Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
LEO
They say power doesn’t shift overnight.
They’re wrong.
It shifts in under seven hours, with the right girl, the right kiss, and the wrong kind of fire behind her eyes.
By morning, Royal Oaks Prep was in full meltdown mode. Every hallway was a runway. Every glance, a photo op. And every whisper?
About her.
Jade.
Jade-freaking-Bryan.
And if it’s not? I don’t care. Hell, I think I like it more. Mystery has never looked this good in a plaid skirt.
We pulled up to school late on purpose. No one arrives at the top of the social pyramid on time. That’s how you keep people waiting, keep the suspense building.
And when Jade stepped out of my car?
Phones exploded.
Clicks, flashes, TikToks-in-progress.
She had her hair pulled back in this high pony that screamed I-didn’t-try-too-hard, but still looked like something from a luxury campaign.
Her skirt hit just above the knee—just enough to hint without showing—and her blouse was crisp, white, and buttoned like she had no clue how dangerous she looked.
Tristan whistled low beside me. “Our girl really leaned into the role.”
X muttered, “We’re not gonna survive this.”
Jade just rolled her eyes and started walking.
So we did what any good royal entourage does—we flanked her. Tristan on her right. X on her left. Me one step behind, like a king guarding his crown jewel.
Shani trailed behind, head high and eyes gleaming, already riding the wave of her upgraded social status. A week ago, no one even knew her name. Now? She was practically court-appointed nobility.
People moved out of Jade’s way in the halls. Not out of fear—yet—but out of fascination. They didn’t know what to make of her. She wasn’t rich. Wasn’t bred for this. She didn’t chase clout or post thirst traps or play the game.
She just walked like the floor belonged to her, even though I knew damn well she was shaking under it all.
That only made me want her more.
We got her to her first class. I sat through mine texting Tristan about defensive drills we’d run at practice, but my head wasn’t in it.
My head?
Was back in the quad, where I planned our lunch appearance like it was a royal decree.
When fifth period hit, we reclaimed the center fountain—our usual perch. Except this time, it wasn’t me that people watched.
It was us.
Jade perched on the edge of the fountain with one leg crossed, hair catching the sunlight, and this little smirk on her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing.
I slid in beside her, draped an arm across her shoulders, and bent to murmur something like, “You ready for the chaos?”
She stiffened slightly. Just enough for me to notice.
“Leo,” she said under her breath, “I’m not cool with PDA.”
I blinked. “You mean in general or—”
She looked at me, serious as hell. “In general. Just… don’t make me part of your show.”
Oof.
That one hit harder than it should’ve.
Still, I gave a slight nod and moved my arm. Didn’t pout. Didn’t protest.
I just said, “Noted.”
And weirdly? That felt better than any kiss.
No one’s ever told me no before.
No one’s ever meant it.
She didn’t need to play along to make me like her.
She already had me twisted.
Tristan raised a brow at us over the table. “No arm? No kiss? You two fighting already?”
“She doesn’t do PDA,” I said, taking a long sip of my iced coffee, even though I hated how smug he looked.
Tristan leaned back, chuckling. “You’re so whipped.”
I didn’t even argue.
Because for the first time in a long time—I felt something.
And it was her.
Jade.
My girl.
Jade said no PDA.
I heard her.
But my hand found hers anyway.
It wasn’t about the crowd or the cameras. I didn’t do it for show. I did it because I needed to. I needed the anchor. The weight. The proof that she was real and here and mine.
She stiffened for half a heartbeat.
Then let it happen.
And just like that, everything inside me got quieter.
No one made a comment. Not one smirk, not one jeer from the peanut gallery. When Leo Holt holds hands with a girl—especially a girl like Jade—you don’t whisper. You don’t laugh. You watch.
And everyone was watching.
Until Garrett opened his mouth.
Day two of dating Jade and the rugby meathead couldn’t help himself. Same guy I clocked at the bonfire when he got too lippy. You’d think he’d learn, but no—entitlement makes you stupid.
We were walking toward the quad again, Jade tucked at my side, Tristan a few paces back talking with X, when I heard it:
“Careful, Holt. I think your little scholarship girl’s contagious. Might wanna Purell after.”
That’s all it took.
I dropped Jade’s hand.
Turned.
And threw the punch.
Garrett didn’t even see it coming. Fist to jaw. A clean hit. He hit the grass hard, his head bouncing once on the perfectly trimmed lawn.
Gasps erupted. Phones clicked.
Blood pooled in his mouth as he groaned, and I stood over him, jaw clenched, chest heaving like I’d just run a game-winning drive.
Tristan caught up and muttered under his breath, “Dude, again? You’ve got a file, you know.”
“Say one more word about her and I’ll make it worse,” I growled, low and lethal.
Security came running, dragging me away. Jade’s eyes were wide—equal parts shocked and furious—but she didn’t follow.
Smart girl.
The dean called my parents. A whole scene. They threatened suspension until I fed them a cover story that Garrett had been talking crap about Tristan’s situation.
Model baby mama. Party rumors. Press sniffing around.
My parents bought it. Barely.
My dad stared at me across his office desk, voice flat and precise. “This is the last mess I clean up for you, Leo. I mean it.”
I didn’t respond.
“I’ve worked too hard for you to get into Notre Dame. Your GPA, your legacy status, the athletic scholarships—we own your path. Don’t mess it up with petty crap.”
“It wasn’t petty,” I said, low. “He crossed a line.”
Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “There are ways to handle disrespect that don’t involve police reports and bruised knuckles.”
“I handled it my way.”
“And next time, if there is a next time, your future might not survive it.”
I nodded, jaw tight, rage still curling in my gut like smoke.
Because I wasn’t sorry.
Not even a little.
Jade was mine. No one talked about her like that.
Not if they wanted to keep their teeth.