Chapter 138: BIANCA CONFRONTED

The corridor stretched ahead, cold and fluorescent, bathed in the kind of light that made everything look slightly wrong. Georgia kept moving down the hall. Every step away from Bella’s hollowed-out room felt like a decision she couldn’t take back.

Behind her, the door stayed shut.

The quad was maybe three minutes at this pace, and three minutes was enough to force the logs into the open before Darcy could react. Once she put that evidence in front of someone who couldn’t be quietly managed by Valentine enforcers, Darcy’s clean administrative cover story would start developing cracks he couldn’t paper over before the Council arrived; it wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was the only one that didn’t involve waiting around.

The stairwell door opened, and the corridor filled.

Puck stood in her path, arms loose at his sides, weight planted with the kind of stillness that didn’t need a word.

"Move," she said.

"Georgia - "

"I’m not going back to the pack house to sit on my hands while Darcy finishes cleaning house."

The cold tension around his mouth hardened, offering no retreat, but neither did it signal the counterattack she had braced herself to meet. "I’m not asking you to."

She studied him while the corridor hummed with the building’s ventilation, grey light pressing through the far window where the overcast quad waited. "Then why are you standing in my way?"

He told her bluntly that carrying the phone outside alone was suicide; Darcy had posted lookouts across every exit, and stepping into the open quad would hand him an excuse for a Council violation before she made ten feet. Her grip tightened around the plastic casing in her pocket, because while she had factored in the enforcers, she had miscalculated their numbers and their positions.

"I know where Bianca is," Puck said.

That landed differently than she expected, leaving her suspended in silence while she waited for the rest of it.

He had tracked Bianca since morning, confirming that she remained isolated on campus without any Valentine muscle anywhere nearby, and Georgia watched him weigh how much truth to surrender. The phone felt heavier suddenly, shifting the entire weight of her leverage; public exposure was loud and fast enough to force Darcy’s hand, but an indisputable confession from Bianca, recorded and layered over the movement logs, was something the Council could never brush aside as circumstantial.

"You’re willing to go around Miguel on this," Georgia said.

"I’m willing to get you what you need before the deadline," he answered, an iron edge surfacing in his tone; "those aren’t the same thing, but close enough."

Georgia looked toward the quad door at the end of the hall, then turned back to him.

"Show me where she is."

They moved.The arts wing carried the heavy, institutional quiet of campus after hours, and Georgia felt that density settle against her skin as she crossed the threshold beside Puck. At the far end of the studio, Bianca stood motionless beside a tilted easel; her fingers froze mid-reach as she tried to slip her phone out of sight. Behind them, the latch clicked into place as Puck took the exit.

"Georgia," Bianca said, her chin coming up in immediate defense. "I don’t know what you think - "

"I have the logs," Georgia said, crossing the room at an unhurried, measured pace while pulling up the glowing display. The screen showed clear timestamps, building access records, and Darcy’s logged entry to the rink storage during the critical window before her skate blade gave way.

Bianca flicked a brief glance at the illuminated glass, her eyes scanning the top line before fixing on the far wall. "That doesn’t prove I had anything to do with it."

"Not yet," Georgia said.

Behind them, Puck maintained his post beside the frame, filling the gap between Bianca and the hallway with immovable weight. Bianca tracked his solid outline, her posture stiffening under the realization that the corridor was entirely cut off.

"This is ridiculous," Bianca managed, though her grip tightened white against the laminate desk edge. "You can’t just corner me - "

"Darcy isn’t here," Georgia said, cutting through the protest. "Neither is your sister. It’s just us."

The muscle along Bianca’s jaw twitched, the sudden strain pulling sharp across her cheekbones. "I don’t need either of them to handle this."

Georgia watched the tremor in Bianca’s fingers until Bianca yanked them off the desk, crossing her arms over her chest.

Georgia rested the lit phone between them, leaving the black-and-white access records exposed under the fluorescent tubes. "This isn’t going to administration. Miguel won’t see it. It’s going straight to the disciplinary Council, and whoever cooperates first gets whatever leniency is left."

"You don’t understand how this works - "

"Darcy used an expendable accomplice. You gain nothing from the fallout. And you’re already scared."

Bianca looked toward Puck once more, seeking an exit that simply did not exist, before her eyes returned to the relentless columns of time-stamped entries.

"You don’t understand what he’s like," Bianca whispered, the defiant veneer stripping away to reveal the cold panic underneath.

"Then tell me," Georgia said. She offered a single, pragmatic bargain: name the specific task, identify who issued the instruction, and allow the Council to draw a clear line between the architect of the sabotage and someone trapped without leverage.

Bianca released a shallow, ragged breath, her shoulders sagging an inch as the silence lengthened and her hands locked tightly against her ribs.Bianca dropped her hands flat against the wooden desk, fingers spread wide as the last shred of posture deserted her, and when she raised her head, the sharp defiance that usually guarded her expression had completely hollowed out into something raw.

"I switched the blade," she confessed, her delivery stripped bare of its customary control while she admitted to using her access to the storage room before the competition started.

Georgia stood perfectly motionless, acutely aware of Puck remaining motionless behind her right shoulder.

"Who gave you the order?"

Bianca tightened her jaw. "It doesn’t matter where it came from - "

"The Council always wants a complete chain of custody."

The blunt reality forced a rapid calculation across Bianca’s features, pulling her shoulders down an inch as she conceded that Darcy gave the direct instructions. She stared down at the wood. "Darcy wasn’t acting alone. My parents - they’ve been managing leverage with the Valentine Pack for years. He knew exactly where to press."

Georgia met Puck’s silent stare, the exchange lasting less than a second but confirming that this breach was not an isolated act of petty spite; it was an entrenched structural operation designed to manipulate them from the top down.

"How far does it go?" Georgia asked.

"I don’t know the entire network." Her voice cracked. "I only did what I was told."

"That’s not all." Georgia closed the distance. "You know which family member brokered the arrangement with Darcy. And you know how long it’s been active."

A fine tremor started in Bianca’s knuckles. "If Darcy needs someone to hand to the Council," she muttered, staring at her shaking fingers, "it will be me. He stays clean. My parents stay clean. I’m the only one who touched the blade."

Georgia offered no comfort, deliberately leaving the silence intact.

Bianca looked up, the polished veneer gone, her voice breaking into a harsh, trembling whisper. "Everything I did, I did for my family... You don’t understand what it’s like to be expendable in your own house."

The confession hung in the cold air between them. Bianca dropped her head into her shaking hands, her breathing ragged, collapsing under the sheer weight of what she had finally spoken aloud.

Georgia didn’t offer a word of comfort. She reached down, picked up the lit phone from the desk, and tapped the glowing screen to stop the audio recorder that had been capturing every syllable. The file saved with a soft chime.

Bianca jerked back at the sound, her eyes flying open in sudden, sheer terror as she realized the trap she had walked into. She opened her mouth to plead, but the words withered on her tongue.

"We’re done here," Georgia said.

She slipped the phone deep into her coat pocket, turning toward the door. Puck pulled the latch, holding it open as she crossed the threshold into the corridor. The arts wing fell away behind them, their brisk footsteps echoing against the concrete as they moved together toward the quad, armed with the evidence that would blow Darcy’s cover apart.