002.

~ BRIELLE ~

The door swings open before I can bring myself to knock again. Mrs. Gable, my father’s perpetually flustered secretary, gives me a tight, sympathetic smile before her eyes shift past me.

I know my father is already inside there in his office, probably pacing around and fuming like he wants to burn down the whole fucking world.

Or maybe, he is probably planning how to make my life much worse than it already is.

“He is waiting for you, Brielle,” she murmurs.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gable.” I nod, offering her my practiced smile. The exact one that doesn’t reach my eyes.

Mrs. Gable knows that smile. Of course I am sure she uses that same smile around my father just to endure his bullshit and everything nasty that comes with working with a ruthless man like him.

She understands. And she steps aside, making way for me to enter the main office.

Taking a silent breath, I step inside. The Dean's office is exactly as I left it yesterday. Exactly as it has been for years: the same brown mahogany desk where he always dictated orders to me like he was some kind of Hitler, the framed degrees and commendations lining the walls, all the leather-bound books stocked in neat piles inside those shelves.

And right behind his desk, there is a brown pendulum clock, and a giant window overlooking the sweeping view of the campus grounds.

My father is standing by that window, his back turned to me as if I am just a ghost existing here in his office.

He doesn't even act like I am here. His hands are clasped behind him, holding a tablet. He is a tall man and impeccably dressed as always in his black tailored suit, with his silver hair perfectly styled all backwards without a single strand of hair falling out of place. He is the statue of authority that I have never questioned or challenged for years.

How could I?

“Brielle.”

His voice is calm, soft-spoken, but there is something else in his tone that has goosebumps pricking all over my skin. An icy chill rushes down my spine.

And then, he turns around.

“Care to explain this?” He dumps the tablet he is holding onto the desk. A digital copy of my transcript glares back at me from the bright tablet screen.

Especially that fucking C+.

“It’s just a single C+, Father.” I lift up my eyes to answer him because one painful lesson he taught me many years ago was to never answer him or anyone with my eyes dropping to the ground.

He said it is a sign of disrespect and weakness to avoid anyone's eyes when speaking, or lying to them.

“What did you just say?” His cold-hearted brown eyes are locked into mine.

“You know me. That C+ was just a minor blip. I’ll bring it up by the end of the semester, I promise.”

“A minor blip?” He chuckles darkly and takes a few steps towards me until we are standing face to face just a few inches apart, “Brielle, you are the daughter of the Dean. You are a scholarship student. Your reputation, your spotless reputation, must be maintained. I won't tolerate any form of lackadaisical attitudes from you. This isn’t a ‘blip’. It’s a mistake that should not even exist in the first place. It's a weakness. And weaknesses, as you know, are not tolerated in the Danvers Family.”

I gulp. I am almost tempted to retort back at him by asking who the hell doesn't tolerate weaknesses. However, I am not going to expose more of myself now to avoid him hurting me deeper than he already has.

So, I just answer, “I understand, Father.”

“Do you?” He picks up the tablet and taps it idly, probably scrolling away my ‘mistake’ to avoid dirtying his eyes further with it. “I want to believe that you actually understand because if you did, we won’t be having this useless conversation. Your scholarship, Brielle, is contingent upon maintaining a certain GPA. A scholarship I personally fought for, mind you. One that benefits our family, our legacy.”

I swallow hard again, my throat suddenly dry. His words are always sneaky poisons designed to gradually sink into my bones until I realize them too late. Those poisons are always sure to remind me of my cursed place in his life.

He doesn’t need to shout at me. Those poisons are far more effective, and they do all the job for him.

Our family. Our legacy. Never my future. Never my dreams. My life is a carefully designed plan made by him. Every decision I take must be filtered through the lens of his approval, whether I like it or not.

There is no room for a slip up. No room for messy. No room for me being offended or even being happy genuinely.

I am a vessel, a pawn in a game I never chose to play.

“Like I said, I'll do better next semester.” I clench my fists, my nails painfully digging into my palms. I welcome and absorb the pain.

“Fortunately, the university has a mandatory tutoring program for students whose grades show a significant deviation from their usual performance.” He ignores my response to do better.

I clench my fists harder.

He continues. “The program is a new initiative, one I reluctantly agreed to support, though I have always believed my students should uphold the standards of excellence without such… such remedial interventions.”

He says “remedial” like he is spitting out expired milk.

My stomach squeezes like my guts are about to shrink to death.

A mandatory tutoring program.

This is his solution. Public humiliation disguised as academic support.

“Who is it?” I ask, already picturing some earnest, slightly awkward graduate student that is eager to impress the Dean’s daughter. Someone I can easily manipulate, charm, or simply ignore because I already have a lot of shit going on in my life and I don't need the extra burden.

“Dad?”

“About who that person is, now darling, that is where it gets interesting.” He leans back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Due to certain…. anonymous funding conditions tied to the program, the assignments are randomized and untouchable even by my authority.”

My brow furrows. “Untouchable?”

“Your tutor is Kade Merrick.”

“What?!” I gasp as the name hits me like a physical blow instantly.

Kade Merrick. Saint Aldric’s new resident criminal on parole.

With whiskey eyes, prison tattoos, and a mouth that doesn't know when to stop talking dirty, Kade Merrick is the parole student that no one here in Saint Aldric ever gets close to because the air around him is sticky with nasty rumors including drugs, violence, and theft. Some say he is very intelligent despite his criminal status, but I find that hard to believe.

No one dares ask, and Kade never offers explanations because unlike me who needs to live a spotless life like my next oxygen depends on doing so, Kade Merrick doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks of him.

I don't think I can breathe beside such a person!

“Dad, I-I think there is some kind of mistake somewhere. You can’t be serious. Kade Merrick… he… he is a menace! He is a distraction and shouldn't be the one to tutor me. No one likes him or even talks to the guy. I don't think I can cope. My grades will only get worse!”

“I thought so too and fought against it.” He sighs. “However, like I said, the assignments are randomized, and I can't do anything about your situation. If you had kept your grades up, you wouldn’t be in this mess, so fix it. Your brilliance will be tested and you will overcome this stupid C+ and get back on track. I don't want any more excuses. None at all. You will prove to everyone that even the nastiest person on this campus cannot win against you. You will show them why the golden girl of Saint Aldric is my daughter. I made you who you are today, Brielle. Don't ever fuck up again.”

Somehow, I feel like he is doing this on purpose to torture me. This isn’t just about my grade; it’s a twisted power play. He is testing me and expecting to find more flaws.

“I demand you reverse the assignment. This is ridiculous!”

He pushes off the desk. “I tried. The board’s hands are tied. Anonymous funding, remember? It seems Mr. Merrick has some very powerful, very private benefactors who ensured his entry and placement within the university structure. Even I cannot override this. Your first meeting with him is scheduled for tomorrow, so, you will attend. You will maintain your grades and demonstrate that you are above such… associations. Consider it a lesson in navigating the less desirable aspects of the world. And remember not to disgrace me again with such a flimsy grade. I've taught you better.”

I wish that is true. All he has taught me is pain. All he has ever made me feel is the constant need to impress and live up to ridiculous expectations and validations that at the end of the day, I realize I have nothing that is truly my own fair share of happiness.

Nothing that is my own piece of fulfilment that is solely MINE.

Everything I have done has always been for him. And I am still stuck in that never ending cycle.

“Since we are done here, you can leave.” He says and walks around his desk to settle down on his seat. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Without thinking twice about leaving, I walk out of the office and painfully resist shutting the door with a bang. Mrs. Gable offers another sympathetic glance to me as I pass, but I don't let the sympathy get to me.

Now is not the time for sympathy.

My mind is already doing the maths and contemplating the impossible.

Kade Merrick represents everything my father despises. Everything I have been taught to avoid. He is bad news. He is both a mess and a disaster waiting to explode, but I can't back away.

I can't disobey my father because disobeying him will come at a price that will definitely make me feel more wounded than I am now.

Maybe, just maybe, I can work with this Kade Merrick without losing my fucking mind. I hope so.