Not loud. Not chaotic.
Wrong.
Sagurakaoga High had always carried an atmosphere of polished superiority — marble floors, tailored uniforms, the quiet arrogance of inherited power.
But today, whispers moved faster than footsteps.
Students weren’t looking at Su.
They were looking at Sid.
Phones tilted discreetly.
Messages flying.
Screens lighting up.
Sid noticed it immediately.
He walked through the hallway without changing pace.
But his eyes tracked reflections in the glass panels.
Something had been released.
He just didn’t know what yet.
Su met him near the staircase, breath slightly uneven.
“Have you checked your phone?”
“No.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she held up her screen.
A headline from an anonymous campus forum:
Scholarship Fraud? Hidden Connections Between Bakery Family and Offshore Accounts
Below it—
Photos of his family bakery.
Blurry screenshots of financial records.
Edited.
Twisted.
Made to look like money laundering.
Sid stared at it calmly.
Fake documents layered over real ones.
Selective cropping.
Subtle but effective.
Phase Two.
Su looked at him desperately.
“This isn’t true, right?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Not because he was guilty.
But because answering wrong would make things worse.
“It’s manipulated,” he said finally.
She searched his face.
“You didn’t do anything illegal?”
Her voice wasn’t accusing.
It was scared.
“No.”
That part was true.
The offshore accounts he’d found weren’t his.
They were Lee’s.
But someone had flipped the narrative.
Su swallowed.
“My father will see this.”
“I know.”
Her expression shifted slightly.
Fear turning into something else.
“They’re trying to discredit you.”
“Yes.”
“For being close to me.”
“Yes.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She clenched her jaw.
“That’s disgusting.”
Sid watched her carefully.
This wasn’t part of the script.
She was angry.
For him.
And that stirred something unfamiliar in his chest.
By noon, it escalated.
A formal notice arrived.
Sid was summoned to the administrative board.
When he entered the room, five officials sat behind a long desk.
Polite faces.
Cold eyes.
The principal folded his hands.
“Sid, serious allegations have surfaced regarding financial misconduct tied to your family.”
“My family owns a bakery,” Sid replied calmly.
“Yes,” another board member said. “Which has allegedly been used as a front.”
They slid printed screenshots toward him.
Carefully crafted lies.
“You have twenty-four hours to provide evidence disproving these claims,” the principal said.
“If we find grounds for violation of scholarship policy… you will be expelled.”
Simple.
Clean.
Legal.
Sid nodded once.
“I understand.”
As he stood to leave, one board member added quietly—
“Powerful families do not appreciate being embarrassed.”
Sid met his gaze.
“Neither do I.”
That evening, Sid sat alone in his dorm.
Laptop open.
Multiple screens.
Data streams flowing.
He didn’t panic.
He dissected.
The post originated from a masked IP routed through three proxy layers.
Amateur mistake.
Too clean.
Too rehearsed.
It wasn’t the fiancé directly.
It was someone working under him.
He traced deeper.
A secondary server.
School network access.
Internal credentials.
Interesting.
They were using Sagurakaoga’s own infrastructure to push the smear campaign.
That meant leverage.
But exposing it would mean exposing how he accessed the system too.
A double-edged blade.
His phone buzzed.
Su.
He stared at the name for a second longer than necessary.
Then answered.
“Are you okay?” she asked immediately.
“Yes.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“I’ve handled worse.”
A pause.
“You shouldn’t have to handle this alone.”
Her voice was softer tonight.
Not princess-soft.
Human-soft.
“I’m not alone,” he said.
Another pause.
“Sid…”
He waited.
“If this gets worse… if my father forces you out…”
She trailed off.
He could hear her breathing.
“If that happens,” he said evenly, “it won’t be because I lost.”
Silence.
She understood what that meant.
He wasn’t planning to lose.
“Don’t do anything reckless,” she whispered.
His eyes drifted to the screen again.
Encrypted folders.
Compromising evidence.
“I won’t,” he said.
And for once—
That wasn’t entirely a lie.
The following day, things turned uglier.
Three senior students cornered him near the gym.
Not the usual bullies.
These were calculated.
One of them smirked.
“Didn’t know scholarship kids ran international scams.”
Sid kept walking.
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
Hard.
“You think you can climb above your place?”
Sid slowly turned his head.
Measured.
Calm.
“I don’t climb,” he said quietly.
“I build.”
The student swung first.
Predictable.
Sid stepped aside.
Minimal movement.
Redirected the arm.
Used the attacker’s momentum to slam him into the wall.
The other two lunged.
Sid didn’t overcommit.
Precise strikes.
Controlled force.
In less than ten seconds, all three were on the ground.
Groaning.
He didn’t gloat.
Didn’t threaten.
He crouched slightly beside the first one.
“Tell whoever sent you,” he said quietly, “that if this continues, I stop being polite.”
Footsteps echoed.
Sid stood.
Su.
She had seen enough.
Her eyes moved from the students on the floor… to him.
“You said you wouldn’t do anything reckless.”
“I didn’t.”
Her breathing was uneven.
“You could’ve gotten suspended.”
“They attacked first.”
She stepped closer.
“You’re not scared at all, are you?”
He met her gaze.
Fear wasn’t the right word.
But something else was growing.
“I’m not used to backing down.”
She studied him carefully.
Then said something unexpected.
“I don’t want you fighting my battles.”
He froze slightly.
“This isn’t your battle.”
“Yes, it is.”
Her voice was firm now.
“They’re attacking you because of me.”
He didn’t argue.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
She stepped closer.
“Let me talk to my father.”
“No.”
The word came sharper than intended.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“Why not?”
Because if Mr. Light intervened, the game would shift into open warfare.
Because if her father defended him, it would make Su more politically trapped.
Because he didn’t want her standing between him and the storm.
But he didn’t say any of that.
“It won’t help,” he said instead.
“You don’t know that.”
He looked at her.
Really looked.
And for a split second—
The strategist in him faltered.
Because she wasn’t a pawn.
She was trying to protect him.
And that complicated everything.
That night, Mr. Lee’s son reviewed updates.
“The narrative is spreading,” his assistant said.
“Good.”
“The school board is preparing suspension documentation.”
“And Sid?”
“He’s… adapting.”
The fiancé’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“In what way?”
“He hasn’t retaliated publicly. He’s gathering something.”
A pause.
“Accelerate.”
“Sir?”
“Leak the next layer.”
The assistant hesitated.
“That will draw media attention.”
“Exactly.”
His expression remained composed.
“If he wants to play, we escalate the board.”
At 9:17 p.m., Sid’s laptop chimed.
A new notification.
National news outlet.
His family bakery featured in an investigative teaser headline.
The smear campaign had left campus.
This wasn’t a school issue anymore.
This was public.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A calm voice spoke.
“Mr. Sid. This is Mr. Lee.”
Silence stretched between them.
“I believe our children have complicated matters unnecessarily,” Mr. Lee continued smoothly.
“You have one opportunity to walk away.”
“And if I don’t?” Sid asked evenly.
A soft chuckle.
“Then your family’s bakery will not survive the month.”
The line went dead.
Sid sat still for a long moment.
The screen reflected in his eyes.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Something colder.
He reached for his keyboard.
Opened a secure folder.
One he had not intended to use yet.
Inside it—
Documents that could collapse a multinational empire.
His cursor hovered.
And for the first time since this began—
His hand hesitated.
Not because of risk.
But because using it would burn everything down.
Including her world.
Outside his door—
A soft knock.
Su’s voice.
“Sid… are you awake?”
He closed the laptop.
And stood.
The war had officially begun.
And this time—
There would be no clean victories.