Page 115 of The Ruthless Rivalry

I give him a nudge with my elbow, trying to further lighten the mood, but Cam’s expression doesn’t shift. Instead, he just sighs, glancing away, clearly frustrated.

“Let’s just get through the night, okay?” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s conceding. It’s the way he always does when he’s trying to make peace, but it only feels like a reminder that nothing has changed between us.

I nod, turning my attention back to the next student in line, but my mind is still on the unspoken expectations that hang in the air of being a Legacy.

As I hand over the next prize, something catches my attention. A faint, odd smell drifts toward me, something faintly burning.It’s not enough to make me panic, but it’s enough to make me wrinkle my nose. I glance over at Cam, tipping my chin.

“Cam, did you leave your hair straightener on again? I swear, there’s that same singed smell in the air.”

He shifts uncomfortably and looks over his shoulder, clearly not registering my attempt at humor. “What?”

I chuckle, shaking my head, but the smell seems to be getting stronger. I follow his gaze, wondering if there’s something going on behind us, and that’s when I hear it. A crackling sound. It’s faint at first, but unmistakable.

Before I can say anything, Cam spots the source. Both of us turn simultaneously, our gazes locking on the giant circus tent just beyond the booth. What we thought was an insignificant crackling turns into a full-blown burst of orange flame rising rapidly from the side of the tent. The fire is spreading fast, and the bright light from the flames casts an eerie glow over everything.

“Oh my God,” I murmur, my heart leaping into my throat.

Cam’s face shifts from annoyance to sheer panic. His eyes widen as he processes the fire quickly growing out of control. “Sutton you need to get out of here! NOW!” he shouts, his voice sharp with urgency.

I freeze for a moment, my heart pounding as the flames lick higher and higher into the night sky. It feels like everything is happening too fast, and I can’t seem to move.

“Go! Get away from the tent!” Cam yells again, turning toward the students and shoving them toward the exits. But there’s no time. The fire is moving too quickly.

I manage to snap out of it for just a second, moving to the next student, pushing them away. “Go, go! The tent’s on fire!” I shout, my voice laced with panic. But the words feel hollow, almost drowned out by the crackling of the flames.

I glance back, and the next thing I see makes my blood run cold. Sparks are flying from the LED wires of our booth, sizzling as they catch the heat from the spreading fire. I watch, frozen, as the flames dance dangerously close, threatening to engulf everything.

“Cam!” I shout, but he’s already turned, yelling at the other students to run.

My chest thumps as I watch the wires snap, another cable catching fire, and I realize it’s heading straight for me. It’s not just the booth or the tent anymore. The whole area is at risk.

“Sutton!” Cam’s voice rips through the chaos, and I barely register the urgency until I feel him grabbing my arm, yanking me away from the scene.

“What are you doing?” he snaps, his grip tightening. His eyes blaze with fear, and in that moment, I see nothing but concern. “We need to move—NOW!”

I blink, dazed, still unable to tear my eyes away from the scene behind me. Our booth, the one we’d worked so hard on, is already starting to go up in flames. I watch as sparks fly and the bright, electric glow of the lights is replaced by a wave of fire. The whole thing is collapsing, the flames rising higher with every second.

“Cam!” I gasp, but he’s already pulling me away, dragging us. My legs feel like they’re made of lead, but I don’t fight him. He’s not letting go.

Just as we clear the area, my eyes flicker back toward the fire, and the booth is completely consumed now. A tight knot forms in my chest, but before I can process it, I’m swept off my feet, my body pressed into a strong embrace.

“Sutton!” Sly’s voice sounds in my ear, thick with concern. I feel his arms tighten around me, the familiar warmth of my twin brother surrounding me like a shield.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the safety of his hug, but the panic and shock still hang in the air. The fire is still raging, the smoke stinging my eyes, but in this moment, it’s his grip on me that grounds me—reminds me that no matter how much chaos surrounds us, we’re together.

“Are you okay?” Sly asks softly, pulling back just enough to look at me, his face pale. But the moment I nod, he’s already looking toward Cam, who’s still shouting orders at the remaining students to get to safety.

The night had spiraled out of control so quickly, and yet, here we were. Despite it all, we were alive. But as I glanced back at the chaos, the flashing lights, and the thick, black smoke curling into the sky, I couldn’t shake the fear that things weren’t over yet.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the acrid scent of smoke still clings to the air, stinging my nose and making my throat tighten. My heart is racing, my mind still replaying the chaotic moments as I glance back at the fire one last time. It’s hard to shake the feeling that something’s not right, something more than just the fire itself.

I turn to Sly, looking for some kind of solid ground in this sea of panic. “Where’s Bishop?” I ask, suddenly aware that I haven’t seen him anywhere. I look around the area, but there’s no sign of him.

Sly scans the chaotic scene as he speaks. “Just missed him. He’s taking his mom to the car. The smoke got to her—had her coughing pretty badly. Seemed like the flames got pretty close to him, too. His clothes were singed, pretty tattered, actually, looked like he’d been caught right in the middle of it.”

I blink, my gaze instinctively following the direction Sly had pointed to, but Bishop’s already gone. The more I think about it, the stranger it seems. I’m still wrestling with the feeling that something’s off, but before I can say anything else, my eyes drop down to my own appearance.

I’m covered in ash, my clothes have the faint smell of smoke, and my hair is a tangled mess. But I don’t feel singed. Nothing about me looks like I was anywhere near the fire. I’m just…shaken.

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