Page 9 of The Ruthless Rivalry

Sly hesitated, his hand still on mine. “Are you sure? We can talk more if you want.”

I dip my chin, encouraging him. “I’m fine. Really. Go practice.”

He looks at me for a long moment, concern etched on his face. Then he nods, standing up. “Okay, but how about after I finish, we grab a late dinner at the dining hall?”

“Sure,” I agree, knowing if our mother found out, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. But Sly’s puppy dog eyes were hard to resist, even when I was annoyed with him. That charm is exactly why he always has multiple girls vying for his attention, which can be frustrating when I just want to have a conversation with him without any distractions. Which is exactly why I got us these watches—so that we could meet up and talk without interruption.

As he dove back into the pool, I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. Sometimes being a Legacy at Altair really fucking sucked.

Chapter 3

Alex

Ihad been cleared, which I was still questioning, even after the nurses removed the bandage from my head, managed to wash off most of whatever that leftover red stuff was on my hands, and helped me change back into the clothes I’d been wearing and not that drafty, awful hospital gown. Although my back was still sore from the fall, they assured me that I was otherwise unharmed, except for some bruising that would heal within the next week or so. Dr. Rodriguez advised rest, minimal stimulation, and no intense mental activity for the next few days—standard concussion protocol, he said, though it felt more like house arrest.

It seemed a bit contradictory to me, since everyone, including him, had agreed that it was acceptable for me to attend this reception ceremony, despite throwing away the flag. Not that my father was aware of that yet. I let him keep the stars in his eyes for a smidge longer.

“Ready to go?” he asks, helping me to my feet. I nod, trying to ignore the dull ache in my head. As we walk out of the hospital, the bite in the chilly night air makes me wince.

“You’re up for this right?” my father asks, concern etching his features.

A flash of confusion crosses my mind. He was the one who insisted I come, the one who reminded me we were Prescott’s, that we were built different. So why was he questioning it now? Shouldn't he just be telling me to suck it up and keep moving?

“I’m fine, Dad,” I lie, forcing a smile. “It’s just a little ceremony, right?”

He acknowledges me with a nod, but I detect a flicker of something in his expression I wasn’t sure how to interpret. Caution? Understanding? I’m unsure how to respond to it, but he speaks first. “I never imagined spending parents’ weekend in the hospital,” he says, with a small chuckle.

“I was taken aback when I saw you,” I agree, my voice catching. Especially given the circumstances.

He seems to tense at my words. “Did you really not expect me to show up?”

I hesitate, unsure how to answer. The truth is, I hadn’t expected him—or anyone from our family—to come. Though, a small part of me had hoped he would, which was why I’d gone to the natatorium. Maybe Mom had been right when she said I wanted my father to protect me, to defend me.

Hadn’t he already failed me? Just yesterday, he’d sided with Sutton, who was obviously lying, instead of trusting me. And yet, here I am, standing beside him, not saying a word. Noconfrontation. No explosion of anger. I don’t ask why he sent me to Altair with no preparation, no mention of the games, the ranking system, none of it. He just dropped me off and expected me to figure it out. That’s the way it always goes, though, isn’t it?

I could be angry. I should be angry. But what would it do? I was still here at Altair.

Maybe I’m just used to it by now. This is how he deals with everything—no preparation, no support, and no recognition of how it affects me.

With Vera though? I’d always blamed her for everything—the way she treated me, how she left me alone to deal with my pain. She was the one who made me feel unworthy. And yet, here I am, trying to make excuses for him, for the man who lets me down too. Is it because, deep down, his betrayals never felt as devastating as hers? Because I expected worse from Vera? Or am I just so used to disappointment that even a little support from my dad feels like enough?

“I wasn’t sure what to expect.” I admit finally, my voice jaded. Guarded.

He sighs, running a hand through his brown hair which is starting to show some gray. “Look, I know things have been…difficult between us. But you’re my daughter. Of course I’d be here.”

We walk in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. As we approach the main Altair building in all its castle-like gothic glory, I gather my courage.

“Dad, about the golden flag…” I begin, but before I can finish, he speaks up at the same time.

“I’ve been meaning to—”

We both stop, realizing we’ve started talking at once. We share a brief, awkward chuckle. Then, just as quickly, the same bell-like ringing noise from the pre-trial games cuts through the air, echoing across the courtyard.

My father’s face hardens, and he sighs, glancing at me. “Let’s not talk about it now,” he says, brushing it off with a practiced air. “We’re here for the ceremony. I want to see how my daughter is ranked. We can talk about other matters later.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. The golden flag feels like a ticking time bomb between us, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it from exploding.

As we enter the building, the grandeur of the interior of the great hall takes my breath away. Stone columns stretch toward a vaulted ceiling, and intricate tapestries line the walls. Students and parents mill about, their voices a soft murmur against the backdrop of classical music. Tables form rows down the center of the room, some occupied with people, others not.

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