Chapter 23 #3
“Oh I need your info,” Melanie said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve been trying to find a good tech down here!”
“She’s from Connecticut,” Celine added with a nod.
“You gonna have time to do all our nails before the game?” Tyler asked eagerly.
Dorian laughed. “Not enough time for a full set on all y’all, but I brought a few press-ons I custom designed. You can pick whichever set you like, and I’ll apply them for you. Don’t worry—my glue’s top tier. You won’t have to worry about them popping off while throwing ass tonight.”
The girls hollered with excitement again, clapping and bouncing on the couch like it was a slumber party.
Harper and Dorian smiled, masking the heaviness in their hearts.
They were getting closer. But every step forward reminded them who they were doing this for—and how much time they didn’t have left to save her.
Dorian and Harper settled into the dorm’s cozy living room like they belonged there.
The air buzzed with music and liquor, laughter echoing off the walls as Dorian worked through each girl’s nails like she was running a mobile salon.
The girls were obsessed with their sets, holding their hands up to the light, snapping pictures, already planning their captions for Instagram.
Harper, meanwhile, stayed sharp—engaging, smiling, but never losing focus.
This wasn’t a girls’ night. This was war disguised in acrylic and charm. Hassan’s voice still echoed in their ears: Milk her for anything. Every detail, every slip-up. Don’t leave without her.
Now Dorian was on Celine’s first hand. Harper leaned forward casually, voice sweet but deliberate. “So, that security standing outside your door? You the president’s daughter or something?”
Celine rolled her eyes dramatically, exhaling like the very thought exhausted her.
“Please. Nah, they’re my grandfather’s goons.
He insists they follow me everywhere like I’m some damn princess.
I could be going to the corner store and they’re right there.
” She scoffed and snatched another shot of Don Julio.
“Can’t breathe without one of them staring down my back. ”
“You sure you don’t want a shot?” she asked, holding the bottle out to Harper with a lazy grin.
Harper shook her head with a polite smile, masking the fact she could outdrink everyone in the room. “Nah, I don’t drink.”
Celine’s eyes widened. “You getting through college sober? Girl, couldn’t be me. If it’s not the two dickheads outside my door, it’s my family blowing up my phone, or these damn professors acting like their class is the only one that matters. Shit, I need three drinks just to survive the week.”
Good. Let her keep drinking, Harper thought. The looser her lips got, the better their chances of finding a crack in her armor.
“So who’s your grandfather, exactly?” Harper pressed, watching Celine closely. “You talk about your family like they’re the evil stepmother and you’re Cinderella.”
Dorian smirked but stayed quiet, letting Harper take lead. Dorian was the drag-her-out-by-the-hair type. Harper? She finessed.
Celine sighed, resting her hand as Dorian finished gluing her last nail, before moving to her other hand.
“He owns this billion-dollar tech company,” she said, waving the words off like they didn’t matter.
“But honestly? I think he does more than that. My grandma never says it, but there’s shit that doesn’t add up.
Like why would a tech CEO need personal security for his granddaughter just to walk across campus?
It’s like… I don’t know. Secret ops or some mafia-type shit. ”
Bingo.
“Celine, we about to head to the yard. You good?” Kameron called from the doorway, the other girls already halfway out.
Dorian and Harper exchanged a look, mugging the group silently. If the roles were reversed, they would’ve never left Sevyn alone with two strangers who just popped up out of nowhere.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Celine waved them off without hesitation. “Hazel and Dior, y’all still coming to the Omega party, right?”
“Of course,” Harper said, fake smile locked in place.
“Bet. We’ll see y’all there,” Celine said as the girls headed out, completely unaware they’d just left Celine in a room with two women who were planning to take her.
Dorian and Harper didn’t speak—didn’t have to. The look they gave each other said it all.
Celine downed another shot, her hand steady but her words slurring more with each sentence.
Harper watched her carefully, noting how the girl tossed back liquor like it was water.
Her tongue was getting loose, and Dorian—already moving slow on her nails— was playing her part perfectly, dragging out every detail.
They didn’t have long before the liquor made Celine either pass out or puke, so Harper kept her tone casual, coaxing.
“I think your grandfather just wants to protect you, especially with you being away from him now.” Celine scoffed, her lips twitching with irritation.
“I love my grandfather—more than anybody else in this world. But he can’t alway s protect me.
I’m grown. In college. Eventually, I’ll be out here on my own.
I can’t have security guards shadowing my every damn move.
Not only do they scare the hoes, but they suffocate the fuck outta my space.
” Her words tumbled out lazily, but Harper could tell every syllable came from a place of exhaustion.
Celine probably had the world at her feet—money, privilege, a top-tier education—but still felt like a prisoner.
“You haven’t said much about your parents,” Harper pushed gently, letting her voice shift into something softer, more curious.
Celine let out a short, dry laugh. “Ain’t much to say. But you sure ask a lot of questions about my family.” Her smirk was crooked, drunk and amused, but not suspicious enough to stop talking.
“I guess I just relate, that’s all,” Harper replied, lowering her eyes like she was exposing something vulnerable. Her voice cracked just enough. It worked.
Celine’s brows pulled together, her curiosity piqued. “Damn, my bad. You got security crawling around your life too?”
Harper chuckled, playing the moment right. “No. My parents are… well, not really anyone to speak on either. They both died. Never really got to know them. I was raised by my grandmother.”
For once, Harper wasn’t lying. But it wasn’t about connection—it was strategy. She needed Celine’s walls down. Vulnerability mirrored was vulnerability earned.
Celine blinked, then sighed. “My mom died having me. My dad—hell, he works so damn much he might as well be a ghost. My grandparents raised me too. My grandfather… he’s everything.
Strict as hell, but he means well. Ever since my cousin—my grandma’s nephew—was murdered, he’s been on some next-level paranoid shit with security.
I was only seven when it happened, but my grandma made it real clear the first time I ditched them guards.
Told me how important it was. ‘Can’t be too careful,’ she said.
‘Not after what happened to the family.’”
She rolled her eyes, dismissing the weight of it like it was just some dramatic family tale passed down. But Harper and Dorian knew the truth. That “cousin” wasn’t just a family tragedy—it was the root of a war. A war Celine had no clue she was standing in the middle of.
And with that, Harper knew. She was in.
“Done,” Dorian said, placing the last nail on Celine’s finger.
The crystals shimmered under the light, setting off the nude base with a sparkle that made her entire outfit pop.
Celine’s eyes lit up. “These are fire!” she gushed, standing quickly but stumbling a little from the shots she’d been throwing back all night.
Dorian caught her gently with a smirk. “Wanna ditch your secur ity tonight? I know a spot—club always lit during homecoming. My friends are already there, we got a section.”
The moment Celine heard “club,” “section,” and “escape,” she perked up like a kid hearing recess. “That sounds fun as fuck. But I doubt I’m getting past those two out front. They don’t blink.”
“You’d be surprised how easy it is to slide into and out of places when you know how to move,” Dorian said with a sly grin. Harper chuckled, catching the inside joke.
Celine raised a brow, intrigued and already halfway convinced. “And how exactly are we supposed to pull that off?”
“Let me make a quick call,” Dorian said, slipping into the nearby bedroom—the one with Celine spelled out in lit-up letters on the wall, soft pink light glowing behind it.
She dialed Roman.
“Wassup, baby? How it’s looking in there?
” Roman’s voice rolled through smooth and low, his tone clouded with smoke.
She could tell by the rasp he was high. Probably in the same state as Hassan, who smoked more now than ever—trying to keep himself sane, keep from losing control since Sevyn went missing.
“We got her. She’s down to come, but the problem is her security.
They won’t let her out their sight. We need a way around them.” Von’s voice crackled through her earpiece. “Walk out like normal.
Courtyard’s packed with students. I’m sending out a bomb threat— don’t worry, fake—but it’ll scatter the crowd and pull campus police. That’s your window. Get her out clean.”
Dorian nodded, even though no one could see her. “Copy.”
“Aye, be careful,” Roman added, his voice suddenly quieter, weighted with something deeper. “I love you.”
Dorian froze for a beat, her heart lurching. It was the first time he’d ever said it. The first time either of them had. And just like that, her heart fluttered. “We will. I love you too.” She couldn’t stop the smile that crept across her face.
“Wait… can Hassan hear me?” she asked, suddenly remembering he was sitting next to him.
Roman hesitated. “Now he can.”
Dorian took a breath. “Hassan… this ain’t your fault. I was wrong for blaming you. We’re getting her back. I swear it.”