The taste of power was intoxicating, and Stan was drunk on it.
He had never dared to be so bold before. Gone were the days when Selena’s iron grip on their finances left him feeling like a pauper in his own home.
But now, everything had changed. He was a millionaire, and if he wanted to spend the night with two women, who could stop him? It was just a matter of throwing around some cash, and man, did he have plenty to burn.
The two women giggled, their voices sweet and playful as they nudged him. “Oh, you’re such a tease!” they chided, even as they nestled closer to him.
Stan couldn’t believe his luck. This was easier than he’d ever imagined. His excitement soared. Money really did make the world go round. After years of playing the nice guy with Charlie, he had finally hit the jackpot.
Earlier, he had worried about what might happen if his risky plan backfired. But with two gorgeous women in his arms, all those concerns melted away.
The trio hopped into a cab and headed to a nearby hotel. Stan had never felt so alive.
The next morning, sunlight stabbed through the curtains as Stan stirred. He reached out, expecting warm bodies, but found only cold sheets. His eyes snapped open to an empty room.
They had vanished.
Stan felt a twinge of confusion, but memories of the wild night sent a thrill down his spine. He hummed a jaunty tune, lighting up a cigarette with a self-satisfied smirk.
Halfway through his smoke, a sudden thought struck him. Stan jumped up and rifled through his briefcase, only to find it empty. The contract he’d signed was gone.
Checking his bank account, he was horrified to find that the million dollars he had pocketed from yesterday’s transaction had vanished without a trace.
The color drained from Stan’s face. His legs gave out, and he crumpled to the floor. The forgotten cigarette tumbled from his fingers, burning a hole in the plush carpet.
At that moment, one thought consumed him, echoing in the hollow chambers of his mind. ‘It was over. Everything was over!
Across town, Tiffany’s first night in the dorm was a kaleidoscope of vivid dreams.
In her dream, she had a whip coiled in her hand like a serpent ready to strike.
Sandra and Kenneth cowered before her, their faces masks of terror. With each lash, Tiffany felt a surge of dark satisfaction, years of pent-up frustration finding release in every crack of the whip.
A wild laugh bubbled up from her chest, filling the dreamscape with its manic energy. This was power. This was control.
But then Richard appeared out of nowhere, gripping her hand with a fierce look in his eyes. “Who gave you the right to touch my people?” he growled, his hands reaching for her throat.
Tiffany jolted awake with a gasp, her heart still pounding like a drum in her chest.
The dream had served as a stark reminder-Richard was Kenneth’s uncle. They were family, bound by blood and loyalty. She, on the other hand, was an outsider.
Sitting up, Tiffany took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing thoughts. If she ever decided to go after Kenneth, Richard could easily turn from a potential ally into a definitive enemy.
“It’s just a dream,” she muttered to herself, running a hand through her tangled hair. “The future’s not set in stone.”
Besides, she and Richard weren’t even that close. She had been the one trying to get closer to him. If things went south, he didn’t owe her anything.
Tiffany splashed cold water on her face, willing the lingering unease to wash away with it. As the clock ticked closer to morning, she steeled herself and stepped out of her room.
Fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. At that exact moment, Kenneth emerged from his room next door.
Their eyes met for a split second before Tiffany looked away, brushing past him without a word. She could feel his gaze burning into her back as she descended the stairs.
Kenneth frowned in confusion. This wasn’t the Tiffany he remembered. The old Tiffany would have bounced around him like an excited puppy, her eyes sparkling as she called him “Kenny in that playful way of hers.
But now? She might as well have been a stranger
“Where did you go last night?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself. He had seen her sneaking out, returning in the early hours of the morning.
Tiffany didn’t even bother to turn around. “None of your business,” she shot back, her tone icy.
“You-” Kenneth started, but was interrupted by Sandra’s cheerful voice.
“Kenny! Breakfast time!” Sandra called, holding up a bag of baked goods. “I got your favorite blueberry muffins. Waited in line forever for these!”
By then, Tiffany was already out of sight. Whatever Kenneth had wanted to lips, leaving a bitter taste behind.
say died on his
Sandra had always been great at reading the room. Noticing Kenneth’s sour mood, she asked with concern. “Kenny, what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay? You look upset…”
After a moment’s hesitation, Kenneth couldn’t help but ask, “Sandra, does your sister often go out late at night?”
“Uh…” Sandra froze, immediately on guard. This was the first time Kenneth had ever asked about Tiffany. It wasn’t a good sign.
She let her eyes drop, adopting a look of frustrated concern. “Yeah,” she sighed, her voice tinged with carefully crafted disappointment. “She goes out late all the time. I’ve tried to talk her out of it, but she won’t listen. She’s always hanging out with these sketchy guys, drinking and partying. I’m worried she’ll get herself into trouble…”
The Harpers were known for their traditional values. As expected, Kenneth’s face darkened even more at her words.
“Kenny, why are you suddenly asking about this?” Sandra probed.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, but the furrow in his brow told a different story. “Just curious.”
Seeing the disgust on Kenneth’s face, Sandra hid a triumphant smile. She’d always be one step ahead.
As long as she was around, Tiffany would never get the upper hand.
***
The next few days passed quietly. When Friday rolled around, it was finally time to head home for the weekend.
As Tiffany climbed into the family car, she felt the weight of the week slowly lifting from her shoulders.
Home greeted her with the warm aroma of her mother’s cooking. Thalia had outdone herself, the dining table groaning under the weight of a veritable feast.
“There’s my girl,” Thalia said, her eyes scanning Tiffany with motherly concern. “Everything okay at school, honey? No one giving you trouble? Are you eating enough?”
Tiffany couldn’t help but smile at her mom’s fussing. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. You don’t need to worry so much.”
“That’s good,” Thalia replied, smoothing Tiffany’s hair. “Your studies are important, but don’t run yourself into the ground, okay? Take care of yourself.”
As Tiffany settled onto the couch, she felt a presence sidle up next to her. Eric, her younger brother, leaned in close to whisper in her ear, “Sis, I’ve got a tournament next week. Will you come watch?”
“Of course,” Tiffany agreed without hesitation. Then, curiosity piqued, she asked, “What kind of tournament?”
Eric’s eyes darted around the room before he answered, his voice thrumming with excitement. “A hacking tournament!”
Tiffany’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth falling open in shock. “A what?” she hissed, nearly launching off the couch.
Eric’s hand shot out, pressing her back down. “Shh! It’s top secret. Mom and Dad can’t know!”
Tiffany nodded, her mind whirling as she tried to process this new information. ‘My little brother, a hacker? When did that happen?’ she thought.
Eric, still whispering, dropped another bombshell. “Oh, and remember when Kenneth’s computer got hacked? That was me…”