Chapter 10
chapter ten
The fluorescent lights buzz above as I stand next to Alec in front of the classroom. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I blush. Because the way Alec looks at me? Surely everyone here can read all the dirty things he’s done to me right from my reddening skin.
But Alec just gives a nod, and plugs his laptop into the adaptor. Suddenly, our presentation appears on the projected screen.
“Today, Salem and I would like to present you all the opportunity to break into the medical industry,” he begins, oozing all that rich by charisma I hated him for. But, coming from his lips, everything sounds like a golden opportunity.
He clicks the slide. “At first glance, this plot of land doesn’t look like much. Greenery. Wet. Hot. We all know what Florida is like. Heaven or hell, right?” He smirks as he looks out at the audience.
Damn him and that charisma.
“What is the hidden, golden opportunity here, is what grows naturally in this area,” I say, taking my turn. Alec clicks the slides again, and it shows a certain berry. “In the form of something the health care industry is scrambling to get its greedy little pawns on.”
And Alec and I proceed to absolutely crush our presentation. We present the data. The research. The numbers. And it’s all factual. It’s all realistic.
And I get the sneaking suspicion Alec may have actually invested in the real deal plot of land we based our research on. That’s how good our pitch is. Alec Vanderholt bought into it himself.
We work seamlessly together, playing off each other's points, our combined knowledge filling the room. As much as I hate to admit it, we make one hell of a team. As much as we might have wanted to kill each other at the beginning of this thing, we work. Guess that’s what happens when you put the two smartest people in the room on the same team.
I can somewhat admit it to myself now. Alec Vanderholt is my only rival in the room.
When our presentation comes to an end, I'm so damn proud.
The class is able to cast a vote. We’ve all been given the same allotment of fake money to buy each other’s projects. You’re to choose wisely because you only have so much money.
Alec and I set our price high. The highest of all the projects.
And when it comes time to “sell” off our project, sixty percent of the class raises their hand.
“Fuck yeah,” Alec says under his breath, quiet enough only I can hear it.
A smile creeps onto my mouth.
"Excellent work, Ms. Winters and Mr. Vanderholt," Professor Harlow says, marking something down in his grade book. "One of the best presentations this semester."
He’s trying to humble us. It’s easily the best presentation. But Professor Harlow never was one to give praise.
But as we return to our seats, beneath the table, Alec bumps his fist to mine. We both know we just slaughtered the competition.
I unlock my dorm room door, thoughts of the presentation still rolling through my brain. I can imagine logging in and seeing our perfect marks now. But the sight that greets me in my room stops me dead in my tracks.
A stunning gown lies draped across my bed, shimmering in the dim light. My heart races as I step closer, my eyes fixed on the gown. It’s a deep shade of emerald green, with intricate beading and lace detailing all over.
It’s the most stunning piece I’ve ever seen.
And looks like it cost more than this semesters tuition.
I grab my phone and fire off a text to Alec, not bothering to hide my irritation.
What the fuck is this?
Your dress for the gala.
He replies almost instantly. The smug bastard probably knew exactly how I’d react.
Be a good girl and wear it.
Shit. My face instantly flushes at his words. He knows exactly what those two little words do to me. Want to melt Salem Winters? Apparently all you have to do is call her a good girl.
Relax, Salem, it’s just a dress. Can’t wait to see you in it.
He texts when I hesitate too long to find a response, his arrogance practically radiating through the screen.
"Asshole," I mutter under my breath, tossing my phone onto the bed. But as I run my fingers over the soft fabric, I know I'll wear the dress. And I hate myself for loving it.
The soft hum of laughter and anticipation fills the dorm room as my friends and I gather around the mirror, applying our makeup with expert amateur precision. Tonight is the gala, and despite my initial reservations about attending, I can't deny the infectious excitement in the air.
"Damn, Salem, you look smoking hot in that dress," Jess teases, nudging me playfully. I’ve missed her. We’re in different programs and we rarely see each other anymore. "Where did you get it?"
“Just some secondhand store across town,” I lie, hating that I do. But there’s no way I can admit the truth.
“I don’t think so,” Isabella says, cocking an eyebrow at me in the mirror. “That thing looks like it cost more than my parents entire bakery.”
“I bet I have some idea,” Jess teases. “Might it have something to do with a certain blond campus god?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I deflect as I apply my mascara.
"Come on, Salem," Lily, a friend from class chimes in, grinning mischievously. "I saw your presentation yesterday. Admit it, there's something between you two."
"Absolutely not," I snap, but a tiny smirk betrays my annoyance. The truth is, I'm nervous about seeing Alec tonight, wondering what he'll think when he sees me in the dress he bought. The mere thought of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine.
"Whatever you say, girl," Jess laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. "But we all know there's more than just hate brewing between you two."
"Why are we talking about boys,” I snap, “when you’re walking around looking like a straight up fucking goddess?” And it has the desired effect. Jess is vain when it comes down to it and she loves attention. She strikes a pose, and we all laugh.
I so needed this. Some girl time with my friends. They mean so much to me. When I came to Westcroft, I didn’t know a soul. It felt so far away from home, and I felt so out of my depth. But one by one, I found the women who understood me. I can't help but feel grateful for these friendships, providing a much-needed respite from the harsh realities of Westcroft University.
Finally, as we walk to the gala together, I feel a mixture of anticipation and excitement coursing through me. The grand hall looms before us, decked out in opulence and extravagance that makes my stomach churn. This is a fundraiser. It’s what helps to fund scholarships like mine. It’s for the next generation. And there will be dozens of wealthy parents in attendance, past alumni, wealthy residents of town. And we’re all a spectacle to be seen.
"Ready to make an entrance?" Lily asks, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
"Let's do this," I reply, steeling myself for the night ahead.
The grand hall is a symphony of opulence and elegance, a dazzling display of wealth and sophistication that threatens to swallow me whole. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling like glittering stars, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of grandeur and nobility, transporting me to a different era.
Guests mill about in their finest attire, their laughter ringing like crystal chimes in the air. Women in flowing gowns of silk and satin glide gracefully across the marble floor, their jewels sparkling under the soft lights. Men in tailored suits stand tall and proud, their voices deep and commanding as they engage in animated conversations.
The tables are decked out with floral arrangements so vibrant and lush, they seem to come alive in a riot of colors. Crystal glasses glint in the candlelight. Waiters weave through the crowd, balancing trays of delectable appetisers.
I try not to, but I’m not actually that strong. My eyes immediately scan the room for Alec, but he's nowhere to be found. A flicker of relief dances through me, quickly followed by a surge of disappointment.
I shouldn’t care about his opinion of me in the dress he bought me, but I honestly can’t wait to see his reaction.
"Hey, are you okay?" Jess asks, concern etched on her face as she notices my distraction.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, forcing a smile. "Just taking it all in."
"Well, let's go grab some drinks," she suggests, tugging at my arm. "Maybe that'll help take the edge off."
"Sounds good," I agree, allowing myself to be led away from the entrance.
The gala's opulence is suffocating, every sparkling chandelier and gilded decoration reminding me of the vast divide between my world and theirs. I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the sensation that I don't belong here.
"Take it easy, Salem," Lily murmurs into my ear, sensing my unease as she hands me some champaign. "You're just as deserving of being here as any of these rich assholes."
"Thanks," I mutter, forcing myself to put on a brave face. As I mingle with the guests, I can't help but feel like an imposter among them. Their conversations are filled with talk of yacht trips and vacation homes, topics I have no experience in.
"Ms. Winters?" A shiver works its way up my spine at the voice from behind me. I turn to see a handsome if not aging man walking up. His blond hair is graying at the temples, and there are crows feet sprouting from the corners of his eyes. But he’s still handsome. Yet it’s the cold look in his ice blue eyes that makes my skin crawl, that makes me feel like turning and walking away swiftly.
But there’s no denying who he is.
"Mr. Vanderholt," I reply, swallowing hard.
"You and my son’s project presentation was quite impressive," he says, though his tone is anything but warm. His eyes scrutinize me, as if looking for some flaw or sign of weakness. “Professor Harlow gave me the rundown.”
"Thank you, sir," I respond, doing my best to maintain my composure. "Alec and I worked hard on it."
"I’m sure you did,” he says, though it almost sounds like an accusation. "It's always interesting to see how... different backgrounds can come together."
"Everyone has something to contribute," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the ire boiling beneath the surface. "No matter their background."
"Indeed," Mr. Vanderholt replies, his words laced with a barely concealed sneer. "One must wonder, though, if some contributions are more valuable than others in certain contexts." His gaze pierces through me, as if he's trying to unravel my secrets with just a look. The subtle implication hangs heavy in the air, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.
I muster a tight smile, refusing to let his condescension get the better of me. "Well, I believe diversity of perspectives is crucial for innovation and progress," I counter, my voice cool and measured.
Mr. Vanderholt's lips curl into a disdainful smirk. "Ah, the idealistic views of the underprivileged," he remarks, the underlying mockery unmistakable in his tone. "It's charming, in its own naive way."
My jaw clenches at his patronizing remark, but I bite back the retort that threatens to spill from my lips. Instead, I take a sip of champagne.
“To keep a scholarship at Westcroft in good standing, it’s wisest not to get distracted when so close to the finish line, wouldn’t you agree?” he asks. But he doesn’t wait for my reply to his out of left field comment. He strides off, putting on a fake smile and waving at his next victim.
"Fuck him," Jess mutters as she suddenly appears at my side, her eyes blazing with anger as she watches the interaction from afar. "I didn’t even hear a word he said, but from the look on your face… You're ten times the person he'll ever be."
"Thanks, Jess," I say, trying to shake off the encounter. But shit. Was that a threat against my scholarship? Was he… was he trying to warn me off of Alec?
"Hey, Salem!" A familiar voice calls out, and I turn to see Josh approaching with a smile. "Looking stunning tonight. Care for a dance?"
"Sure," I agree with the roll of my eyes. Josh has danced with a different girl for every song tonight. The boy is… desperate
"Alright," he grins, clearly pleased. It’s not the same flirtatious smile he gives every other girl. I’m not sure what it is, but things have never been that way between us. Some people are clearly only ever meant to be friends, and that’s me and Josh.
But something sinks in my stomach as we move onto the dance floor. This feels… wrong. These are the wrong hands settling onto my waist. These are the wrong shade of eyes looking into mine. It’s even the wrong smell.
“You seriously look amazing in that dress, Salem,” he says, looking down at it. He’s not being gross, he’s genuinely complimenting it.
“Thanks,” I say, blushing at the thought of where it came from. “You look nice too.”
“Got any big plans for Christmas break yet?” he asks, very good at the small talk.
“Um, no, actually,” I confess. “I can’t afford to fly home, so it’s going to be a quiet stay on campus for me.”
“That’s too ba?—”
"Get your fucking hands off her," someone growls from behind me. And I’m a wreck of reactions. Panic. Guilt. Relief.
Alec steps around me and shoves Josh.
"The fuck?" Josh raises his hands defensively, backing away. "We're just dancing."
"Not anymore." Alec takes a menacing step toward Josh, who takes a mirrored step away.
“Salem?” Josh calls, his brows furrowed with annoyance and worry.
“I’m sorry, Josh,” I say, because, fuck. “It’s fine. Just… I’ll talk to you later, ‘k?”
Josh looks annoyed and angry and a little hurt, but when he sees I’m not pushing Alec away, he turns and walks away with tense shoulders.
Alec turns and pulls me toward him, wrapping his hands around my waist. His body is tense, anger radiating from him in waves.
"Seriously?" I snap, my gaze locking with his as he sways me in time with the music. "You have no right to barge in here and act like an overprotective caveman."
"Neither do you have any business dancing with that prick," he retorts, his grip on me unyielding.
"Excuse me? Josh is my friend, and I don't need your permission to dance with anyone!"
"His hands were two inches from your ass,” he growls, his eyes darkening. “It wasn’t exactly hard to tell what was going through his head, Salem. Do you think I could just stand there and watch that shit?"
"Since when did it become your problem who puts their hands on me?"
Alec exhales sharply, his frustration evident. "Shit, Salem. I?—”
“Come on, Alec,” I goad, unable to stop myself. “Words have never failed you before. Out with it.”
“I can't stand seeing another guy touch you, Salem,” he finally bursts, his eyes widening as he looks at me. And I see it there, the truth of his confession. He looks around, checking that no one overheard him. “It pisses me off, alright?"
"Is that supposed to make me feel special?" I challenge, but inside, my heart races at his admission.
"Maybe it should," he mutters, his gaze never leaving mine. The intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine, and I fight to maintain my composure.
"Listen, Alec, I know what we’ve been doing behind closed doors. But I'm not one of your little rich girl playthings. You can't just shove someone else away because you're feeling possessive."
"Fuck, Salem," he curses, shaking his head. And the entire mood around us shifts. It gets darker, more serious. Something changes in his eyes as he narrows in on me. "You really don't get it, do you?” He leans in closer, his eyes studying my lips, my eyes, my body. He shifts slightly closer, the distance between our bodies disappearing. “You're in my head all the fucking time. And shit, it's not just your body I dream about nonstop; it's your fucking mouth, your non-stop banter, the way you put me in my place. You drive me crazy."
"Are you being serious?" I ask, because I truly can’t tell. My tone is sharp, even as a shiver runs down my spine at the raw honesty in his confession.
"Deadly." He locks eyes with me, making sure I understand the gravity of his words. "I crave you, Salem. I want you. Mine."
His admission stirs something deep within me. Mine. Hell, why do I like that word coming off his lips so much?
But can I go there? Can I accept everything that’s going to come with it? The outbursts? The possessiveness? The looming threat of his father?
"Come on, Alec," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm not one of those rich girls you're used to. Why would you want me?"
"Exactly," he retorts, his eyes never leaving mine. "You're better than any of them. And you’re not afraid of me.”
I swallow once. He’s right. I’m not afraid of him.
But as I look around the room and see the eyes watching us, I know that there is one thing I am afraid of.
The rest of them.
Alec hooks a finger under my chin, drawing my eyes back to his. “None of them have to know.”
“You’re making it a little obvious,” I breathe out, my entire body shaking.
I see the gears turning behind those eyes.
“Say you’ll be mine, Salem,” he says quietly, his words an intimate caress. “Say you’ll be mine, and I swear I’ll take care of the rest.”
My heart is hammering so fast. I feel like my entire life is about to change. And I’m scared. And exhilarated at the same damn time.
Against my better judgement, I answer. “I’m yours.”
A wicked smile, the one that I’m quickly growing to love more than just about anything, starts to grow on his lips.
“Good,” he breathes, his eyes darkening with desire. “Now, let’s get out of here before I lose my fucking mind.”
“But you said?—”
“Meet me back at my apartment in twenty minutes. Play along,” he says darkly.
And suddenly, he shoves me back, giving me this smirk that takes me right back to where we were the first week of this semester. “In your dreams, charity.”
Fuck. That hurts. But I see it in his eyes, he hates the words coming out of his mouth.
So I throw a curse at him, a loud one for all those other idiots to hear. They snigger at us, but Alec walks back to them all casual swagger, one hand in his pocket. They murmur idiotic things, but I let it roll off me.
"Hey, are you okay?" Isabella asks as she walks up, her eyes filled with concern as she touches my arm. I force a smile, trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions threatening to burst out of me.
"Ugh. I’m fine," I say confidently. “Just Alec messing with me again. But I took care of him.”
“Good,” she says, eying Alec like he’s something slimy at the bottom of the garbage. Which makes me feel a tiny bit defensive over him. That is my man now. Right? “He was looking at you like he was going to eat you to the bones. Fuck, he’s intense.”
“Yeah, he is,” I agree, knowing my face is flushing. “Hey, I’m going to get some air. Might call it a night.”
“What?” she asks, suddenly panicked. “No!”
“Babe, it’s fine,” I assure her with a smile. “I’m all partied out. You have fun with the girls.”
“Fine,” she says, sticking her lower lip out in a pout. “See you on Monday.”
"Thanks," I mumble, making my way toward the exit, feeling one particular set of eyes watching me go.
Once outside, the cool night air does little to calm my racing heart. My mind races with questions and doubts - what am I doing? This isn't me. Agreeing to be Alec’s secret girlfriend. Him agreeing to keep it between us for my sake. Him confessing… everything he just did. Is this for real, and Alec really feels this way about me?
As I walk through the quiet streets, the anticipation builds inside of me. The possibility of being caught, the secret desire we share - it all makes my stomach twist and turn with a mixture of nerves and excitement. I can't help but wonder if this is what it feels like to truly come alive.
"Get a grip, Salem," I scold myself, trying to tamp down the overwhelming emotions threatening to take over. "You're not some lovesick teenager."
But as I approach Alec's apartment building, I can't help but feel like I've stumbled into a world completely foreign to me. A world where the wealthy and powerful play by their own rules, and where a girl like me might just find herself caught in the crossfire.
"Fuck it," I mutter, taking a deep breath as I enter the building. There's no turning back now.