Click.

  I looked up.

  My breath hitched.

  Kevin.

  He stood there, arms crossed, leaning zily against the doorframe.

  His lips curled—just slightly.

  But that smile...

  It didn’t make me feel relieved.

  It made me feel caught.

  Like he already knew what I was doing.

  Like he had expected it.

  Shit.

  The yearbook was still in my hands.

  My grip tightened instinctively.

  He had seen it.

  He knew.

  "...Find anything interesting?"

  His voice was slow. Light.

  But it pressed against my ribs like a warning.

  I had to stay calm.

  I inhaled quietly. Don’t panic. Don’t react.

  "I was just..."

  Think fast. Lie well.

  I snapped the book shut. "Curious."

  Liar.

  I knew it.

  And so did he.

  Kevin’s gaze didn’t waver.

  He was reading me.

  Scanning. Watching.

  Measuring exactly how much I knew.

  "Curious?"

  He echoed the word, his head tilting slightly.

  Then—he moved.

  A single step forward.

  Then another.

  Slow. Unhurried.

  Like he was enjoying this.

  I didn’t step back.

  But my spine locked.

  The closer he got, the tighter my chest felt.

  "You don’t seem like someone who goes through old yearbooks for fun."

  My fingers curled around the edges of the book.

  "You don’t seem like someone who keeps them."

  Kevin’s brows lifted slightly.

  "...Fair point."

  Another step.

  He was close now.

  Too close.

  I swallowed.

  "...You went to St. Andreas."

  Kevin didn’t react.

  I kept going.

  "Top grades. Sharpshooter. Pilot."

  I looked up—straight into his eyes.

  "And you were in the same css as Jacklen Arthur Surn."

  Silence.

  A shift in the air.

  Subtle. Heavy.

  I hit something.

  For the first time—Kevin didn’t move.

  He just stared.

  Then—

  "Oh?"

  His tone didn’t change. But something flickered behind his eyes.

  "You know Jacklen’s name?"

  There was something off about the way he said it.

  A weight beneath the words.

  A test.

  A trap.

  Tread carefully.

  "It was in the yearbook."

  Simple. Honest.

  His gaze sharpened just slightly.

  Then—

  He chuckled.

  Low. Amused.

  "You really are curious, aren’t you?"

  I clenched my jaw.

  He was pying with me.

  Toying with the conversation like a cat pawing at a mouse.

  "And?"

  His voice dipped lower.

  "What do you think?"

  I exhaled slowly.

  "What do I think about what?"

  Kevin smiled.

  "About me."

  Shit.

  My stomach clenched.

  This wasn’t just a question.

  It was a challenge.

  Kevin was watching. Waiting.

  I had two choices.

  Lie.

  Or tell the truth.

  I tightened my grip on the book.

  "...I think you’re not who I thought you were."

  His gaze flickered.

  Then—

  He smiled.

  Slight. Sharp.

  Like he was waiting for me to figure that out.

  Kevin reached for the book.

  I flinched at the brief brush of his fingers against mine.

  I pulled back instinctively.

  But I couldn’t pull away from him.

  Not really.

  He flipped through the pages, slow and deliberate.

  Then—

  His voice dropped.

  "Are you sure you know me now?"

  A shiver curled at the base of my spine.

  Because the way he said it—

  Like he was waiting for me to realize something.

  Like I still didn’t know enough.

  Like he was about to pull me in deeper.

  And the worst part?

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop him.

  The room was silent.

  Except for the sound of pages turning.

  Kevin sat at his desk, flipping idly through the yearbook.

  His posture was rexed—one leg crossed over the other, elbow resting against the armrest.

  But his eyes...

  They weren’t looking at the book.

  They were somewhere else.

  Deep in thought.

  I sat across from him on the couch, watching.

  Waiting.

  He hadn’t asked me again.

  "Do you really want to know me, Psyche?"

  He didn’t need to.

  Because the fact that I was still sitting here…

  Was my answer.

  "You’re really interested in St. Andreas, aren’t you?"

  Kevin’s voice cut through the silence.

  He didn’t look up.

  I straightened slightly.

  "I just didn’t think you’d be the ‘elite private school’ type."

  Kevin smirked.

  "You didn’t think I was the ‘top grades’ type either."

  "...No. I didn’t."

  St. Andreas wasn’t just any private school.

  It was the private school.

  A pce that didn’t just educate.

  It designed.

  It built.

  Not students.

  Leaders.

  I imagined Kevin in a cssroom.

  Sitting through lectures.

  Taking notes.

  Raising his hand.

  ...It didn’t fit.

  At all.

  Kevin leaned back slightly.

  "It’s just a school."

  I frowned.

  "St. Andreas isn’t ‘just a school.’"

  His lips twitched, like he found that amusing.

  Then—

  He tapped his finger against a page in the yearbook.

  I followed his gaze.

  The names.

  Rows and rows of st names I recognized.

  Titan business empires.

  Global politicians.

  And—

  Crime families.

  My stomach twisted.

  Kevin’s voice was calm.

  "You know every system has a pyramid, right?"

  A chill slid down my spine.

  "A pyramid?"

  He closed the book with a quiet thud.

  "Every society has its hierarchy. No matter where you are—there are people at the top."

  "And people crushed underneath."

  His tone was steady. Matter-of-fact.

  But I caught it.

  Something underneath.

  A weight in his words.

  Like he wasn’t just speaking in theory.

  Like he knew.

  I swallowed.

  "And the people at the bottom?"

  Kevin was silent for a moment.

  Then he shrugged.

  "Not worth talking about."

  Something cold ran through me.

  "...And the people at the top?"

  I gnced at the yearbook.

  At the center of the photograph.

  "Like Jacklen?"

  Kevin let out a low chuckle.

  It wasn’t amusement.

  It was something else.

  Something I couldn’t read.

  "You’re very interested in Jacklen, aren’t you?"

  I tensed.

  "I just noticed he’s in the middle of everything."

  Kevin ran a finger across the photo.

  "He wasn’t at the center because we put him there."

  "He was at the center because we had no choice."

  I stiffened.

  "What does that mean?"

  Kevin tilted his head.

  "It means—when you see him, you only have two options."

  "You stand with him."

  "Or you stand against him."

  "There is no third choice."

  My hands felt cold.

  This wasn’t just some school clique.

  This was power.

  And Kevin had been right in the middle of it.

  The weight in my chest grew heavier.

  Kevin watched me for a long second.

  Then—

  He leaned forward.

  His voice dropped slightly.

  "If you were a wolf... thrown into a den of lions..."

  He studied me.

  "How would you survive?"

  The question sent a chill through me.

  I hesitated.

  "...I’d stay quiet."

  Kevin smiled.

  "Wrong."

  My stomach twisted.

  "A wolf has no pce among lions."

  He exhaled slowly, tapping a knuckle against the book.

  "They’ll only tolerate you... as long as you aren’t a threat."

  "But the second they decide you are—"

  His gaze flickered to me.

  "They’ll tear you apart."

  His words sent a shiver through my spine.

  Because I could hear it—

  The experience.

  This wasn’t just a theory to him.

  It was a lesson learned.

  I swallowed.

  "Then what should the wolf do?"

  Kevin’s lips curled.

  "Choose its king wisely."

  A heavy pause.

  I felt like I was on the edge of something.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fall.

  I inhaled quietly.

  "And if the wolf chooses wrong?"

  Kevin let out a breath of ughter.

  "Then it has one option left."

  His voice dipped lower.

  "Be a wolf smart enough to survive..."

  He tilted his head slightly—

  Without ever bowing to a king.

  The room felt too quiet.

  I held my breath.

  And in that moment—

  I realized something.

  Kevin had never belonged in their world.

  He had never been one of them.

  But he had learned how to py the game.

  And he had done it so well—

  That he had walked among lions and lived to tell the tale.

  My pulse pounded in my ears.

  I couldn’t tell if it was fear—

  Or something else.

  Kevin leaned back.

  "So, Psyche."

  He tapped the book one st time.

  "Still curious?"

  My throat was dry.

  But I forced myself to meet his gaze.

  And for the first time—

  I didn’t know what my answer was.