Chapter 6: The Mask Behind the Smile
In the pristine white lounge of the Moore Estate, night moonlight shimmered through the stained-glass panels, dancing across marble floors and golden-edged vases. The opulence was suffocating—an elegance too cold to be comforting.
Alina Williams, sat across from her mother, barely eating food. Her manicured nails tapped impatiently on the edge of the china plate, lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes, however, were aflame.
"She actually turned it around," Alina muttered, bitterness twisting her tone. "That wretched girl got the college to apologize to her. She's walking around like a damn saint now."
Across the table, Mrs. Veronica Williams, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy silk gown, sipped her coffee with practiced calm. Her crimson lipstick remained untouched by the cup's edge, her expression elegant yet calculating.
"She was supposed to be ruined," Alina hissed. "The forum, the fake posts, everything how did she recover so fast?"
Veronica set her cup down gently. "Control yourself, Alina."
"But "
"Acting like a petulant child won't get you what you want," Veronica snapped, her voice crisp as a blade. "You're too emotional. Too loud."
Alina scowled. "She's always had everything first her parents, then your brother and Elena's affection, and even Ryan? I was supposed to be the one everyone looked at!"
Veronica leaned back, folding her arms, gaze sharp. "And I and your father was supposed to own what your grandfather gave to her mother. But I didn't get it either, did I?"
Silence fell like a veil.
Veronica's lips curled into a bitter smile. "The sins of one generation live in the next. That's how the world works. Your hatred is inherited, just like mine."
Alina blinked, her eyes widening.
"We will destroy her ," Veronica said, tone as soft as silk and just as dangerous. "But not through messy teenage tantrums. We'll pull her apart strand by strand, so when she falls, it'll be permanent. Controlled. Quiet and you will get her mother billion worth company just listen me ."
Alina's breath shuddered with rage, but she nodded slowly, a cruel light dawning in her eyes.
Outside the window, the moon hung like a witness to their malice.
---
In the heart of the Williams Estate, Anya sat cross-legged in the center of her spacious room. Her sanctuary was painted in tones of soft lavender and dusky purple, accented with silver furnishings and a crystal chandelier that bathed everything in a muted glow. Her favorite lilac-scented candle burned beside her, a familiar anchor to the present.
A sleek laptop sat open on her desk, screen illuminated in a deep shade of navy black—code flowing across it like water.
The audio feed in her earbuds crackled with a voice.
"I don't care if she has the college's backing now. I want her out of that position. Slowly. We'll leak something into her project budget. Or maybe find a student who'll make her look incompetent."
Anya's eyes remained still, lashes lowered. She didn't react.
Alina's voice.
And Veronica's, smooth and venomous.
Anya had wired Alina's phone the day after her return. A custom-coded trigger alerted her anytime Alina's device detected her name in audio. Paired with a discreet remote hacking chip installed via a disguised gift box, Anya had full access to her calls, files, texts, and camera.
She let the audio play as she slipped on her black gloves and tapped into the dark web under her pseudonym: "Nyx."
Within moments, messages flooded in—requests for security breach recoveries, corporate espionage, and encrypted identity services. She selected three high-level jobs and began typing swiftly.
An hour later, she had accumulated another ten million in her secure offshore account.
She wouldn't touch her mother's money. Not yet. That inheritance was under surveillance from all sides.
Instead, she quietly reinvested the dark web earnings into carefully selected future stocks and cryptocurrencies, her memory of financial timelines from her past life making her predictions almost prophetic.
In her previous life, she'd handed her intelligence to Aaron helping him run his company because she believed her mother's legacy was a betrayal. A suicide.
How foolish.
She sighed, staring at the screen.
She had been a puppet then. But now, she pulled the strings.
---
The next morning, breakfast passed in silence. David and Elena sat at the table, but Ethan's chair remained empty.
"He didn't come home," David said, frowning.
"He left early yesterday. I thought he'd at least message us," Elena murmured.
Anya stirred her tea. "I'm sure Ethan's okay. I'll check on him."
After breakfast, she slipped into her car and headed toward the college campus.
---
Meanwhile, in the Rehearsal Hall, tension hung thick in the air.
The dance team, mid-practice for the semi-finals, moved in perfect rhythm—except for two glaring exceptions.
Ryan and Ethan.
Their usual precision was fractured, both visibly distracted.
Ryan's footwork faltered.
Ethan missed a count.
"Cut!" sinnea shouted, exasperated. "Ryan! Ethan! What the hell is going on with you two?"
Ryan blinked, sweat dripping down his temple. His mind had been a whirlwind—Anya's words from the terrace still looped in his thoughts.
"We don't have the trust a relationship needs."
And Ethan… his father's disappointment echoed louder with each step he took.
"Sorry," they muttered in unison.
"Again," sinnea snapped.
The music resumed.
By the time Anya reached the campus gates, the gossip that once suffocated her had begun to die down. The rumors had turned into background noise, students whispering behind hands but no longer daring to confront her.
She didn't care.
Their opinions had no weight.
After her morning classes, she entered the college union office—her temporary haven.
Files were stacked, her notes organized with methodical perfection. She was reviewing the final layout for the upcoming college festival.
The door opened.
She didn't have to turn to know who it was.
Ryan.
Their eyes met. A pause.
He walked over slowly. "Hey."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're talking to me now?"
"I never stopped," he said softly. "Just… didn't know how."
Anya folded her arms. "And now you do?"
Ryan gave a crooked grin. "Not entirely. But I'm trying. I've thought a lot about what you said."
He looked down, then back up, meeting her gaze squarely. "I want to start over. Be someone you can actually trust. Not just the guy who shows up when he wants."
Anya studied him for a long moment.
"I'm not the girl I used to be," she said quietly. "I won't settle for half-effort or pretty words."
"I don't expect you to," he replied. Then, extending a hand, he added, "So... let's start small. Friends, right?"
Her lips twitched. "You say that like you expect a prize for trying."
Ryan leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Just being close to you feels like a win."
Her breath caught for half a second but she didn't let him see it. "Don't flirt."
"Wasn't flirting," he whispered with a wink. "Just being honest."
Anya shook her head, smiling despite herself. "You're impossible."
"You like impossible things."
She rolled her eyes but didn't let go of his hand for a beat longer than necessary.
Just then, the rest of the council walked in, bustling with plans and conversation. Anya and Ryan stepped apart, their hands brushing one last time.
But the softness lingered.
something real was starting again.
.