Page 45 of The Ruthless Rivalry

His jaw clenches, a slight twitch of muscle as his gaze flicks briefly to Reith, then back to me. “In private,” he insists, the command clear in his voice.

I glance at Reith, who looks between us with an unreadable expression. He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his face guarded. “Sure. I’ll catch you later, Alex.”

As Reith walks off, I can’t help but think,traitor.

I turn back to Bishop, crossing my arms over my chest. “You didn’t win,” I say, irritation bubbling up. “Deal with it.”

“This isn’t about winning or losing,” he snaps, what little patience he normally has long gone. “It’s about you.”

I raise my chin, taken aback. “Me? What about me?”

“Next time I tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?” His tone is stern, final.

I step closer, letting my voice drop low. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Same as before. I’m not asking,” he snaps, his voice sharp as a razor’s edge.

I stand my ground, my smirk biting back. “Funny, because I wasn’t asking either.Same as before,” I spit back.

“You think this is a negotiation?”

“I wouldn’t call it that. More like a one-sided conversation.”

He smirks, he seems almost…entertained? Was he actually amused by this? By my defiance? It’s strange, unsettling even—one minute, he’s yelling, and now he’s acting like…well, like a normal person. Except for the wholedemandingpart.

“Cute, troublemaker,” he mutters, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. “But fine.”

Fine.

“Fine?” Was I really talking to the same Bishop?

“You can make up for disobeying me today by joining me tomorrow.”

Ah, there’s the condescending Bishop I knew—wait. What? I blink, caught off guard by his words, and his grin tells me he’s already won. It was a smile that conveyed both condescension and victory, leaving me feeling off-balance and outmaneuvered.

“That’s not happening.”

He shrugs, his indifference almost palpable. “Tomorrow. I’ll meet you at your room. Dress however you want. I don’t really give a fuck.”

Chapter 10

Sylvester

Alex didn’t come.

The beach party had been going on for hours, the sky now a deep, inky black, but still she was nowhere to be found. I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering how our tutoring session ended the night before, but I couldn’t help feeling a small twinge of disappointment that she’d turned down my invitation. No one had ever rejected me before.

We were gathered around our usual spot by a separate bonfire, while the other students chatted and laughed nearby, kicking off their weekend festivities.

Cam held up his empty beer bottle and announced that he was finished with it. I motion to a nearby freshman, and they rush off to grab him another, returning in just a few seconds with a fresh cold one. “Does anyone else need anything?” they ask timidly, looking around at our group.

Sutton declines, and Bishop simply grunts in response, barely looking up from the flames of the fire. He’s been in a bad mood all evening, but that’s nothing new—he always seems to have a dark cloud hanging over him.

“Actually, I could use—” Ophelia starts to say before I cut her off abruptly.

“Everyone’s good,” I tell the freshman dismissively. “You can go now.” They scurry away quickly, eager to avoid any further interaction with our group.

Ophelia shoots me an irritated look, but I ignore it. She knows better than to ask for favors from the underclassmen while around us. Being a Legacy is a privilege that only a select few can claim. Just because she’s dating one of us doesn’t automatically make her a part of our circle, much to her annoyance.

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