Before Ling could take a single step—
"Ling."
The voice came from behind her.
loud.
Familiar.
Ling turned slowly.
Mira stood a few feet away.
She was 5'4 smaller than Ling—shorter, softer in build, shoulders narrow beneath a light grey cardigan. Her hair was tied back neatly, dark eyes gentle but searching. She looked out of place in the brutal geometry of the courtyard, like something human dropped into a machine.
Ling's expression didn't change.
But something in her chest tightened.
"Mira," Ling said flatly. "You're back early."
Mira smiled—a restrained smile that never quite reached her eyes. "Holiday ended sooner than expected."
Behind her stood two boys.
Jian and Rowen.
They weren't students in the usual sense. More like extensions of Ling's will.
Jian was tall, broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed—hair cropped close, posture military. He wore a dark hoodie over a fitted tee, arms crossed, presence solid and silent.
Rowen leaned casually against a pillar, leaner, lighter, eyes always moving. A faint smirk played on his lips, the kind that knew too much and said nothing. If Jian was force, Rowen was strategy.
Ling's assistants.
Her people.
Gone for weeks.
Back now.
The line of students exhaled collectively. Authority had just doubled.
Jian nodded once. "we're late."
Rowen chuckled softly. "Traffic."
Ling's gaze returned to Mira.
She noticed the way Mira stood slightly closer to her than to anyone else. Always had. Always would.
Ling knew.
She had always known.
Mira's loyalty wasn't professional. It never had been. It was quieter. Deeper. Dangerous in its own way.
And Ling had chosen—deliberately—to never acknowledge it.
Pretending ignorance was easier than dealing with softness.
"You shouldn't be standing here," Ling said coolly. "Go inside."
Mira hesitated. Just a second.
"I heard about yesterday," she said gently. "About the new girl."
Ling's jaw tightened.
"So did half the campus," Ling replied. "That's how noise works."
Mira studied her face—the tension she pretended wasn't there, the anger polished into calm.
"She's… different," Mira said carefully.
Ling laughed once. Empty. "Everyone thinks that before they break."
Her eyes flicked instinctively—
toward the building Rhea had entered.
Mira followed the glance.
She saw it.
That infinitesimal delay.
That fraction of interest Ling never allowed anyone to see.
Something cold settled behind Mira's eyes.
"I'll go inside," Mira said quietly.
She stepped away—but not before adding, softly enough that only Ling heard:
"Be careful what you hate too much."
Ling didn't answer.
Mira walked off, her presence fading like a held breath finally released.
Rowen straightened. "Want us to handle Miss Attitude?"
Ling's eyes hardened instantly.
"No," she said. "She's mine."
Jian nodded once. Acceptance. Loyalty without question.
Ling turned back toward the courtyard, authority settling over her like armor once more.
The Rolls-Royce gleamed behind her.
Her people stood at her back.
Yet—
Somewhere ahead, Rhea Nior walked freely.
And somewhere behind, Mira watched silently—loving someone who would never turn around.
Lingling Kwong stood between them, cold and controlled—
unaware that for the first time in her life,
the greatest threat to her power
was not rebellion
but attention.