From the first day of university, Keifer had been… different.
Not just smart. Not just popular. Not just strong.
There was an aura around him—quiet, undeniable. One glance, one word, and even the rowdiest students would pause mid-sentence. Professors rarely interrupted him; the administration rarely argued. It wasn't fear exactly—it was respect. Reverence almost.
By the start of the semester, it was obvious: Keifer ran the place. Not with cruelty. Not with arrogance. But with presence. And presence mattered.
Cyrus had learned that the hard way.
He tried subtle intimidation. Tried showing up when Jay was around. Tried twisting casual interactions into reminders that he had once been "important" in her life.
But the university had a rhythm. And Keifer set the tempo.
The moment it became clear that Cyrus was crossing lines—once again trying to corner her, talk to her against her will, and even show up where he shouldn't—Keifer's calm, quiet authority made the call.
He walked into the principal's office, Jay beside him. No shouting. No theatrics. Just Keifer.
"Cyrus doesn't belong here," he said.
One sentence. One phrase.
The principal's eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"
"I've explained it before," Keifer said evenly. "He's harassed a student. He's ignored clear boundaries. He's a danger to the environment of the university. I expect him to be expelled immediately."
There was no debate. No argument.
In that moment, the entire department, faculty, and administration felt the weight of his presence. It wasn't that Keifer demanded it—they gave it willingly. The respect, the fear, the certainty—it was like a current running through the walls.
"Very well," the principal said, unable to mask the slight tremor in his voice. "We'll begin the expulsion process today."
Outside the office, students whispered. Some stared. Some simply bowed their heads in quiet acknowledgment.
Jay exhaled beside him, finally allowing herself a small smile. She felt a weight lift—not because Cyrus was leaving, but because Keifer was there.
Keifer glanced at her, expression unreadable. One hand brushed hers briefly—a silent reassurance.
And somewhere deep in the university, Cyrus realized that no matter what he did, he couldn't challenge Keifer's authority. He was no longer in control of Jay. He never would be.
The expulsion papers were only the beginning.
From that day forward, one word from Keifer could shift the entire department. And one look from him made anyone who tried to cause harm think twice.
Jay had never felt so safe.
Because Keifer didn't just protect her—he dominated the space around her, and anyone who tried to cross her had to answer to him.