Chapter 189

Noah

There are moments in life you look back on and wish—God, you wish—you’d done things differently. Moments where the result isn’t what you dreamed of, isn’t what you fought for, isn’t anything close to what you believed you deserved. There are moments you replay with a quiet, persistent ache, wondering if a different word, a different step, a different breath could have changed the outcome.

And then there are moments you wish you had never lived at all.

Moments so catastrophic they carve themselves into the softest parts of you and stay there, forever. That moment—that night, that February Friday under the bright California lights—became the one memory I knew I’d carry like a scar for the rest of my life.

Because the door opened before we could even catch our breath.

Because one second I was feeling Aiden’s mouth on mine, the heat of him, the sheer lightning of everything we’d fought and suffered for—and the next, the world ended.

The dean stood in the doorway first, face twisted with disbelief and outrage so sharp it felt like it sliced the air clean in half. Behind him were two board members—square-jawed, stone-faced men who looked like they had been carved out of military judgment and moral superiority. Coach Harper was there too, and the moment his eyes met ours, he flinched and turned away, jaw clenching with something like shame or respect. He couldn’t look at me. At us.

And behind all of them, tall and immaculate in a designer suit that probably cost more than my entire scholarship, stood William fucking Hart.

His expression was… horrifying. A perfect blend of self-righteous victory and paternal concern. The mask of a man who’d been waiting for this—planning for this—and still somehow playing the benevolent father in front of his audience.

No one spoke at first. There was just the sound of our ragged breathing, our hearts pounding, the distant roar of the celebrating stadium above us—completely unaware of the quiet disaster unfolding under their feet.

Aiden was the first to move.

He stepped back from me so fast he might as well have been burned. His shirt was open, hair disheveled, lips red from our kisses. I knew I looked exactly the same. I watched him fix himself with trembling hands, and without a single second of hesitation—without letting me say a word—he stepped forward and took the hit.

His voice was steady. Controlled. Almost professional.

“He has nothing to do with this.”

The room seemed to freeze.

“It was my doing,” Aiden said. “I lured him here and coerced him into this.”

The dean’s outrage sharpened. One of the board members made a disgusted sound. Harper’s eyes closed, pained.

I moved automatically.

“No—”

But William’s voice cut over mine before the word even formed.

“Come, son.”

He didn’t touch me. Didn’t yell. Didn’t look angry.

He looked… concerned. Like a father protecting his poor, innocent boy from the big bad monster.

I took a step forward to correct him—to defend Aiden, to defend us—but Aiden suddenly shifted, blocking my path. He raised both hands slightly, like someone accepting blame, accepting arrest, accepting the noose.

And then he looked at me.

It was the look that destroyed me.

Not fear. Not shame.

A warning.

A plea.

A command.

His voice was rough, quiet, but absolute.

“Go. I’ll handle this.”

Everything inside me rebelled. I shook my head, stepping toward him again—but the sharp shake of his head stopped me. His eyes bored into mine, desperate and deliberate. He wasn’t asking; he was protecting. He was begging me not to ruin this last chance he had to shield me.

Don’t say anything.

Don’t confess.

Don’t make this worse.

Behind us, William stepped closer. I felt his hand hover—not touching me, but close enough that anyone watching would see the image of a father retrieving his shaken son.

One of the board members motioned for Aiden to walk.

“After you, Mr. Mercer,” the dean said, voice taut and cold.

Aiden lifted his chin. The perfect soldier walking toward his own execution.

He gave me one last look—anguished, commanding, full of everything we didn’t get to say.

Then he followed them out into the hallway.

I tried to go after them.

I tried to force my way through.

But William stopped me, stepping into my path with a soft, practiced voice meant for an audience.

“The boy is in shock,” he murmured to the others. “I’ll take him. He shouldn’t be anywhere near this right now.”

The dean nodded, relieved, distracted, already turning away.

“Thank you, Mr. Hart. I know he’s in good hands.”

The men moved like a unit around him, guiding him down toward one of the private offices in the administrative wing of the stadium. I heard the dean speaking urgently on the phone, summoning the director and every board member present for an emergency session. Footsteps echoed. Doors opened. Closed.

And then they disappeared with Aiden. Pulling us apart.

Just like we promised would never happen again.

The second they were out of sight, something inside me cracked.

I stumbled back against the wall, hands tangling in my hair, breath coming in harsh, uneven bursts. My whole body shook with a kind of pain I didn’t even know existed. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything. Not after we survived all these months. Not after the vows, the plans, the fucking game.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t real—

The door clicked shut behind me.

William stood between me and the world, sealing us in.

The celebration above us thundered like a mockery.

And all I could do was break.

My sobs strangled off, the grief inside me twisting—hardening—into something darker. Hot. Violent.

Rage.

My breaths came broken, but the tremor running through me wasn’t fear anymore. It was fury.

Behind me, William spoke with that calm, infuriating certainty that made the room tighten around my throat.

“I warned you, Noah…”

He took a step toward me. Slow. Intentional.

I lifted my head, vision still blurred, but every ounce of focus I had left locked onto him—the man who had just destroyed everything Aiden and I fought to protect. The hatred rose so fast it almost choked me.

“How could you?” I whispered, my voice scraping raw. “Do you think you have the right to control my life?”

I pushed off the wall, stepping toward him—just as he reached me.

The smile he wore at first was soft. Almost pitying.

Then it twisted.

And he struck me across the face so brutally that white sparks exploded behind my eyes. My body hit the wall before I could breathe. He grabbed my jersey, fisting the fabric, and slammed me harder.

“I KNOW I have every right and every way to control your fucking life—and HIS!” he roared, his breath hot against my cheek. “Did you really think you could fool me? You stupid kid. I followed every step you took from the moment your life became part of mine. I gave you everything. And you repaid me with betrayal. With lies. With humiliation.”

His fingers clamped around my chin, bruising as he forced my eyes up to his.

And for a second—for a heartbeat—I felt the instinct to apologize. To save myself. To protect Aiden. To buy time, buy mercy, buy something.

But then—

It hit me like a jolt… We had been caught. Everything was already ruined.

And William… no longer had leverage over me.

I shoved him back, anger exploding through my limbs.

“You’re wrong,” I spat. “You made a fool of yourself. Because the moment you reported us, you got nothing more on me.”

For the first time that night, he laughed.

A real laugh.

Low. Gleeful. Cruel.

“Oh, my poor, poor boy,” he said. “It is now that I have everything on you.”

He leaned in, smiling like a man who had already won.

“I’d only just started.”