Page 52 of The Ruthless Rivalry

“Is that why you’re here?” I ask, my voice laced with a sharp edge. The thought of him stepping into that pool right now makes me tense, but I hide it. If he goes in there now he’ll know without a doubt it was me who set him up, and Maxwell already threatened me about behaving.

He leans over, trying to get a better look behind me, but I react instinctively, shifting my weight to block his view. The last thingI need is him discovering what I set up inside. But it backfires, because somehow I end up wedged tightly between him and the corner, trapped with no way out.

Sylvester’s smile deepens, his eyes gleaming as if this whole situation has suddenly shifted in his favor.

I refuse to budge, even though I can feel the heat of his gaze on me. This isn’t how I expected things to go, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

Sylvester leans in slightly, his smile turning teasing. “You know, you’re not making this easy on me,” he says, his voice light, playful, as if we’re sharing an inside joke. He reaches a hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, but I angle my chin just enough to avoid his touch.

I arch an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Don’t you have professors to flirt with?”

His grin doesn’t falter. “You know it’s not like that,” he fires back, his voice a little lower now, a hint of sincerity threading through the playful banter.

“So what’s the real reason you’re here? Besides checking out my personal space?” I ask, stepping slightly to the side to put more distance between us.

He frowns, his expression shifting for a moment—hurt, maybe? I can’t quite tell, and I don’t really care either way. The Legacies have caused me more than enough misery.

“I saw you over here and wanted to make sure you were alright. It’s late, and you’re alone.”

I scoff, letting out a dry laugh. “You? After everything you and your friends have pulled? No thanks. I’d rather risk the rain.”

“What, you think you’re better off out here in the storm? You really don’t want my help?”

I scoff, unable to hide my disgust. “If you said that to Professor O’Donnelly, how do you think she would respond?”

He smirks, unfazed, clearly enjoying the back and forth. “I’m pretty sure she’d find me charming, just like everyone else does.” Sylvester steps a little closer, his grin widening. “In fact, you found me endearing once too.” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s no edge to it, not pushing too hard, just enjoying the moment.

I raise an eyebrow, making sure my expression stays cool. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

His grin falters for a split second, but then he recovers, still leaning in. “You sure about that, babe? I’m not that easy to forget…”

Before I can respond, a voice cuts through the air, sharp and teasing. “Well, well. What’s going on here?”

Ophelia steps into the scene, sliding under the awning, her gaze flicking between us with a knowing smirk. “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, her voice laced with a knowing edge, as if she’s caught us in something she’s eager to hold over our heads.

I quickly step out of the tight space between Sylvester and the corner, putting some distance between us.

His grin slips, replaced by a flicker of irritation in his eyes. Was it aimed at me or her? Probably both. He turns to Ophelia, his displeasure evident. “What’s the deal, Ophelia? I thought you were keeping Bishop entertained for the rest of the night?” His gaze sweeps over her, his voice laced with mock curiosity. “Didn’t think he’d ditch you so soon.”

The jab is like a slap to her face, and I can feel the tension crackling in the air between them. I watch Ophelia’s expression shift, her posture becoming more defensive. Sylvester’s words clearly hit a nerve.

But something else lingers in the air, something I didn’t expect. It’s the way he said it, like it was some sort of jab at Bishop, and the thought of Ophelia being with him, even for amoment, causes an unexpected pressure in my chest. A flare of unwarranted jealousy stings me, sharp and unwelcome, burning hotter than it should. It’s ridiculous. Why should it matter to me who my shadow spends his time with?

The moment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken words, as Sylvester and Ophelia exchange a charged look. Ophelia’s lips press into a thin line, but her calm exterior betrays the simmering frustration underneath. She doesn’t snap at him, though. Instead, her gaze shifts to me.

“I actually came to find you, Alex,” she says smoothly, her voice taking on that sickly sweet tone that reminds me too much of my mother when she wanted something from me. But there’s something about the way her eyes drift to the sky that raises a flag. “There’s someone who’s, uh, in need of help. Someone…who swallowed something they probably shouldn’t have down at the shoreline,” she adds with a slightly forced casualness, but I can hear the uncertainty in her words.

What? Nomudslidenickname tonight?

“Swallowed something?” I repeat, not bothering to mask the skepticism in my voice. “Why did you feel the need to go trudging through the rain to find me because of that?”

“Yeah,” Sylvester agrees, equally wary.

“It’s, uh, plant-related,” she says, almost too quickly, like she hadn’t had time to properly form the story before spitting it out. For a brief moment, I can see the cracks in her confident facade, but then it’s like she collects herself, sliding back into her usual sharp, smirking demeanor. “And since you’re Altair’s resident plant girl, I volunteered to come and find you. To see if you could, you know, help.”

She steps closer, voice dripping with insincerity as she eyes me with that knowing look. “I mean, you wouldn’t want someone to die, right? Youarethe expert, after all. Not like you’ve got anything better to do out here.”

Her gaze flicks to Sylvester, that same accusing look she had when she first approached, as if she thinks she’s caught us in some sort of act. She doesn’t say anything more, but her eyes linger on him for a moment, sharp and pointed, before they shift back to me, sweet but venomous. “So, are you going to live with the chance of someone’s death on your conscience, or are you going to help?”

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