Chapter 15: Julian Broken Ego

Julian swallowed hard, desperately trying to puff out his chest and salvage what was left of his dignity.

"Yeah, well, at least my car is mine, man!" he yelled across the pavement, his voice cracking slightly as he gestured wildly. "Who’d you rent that thing from, huh? You think throwing away your life savings on a lease makes you a big man?!"

Nobody bought it. The crowd just stared at him with pitying smirks while he stood there, practically trembling with rage. His ego was already six feet under, completely buried beneath the roar of the supercar and the sheer flex of our presence.

We didn’t even bother giving him a reply. I just turned my back on him, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s waist as we started walking toward the main hall, completely writing him off like background noise.

Standing right beside Julian, Sarah—who had been quiet the entire time—gazed at me with a completely transformed look in her eyes. The disgust and dismissiveness she used to show me were gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated awe and regret. She took in my confident posture, the dark carbon-fiber beast parked behind us, and the high-society aura radiating off Chloe.

As Julian kept rambling bitterly to himself, Sarah subtly shifted behind his back. Catching my eye for a brief fraction of a second, she gave me a quick, secret little wave, biting her lip with a nervous, hopeful smile that practically screamed call me.

I didn’t give her the time of day. I didn’t even blink or break stride. My eyes stayed locked straight ahead, completely ignoring her pathetic attempt at a pivot. She had made her choice back when she thought I was broke, and now she didn’t even exist to me.

Chloe caught the whole interaction out of the corner of her eye, letting out a soft, triumphant chuckle as she leaned into my side.

"Look at her," Chloe whispered softly, her voice full of sweet, sharp satisfaction. "She actually thinks she stands a chance. You really broke both of their brains today."

"They’re not even on the radar anymore," I said smoothly, opening the heavy glass doors to the academic building. "We’ve got bigger fish to fry."

As we walked down the polished hallway toward our first lecture, the whispers followed us through the corridors. But now, it was time for the final piece of the puzzle: setting the record straight with Dean Vance.

I kissed Chloe on the cheek near the main rotunda before she headed toward her advanced seminar. Watching her walk down the hall with her chin held high and a new, unshakeable confidence was a win in itself.

Turning toward the administrative wing, I pulled out my phone as it buzzed in my pocket.

[New Message: Sarah]

"Look, about everything that happened before... I made a huge mistake. Julian is so immature, and I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. I still love you, you know? Can we please talk? I miss how things used to be..."

I didn’t even bother tapping to expand the rest of the wall of text. A quick glimpse was all it took to see the desperate backpaddling. When she thought I was broke, I was invisible to her; the second a million-dollar car entered the picture, she suddenly "remembered" her feelings.

Without breaking stride, I hit the settings icon, blocked her number, and shoved the phone back into my pocket.

Thirty seconds later, I reached the grand mahogany doors of the Dean’s office. I didn’t knock. I just turned the brass handle and stepped straight inside.

Dean Vance was sitting behind his massive oak desk, a smug, satisfied grin plastered across his face as he reviewed his morning paperwork. He didn’t even look up at first, assuming it was a staff member.

"I believe I made it clear that student drop-in hours are strictly after two, unless you’re here to turn in a resignation," the Dean said in his dry, arrogant voice.

"I’m not here to resign," I said smoothly, stepping up to his desk.

The Dean snapped his head up, his smug look instantly souring the moment he recognized my face. He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers with a cold, condescending sneer.

"Ah. You," Vance drawled, shaking his head. "I see you’re still lingering on my campus. I assume you received the portal notification regarding your revoked financial aid? If you’re here to beg for a reinstatement, save your breath. The decision is final, and without a scholarship, you simply cannot afford to be a student here."

I didn’t say a word. I just reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out the crisp, officially stamped bursar receipt for $18,500.00, and tossed it squarely onto the center of his desk.

The Dean frowned, picking up the piece of paper with a dismissive flick of his wrist. But as his eyes scanned the bold red text reading PAID IN FULL - STUDENT STATUS: ACTIVE & GOOD STANDING, his face drained of all color. His jaw went completely slack, his fingers trembling slightly as he stared at the receipt in absolute shock.

"How... where did you..." he stammered, his polished composure completely collapsing.

"Tuition’s paid for the entire year, Dean," I said, leaning over his desk, my voice dangerously calm. "So unless you’re planning on fabricating a legal violation in front of the board, my standing here is bulletproof. Oh, and by the way—your niece gave me a ride to campus today. We’re having lunch later."

I turned on my heel, leaving him staring at the paper in stunned, silent horror as I walked out of his office.