The University of Lamburgh felt like a world of its own, full of students from every corner of life, yet split by invisible lines of power. I’d seen enough of the world to understand these dynamics immediately—the rich kids, the middle class trying to blend in, the outliers like me, and the nerds who kept their heads down and their books close. It was clear as day. The power here didn’t lie with the staff or the rules of the university; it was with the names on the donation checks, and the unspoken control of a few.

  The three kings of Lamburgh were as prominent as they were insufferable: Liam Carrington, the charming but cold heir to the Carrington fortune; Jasper Blackwood, tall, dark, and brooding, the son of a tech mogul; and Sebastian Cross, a handsome and arrogant frat boy type who believed he could have anything or anyone, thanks to his family’s wealth. The three of them roamed the campus like it was their kingdom, and everyone—students and staff alike—bowed to them, either out of fear or admiration.

  Liam was always seen with a cold smirk, a master of using his looks and wit to manipulate those around him. Jasper carried himself with a quiet intensity, watching everyone with a calculating gaze that made it clear he was always two steps ahead. Sebastian, on the other hand, was loud, obnoxious, and had a presence that demanded attention. His ego seemed limitless, and he reveled in it.

  And then there was Bella Walker, the social queen who was always a step behind them. She fawned over them, practically worshipped the ground they walked on. Bella was the kind of girl who could charm the room with a glance, but she knew exactly where her power lay—her beauty, her connections, and her ability to play the game better than anyone else.

  I wasn’t surprised when I saw her following them from a distance, practically hanging on their every word, her laughter ringing out like she was trying to make sure they noticed her. She had a way of leaning in just a little too close, making them the center of her universe. I could already tell she’d be a fixture in their world, but I wasn’t sure if I’d fit into this circus of privilege.

  Walking through the campus, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of detachment. I wasn’t one of them, and I certainly didn’t want to be. Still, the dynamics were impossible to ignore. Liam, Jasper, and Sebastian ruled this place, and Bella was their queen bee.

  But I wasn’t here to play their game. I had my own plans. This place might be full of worshippers, but I wasn’t going to bow down.

  I’d only had one virtual call with Ms. Emily before today, so walking into her office felt like stepping into a different world. The space was sterile, but warm enough to make you feel like you were in a place where your future mattered. And, by the looks of it, Ms. Emily took that very seriously.

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  She was seated behind a neat desk, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she looked up at me over the rim. She smiled, but it was a practiced kind of smile, the one that told me she had seen far too many students trying to push the limits of their roles here.

  “Ms. Sinclair, I trust the campus is treating you well so far?” she asked, her tone polite but with an edge of concern I could already feel. The concern that never really left her when it came to me.

  “It’s fine,” I replied flatly, slipping into the chair across from her. “It’s a lot, but I can manage.”

  She nodded, as though waiting for me to explain more. But I didn’t have anything else to add. I wasn’t here for small talk. I was here because I had to be.

  “Well, I’ve reviewed your file, and I see you’ve got a lot on your plate. A bright future ahead if you can manage to stay focused,” she said, looking at me over her glasses. “But I need to remind you that Lamburgh isn’t just any university. It’s one of the most prestigious in the country. The atmosphere can be... distracting.”

  Her words felt more like a warning than advice, and I didn’t like the way she emphasized certain words—especially “distraction.”

  I leaned back, trying not to let my frustration show. “I’m here for the education. I don’t care about the rest.”

  She tilted her head, studying me for a moment. “Is that so? You’re not the first to come here thinking that. But let me tell you something, Ms. Sinclair, you’ll find yourself caught up in things you didn’t expect. This isn’t just about the books. It’s about who you know, and where you fit. You’ll need to play the game, whether you want to or not.”

  I didn’t respond. She was right, in a way, but that wasn’t my game. I had other plans—plans I wasn’t ready to share.

  Ms. Emily’s gaze softened slightly, and she gave a knowing smile. “But you’re here to do more than just play, aren’t you?” Her voice lowered, as if she were letting me in on a secret.

  I didn’t say anything. There was no need to. She didn’t know the half of it.

  With a small sigh, she picked up a piece of paper from her desk, sliding it toward me. “Your schedule’s here. You’ve got a lot of work ahead, but you’re capable. I trust you’ll make the most of this opportunity.”

  I glanced down at the paper, but my mind was elsewhere. Her words—“play the game”—kept echoing in my head. She had no idea what game I was playing.

  I took the paper and stuffed it in my bag. “Thank you,” I said, rising from my seat.

  Ms. Emily didn’t move as I headed for the door. She gave me one last look, her expression shifting to something more maternal, almost as if she could sense the weight I was carrying. “Remember, Ms. Sinclair, Lamburgh can be a place of great opportunity... if you don’t lose yourself in the chaos.”

  “Room 3B,” I muttered, walking out of her office without looking back.

  As the door clicked shut behind me, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Opportunities. Chaos. Games. All words that seemed to follow me everywhere.

  But none of that mattered right now. I had a goal, and nothing, not even the politics of this place, was going to stop me from getting what I needed. I could ignore the rich kids, their games, their power trips. They weren’t my problem. The unfinished job I had to complete—that was the only thing I needed to focus on.

  Still, the weight of it lingered in the back of my mind. The job. The deal I’d made. And the fact that I had to finish it before I could even think about what came next.

  One step at a time.