Chapter 16 — Cossette's POV
The office was black. Not just any black, but the kind of black that swallowed light and hope whole. Cold, sharp, unfeeling. A place where Frost could work and thrive—and somehow, I could not imagine anyone surviving here with warmth intact. I let out a sigh. "I need to decorate this," I muttered to myself, the edges of my voice tasting of defiance.
I sank into the chair behind the desk, booted up my computer, and began my research. University students, it turned out, wanted pizza, noodles, anything fun and easy. Exactly what I had suspected.
An hour passed before a knock rattled the door. My first instinct—Anika, coming to slice me with her venomous words.
"Yes, come in," I called, not looking up.
Alaric stepped inside, smirking like a fox who'd found a rabbit. "Cossette, Cossette… I have to say, watching you handle Frost just now? Impressive."
He didn't sit politely. No, he dropped into the nearest chair like he owned it. I knew Alaric. Frost's best friend, his shadow, fiercely loyal—but free-spirited enough that even Frost couldn't cage him.
"Do you need something, Alaric?" I asked, standing and moving toward him.
He rose too, blocking my path. My breath caught—part shock, part something I didn't yet want to name. Until now, he had barely spoken to me beyond polite hellos.
Then he leaned closer. His fingers brushed against my lips. My heart jumped, but not in fear—something darker stirred. His voice, husky and low, brushed against my ear. "I love the new version of Cossette."
He pulled back, eyes dark and smoldering, and walked out without another word.
The room seemed to tilt. What the hell just happened? Was he drunk? Sent by Frost to unsettle me? Or… had he seen the same fire I had?
I shook myself. Revenge waits for no one. Sitting back down, I pressed my hands to my head. I needed a team. I needed allies. Someone to help me turn the university market into my battlefield.
"Betha," I called out, louder this time.
Betha—rich, effortlessly glamorous, an influencer in her own right, but more than that, a born manager. She had the brains, the creativity, the connections, and the audacity to match mine. She could be my secret weapon.
I reached for my phone, about to call, when a message pinged.
Rebecca—Ray Lether.
"Let's meet tonight. This address."
Tonight. My pulse quickened. Ray had always been a wildcard, dangerous and magnetic. And now, his invitation promised a new layer of intrigue.
I leaned back in my chair, dark thoughts curling in my mind. Revenge, strategy, and something far more dangerous—the slow burn of desire.
This game was just beginning. And I intended to win, every step, every player, every heart that dared cross me.