Chapter 6 – Rowan
Chapter Six
Rowan
By the time the sun sets, I’ve settled three IOUs, drafted a liability waiver for a freshman who thought cheating wasn’t technically academic dishonesty, and explained to one of the first-years—twice—that no, I don’t offer mentorship, internships, or mercy.
I haven’t thought about Tessa once.
Not really.
Not since she flipped me off in property law.
Granted, I shouldn’t have smiled at her.
I definitely shouldn’t have winked.
But there’s something about watching Tessa Whitmore unravel, one tiny eye twitch at a time, that’s always been entertaining.
She’s always known how to take a hit, and I never offer softness where strategy works better.
Now I’m tucked into the corner of Hale she’s smarter than anyone else in this room, and when cornered, she’s sharp enough to draw blood.
The problem is whether I can keep myself from watching too closely, from seeing the flicker in her eyes when she realizes just how much I’ve maneuvered her into place.
Hale doesn’t hire attorneys without polish, and polish requires narrative—commitment, balance, a life that looks manageable under pressure. Parrish packaged his narrative with a ring. Camden rehearsed his into something he can get away with. Mine has teeth. Mine requires her.
And when Hale looks at me—because she will—I need her to see more than control and calculation. I need her to see the one thing I don’t actually have.
Stability.
No one makes me look more real than Tessa Whitmore.
Because with her, I was real. Once. Before I learned that real meant vulnerable and vulnerable meant disposable.
And Hale doesn’t want perfect.
She wants convincing.
And I’ve never been more dangerous than when I’m telling the truth.