Gone was the professional detachment of a world-class soprano preparing for her show. What remained was a woman with keen intuition, now piecing something together she hadn’t initially seen.Chance gave them both a small, almost polite smile. “Now… if you’ll excuse me.”He turned, taking a step forward.Courtney’s face was nothing short of embarrassment. She looked like someone who had accidentally opened a cursed scroll. Her voice faltered as she tried to salvage the moment. “That... that must be some kind of clerical error.”Vinita stared at the floor and Roy scratched his head, trying to look any