Chapter 6
The morning assembly buzzed with tension as Headmaster Brunswick explained the sponsorship system to the new students. Andrea sat rigid in her seat, all too aware of the five pairs of eyes fixed on her from different corners of the auditorium.
“The sponsorship program,” the Headmaster intoned, “is Blackthorn’s way of ensuring that our scholarship students receive proper guidance and support from their more… advantaged peers.”
Sophie leaned close to whisper, “Translation: wealthy students get to buy themselves personal servants while pretending it’s charity.”
Andrea gave a small smile on it, even though there was no humor in it.
“Each sponsor,” Brunswick continued, “provides their protégé with a weekly stipend in exchange for academic assistance and other appropriate support services. The exact terms are negotiated privately between parties.”
The word “appropriate” hung in the air like smoke, leaving plenty of room for interpretation. Andrea noticed several scholarship students shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
Only now Andres was able to understand the full meaning of Nathaniel’s offer to “sponsor” her, because in the absence of a full understanding of the situation during their previous meeting, she was not able to give her consent.
But Nathaniel wasn’t the only one who had made such an offer
The first offer the next morning came from Gabriel.
He caught up with her after her literature class, his expression calm but serious as he handed her a plain, unadorned envelope.
“I know you’ve probably already been overwhelmed,” he said, his gray eyes steady. “But I’d like to sponsor you. You’d have access to everything you need, and there’s no catch. Just… think about it.”
Andrea opened the envelope later, finding a handwritten note outlining his offer: enough funds to cover any expenses, academic resources, and a promise of discretion.
The second was Liam’s—unsurprisingly, the most theatrical.
He arrived during lunch, sliding into the seat beside her with a grin. “Don’t think I’m letting my brothers win this one,” he teased, handing her a velvet pouch.
Inside was a delicate golden key, attached to a card that simply read: To every door you want opened.
“Metaphorically and literally,” Liam added with a wink, clearly enjoying her baffled expression.
Damien’s approach was far more understated. He appeared in the library that afternoon, placing a meticulously typed proposal in front of her.
“This is everything you need to know,” he said curtly. “My sponsorship isn’t about indulgence. It’s about efficiency. I expect results.”
Andrea’s eyes widened as she skimmed the document, noting the detailed breakdown of resources, contacts, and a timeline of how he planned to help her achieve her academic goals. It was overwhelming in its precision.
Then there was Aiden.
True to form, his offer wasn’t delivered formally. Instead, he stopped her in the hallway after class, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
“Don’t read too much into it,” he muttered, shoving a crumpled piece of paper into her hand.
She unfolded it later to find a scrawled message:
I won’t tell you what to do, but I’ll make sure no one messes with you if you pick me.
The assembly was nearly over, students milling toward the exits in a hum of conversation, when Nathaniel Sinclair’s voice sliced through the air like a blade.
“I’d like to formally announce my intention to sponsor Miss Andrea Riley,” he declared, standing at the front of the hall with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. His tone was measured, calm, and perfectly pitched to carry across the room without sounding forced. “At triple the standard rate.”
A ripple of shock swept through the crowd, cutting off conversations mid-sentence. Silence descended like a falling curtain, heavy and suffocating.
Andrea’s chest tightened as every head turned toward her, a sea of wide-eyed stares. The weight of their gazes pinned her in place, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Before she could process Nathaniel’s declaration, another voice broke the quiet. Gabriel Sinclair stepped forward from where he’d been standing near the side of the stage, his demeanor composed but resolute.
“I also wish to put my name forward as a sponsor,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with quiet authority.
The murmurs began to stir again, but they were silenced as Damien Sinclair’s clipped tone followed.
“As do I,” he said, his words clinical, devoid of any inflection beyond cold precision.
Andrea barely had time to register the implications before Liam’s unmistakable voice rang out, cheerful and irreverent as always.
“Don’t forget me!” he called, leaning casually against a pillar with an easy grin, as though this were all a game.
Then there was Aiden. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His intense gaze from the back of the hall spoke volumes, the weight of it drilling into Andrea like a warning or a dare.
The tension in the room was suffocating, a taut thread stretched to its breaking point. It finally snapped when Victoria Sterling’s delighted laugh rang out, sharp and mocking.
“My, my,” she drawled, stepping forward with all the poise of a practiced actress. Her ice-blue eyes gleamed with malice as she looked directly at Andrea. “Our Queen certainly knows how to draw attention. Though I suppose that’s what happens when you play every card in the deck.”
The room erupted. Whispers surged like a tidal wave, filling the space with speculative murmurs and thinly veiled accusations.
Andrea’s cheeks burned, but she forced herself to keep her head high as the assembly dissolved into chaos.
By lunchtime, the damage had been done.
“They’re saying you’ve been sneaking into their rooms at night,” Sophie said grimly, her voice low as they sat together in a secluded corner of the courtyard. “Victoria’s calling you the Queen of Sheets now.”
Andrea nearly choked on her water. “That’s ridiculous! I’ve barely spoken to any of them outside of class.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sophie’s jaw tightened, her dark eyes scanning the courtyard as though searching for listening ears. “Victoria doesn’t need the truth. She just needs something people want to believe. And a scholarship girl sleeping her way to the top?” She scoffed bitterly. “It’s a perfect story.”
Andrea felt a surge of anger rise in her chest, her hands clenching into fists. “She’s lying. How can people not see that?”
Sophie hesitated, her expression darkening. “Because they want it to be true. You’re not supposed to have this much power, Andrea. You’re a white tie. Someone like you isn’t meant to rise above them. This story… it lets them drag you back down.”
Andrea pressed her lips together, her mind racing. “What do I do?”
Sophie looked away for a moment, her fingers tightening around the edge of her notebook. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Stay careful. And remember Emma Lawrence?”
Andrea frowned. “Who?”
“She was a scholarship student—two years ago. The last one who caught the Sinclair brothers’ attention.” Sophie’s voice trembled slightly. “She disappeared. No one knows where she went. One day she was here, and the next… gone.”
The words hung in the air like a curse. Andrea’s pulse quickened, a new layer of dread settling over her.
“Just… watch your back,” Sophie added quietly. “Because no one else will.”
Andrea’s protest died in her throat as an elegantly uniformed messenger approached their table, bearing a silver tray with a single envelope. The paper was thick, cream-colored, with her name written in flowing calligraphy.
The message inside was equally elegant:
Miss Andrea Riley,
The Sinclair family requests the honor of your presence for dinner this evening at Seven Oaks Manor. A car will arrive at six o’clock to escort you.
Given the multiple sponsorship offers extended by the Sinclair brothers, we feel it appropriate to provide a proper setting for you to make your final decision. Please be prepared to announce your choice of sponsor by the end of the evening.
Formal attire required.
Cordially, Nathaniel Sinclair On behalf of the Sinclair family
A small key fell from the envelope – antique brass, with a heart-shaped bow. Below the invitation was a handwritten note:
P.S. – The enclosed key opens a specific door at Seven Oaks. Finding it might help inform your decision. Choose wisely, Queen of Hearts.
Andrea stared at the key, its metal warm against her palm. Sophie’s words about Emma Lawrence echoed in her mind, mingling with memories of the bloody Ace of Spades left in her room.
“Andrea,” Sophie’s voice was barely a whisper. “Whatever you do… be careful. The Sinclairs aren’t just playing for control of the school. There are rumors about their family – dark ones. People who cross them tend to regret it.”
“If they’re so dangerous, why offer sponsorship at all? Why make it so public?”
“Maybe that’s exactly why.” Sophie’s eyes were haunted. “What better way to control someone than to make them walk willingly into your trap?”
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