Page 38 of The Ruthless Rivalry

“I didn’t expect her to act that way when she insisted on coming tonight,” he defends himself. “She’s never been so…forward.”

Is he serious? I can’t even comprehend his reasoning.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “And that makes it okay?”

“I told you, you don’t understand how things work here.”

“Clearly not,” I snap back. “And frankly, I don’t want to understand a system that allows this kind of behavior.”

He rubs the back of his neck, the tension clear in his posture as a frustrated sigh slips out. “It’s not that simple. There are…expectations. Traditions. Things we have to do to maintain our status.”

“And that includes letting professors feel you up under the table?” I ask incredulously.

Sylvester winces. “No…well, yes. Look, I didn’t ask for this. None of us did. But sometimes…sometimes we have to make compromises, let things slide if it means we get things in return.”

I stare at him, waiting. “Like what?”

He sighs. “Access. Favorable placements. Letters of recommendation. Grades that keep you eligible. And sometimes… information.”

I shake my head, disgust welling up inside me. “That’s not a compromise. That’s exploitation.”

And yet… if the Legacies are really so powerful, so influential—why is someone like O’Donnelly allowed to get away with this? Is this what they were raised to believe success looks like? That doingwhatever it takesmeans letting things slide, even when it’s gross and humiliating? If that’s the cost of staying at the top, then maybe the whole system is already rotten.

Then again, I already knew that—had seen it in a hundred smaller ways since the day I got here. So why am I even surprised?

He looks away, unable to meet my eyes. “You don’t get it. The pressure we’re under, the expectation—”

“Stop,” I cut him off, holding up a hand. I don’t want to hear about Legacy pressures or expectations right now.

“I’m just trying to explain—”

“You don’t need to explain anything,” I interrupt again. “What you need to do is report her behavior to the administration and board.”

Sylvester lets out a humorless laugh. “Report her? Man, you really are new around here.”

“I’m going inside,” I snap, cutting him off before he can say anything else, already stepping away from him and toward my dorm building.

Without another word, I push through the door and head inside.

As I make my way down the hallway, I feel a hand suddenly block my path. It’s Victoria, my RA, standing in the middle of the hall like she’s got all the time in the world. I exhale sharply and turn on my heel, fully prepared to keep walking past her.

“Rough night?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, already sizing up my less-than-thrilled expression.

I give a short, exasperated huff, but otherwise let the silence linger like a thick, suffocating fog.

She doesn’t back off. Instead, she steps even closer, her lips curling into a slight smirk. “Still the delightful charmer I see.”

My eyes tighten, not in the mood to entertain her game. “What do you want?”

She leans in, her lips pressing together before twisting in an almost dismissive way. “Mandatory hall meeting tomorrow night. You’ll be there. I’ll only say this once—don’t be late. I’ve got plans after with my girlfriend, and I’m not waiting on a bunch of lazy residents who can’t follow directions. Got it?”

I let out a long breath, the weight of the night already pressing on me. “What time?”

“7:00 PM, sharp. Common room,” she says, and I can already hear the finality in her voice as she turns, giving me her back. “Be there, or I’ll make you regret it.”

As she walks off, her shoes bounce with the rhythm of someone who thinks they’ve got it all figured out. I mutter under my breath, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I keep walking, slower now, the warped wooden floor creaking beneath my feet. The hallway reeks of dampness and something vaguely metallic—like old pipes and mold I know no one bothered to clean. I wrinkle my nose, pausing as I glance at the vent just above the doorframe.

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