Chapter Two

The University of California campus stretched before me, vast and unfamiliar. A place that once would have been an exciting new chapter in my life now felt like a cruel contrast to everything I had lost.

I stood frozen at the entrance, gripping the strap of my worn-out bag, my pulse hammering against my ribs. Students bustled around me—laughing, chatting, carefree. They had no idea what it was like to have their entire world stolen overnight.

I had spent my childhood in luxury, shielded by the walls of Blue Sky Studios’ wealth. Now, I was here—not because of privilege, but because of a last-minute scholarship I had fought to secure. The moment Bernard threw us out, I knew college would be impossible unless I found a way to pay for it myself.

I had spent weeks filling out financial aid applications, pleading my case to the administration, digging through scholarships that didn’t require parental income verification. It hadn’t been enough.

Rent. Tuition. Books. Every single bill was piling up.

And so, I took a job.

At a small café off-campus, serving coffee to students who didn’t know me as the fallen daughter of Victor Lawson. The shifts were brutal, the pay barely enough to scrape by, but I had no choice.

I inhaled sharply, pushing down the resentment swelling in my chest. This was my life now.

I stepped onto campus.

The weight of exhaustion clung to me as I sank into a lecture hall chair, my hands still smelling faintly of coffee from my early morning shift. I had barely gotten three hours of sleep between work and studying, and now, I had to sit through a business ethics lecture. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

As the professor droned on, my mind drifted to Bernard.

I clenched my fists beneath the desk. He was out there, living the life that should have been my father’s. He had taken everything from us—and I would make sure he paid for it.

But a flicker of doubt crept in. What if I was making a mistake?

What if I wasn’t strong enough to take him down?

Would I become like him in the process—ruthless, obsessed, willing to do whatever it took?

I shook the thoughts away. No.

I wasn’t like Bernard.

But I would have to be smart, relentless, and willing to fight harder than ever before.

The classroom door swung open, and the air shifted.

I barely noticed the quiet murmurs rising around me until a pair of polished leather shoes stepped into my line of sight.

I glanced up—and froze.

The boy standing at the front of the room exuded an air of self-assurance that seemed to suck the oxygen from the space. His tailored blazer fit him perfectly, his dark hair swept back in an effortlessly stylish way that only heightened the sharp angles of his jawline. He scanned the room with a faint smirk, as if he already knew everyone would be watching him.

My stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Who’s that?” a girl whispered behind me.

“That’s William Carter,” someone else replied in an awed tone. “You know, from the Carter family. Starlight Productions?”

I stiffened at the mention of the name. Carter.

My hand tightened around my pen as the realization hit me. William Carter wasn’t just another rich boy with an inflated sense of importance. He was the heir to Starlight Productions—the company my father had refused to partner with before his death. The company that had almost certainly played a role in my family’s ruin.

He strolled in like he owned the place. His sharp blue eyes scanned the room before landing on the empty seat beside me.

And then, to my horror—he took it.

The professor cleared his throat. “Class, this is William Carter, a transfer student joining us this semester. I trust you’ll make him feel welcome.”

William inclined his head slightly, his smirk never wavering. “Looking forward to it,” he said, his voice smooth and confident.

I rolled my eyes, turning back to my notes. I wasn’t about to be charmed by someone like him.

The tension only grew as the class progressed.

I exhaled sharply, refusing to acknowledge him.

But of course, that wasn’t enough.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” he murmured.

I finally turned to him, meeting his gaze head-on. The heir to Starlight Productions—the company my father refused to work with before his death. The company that had circled like vultures around Blue Sky Studios.

And now, their golden boy was sitting beside me, acting like he didn’t carry the name of the very people I despised.

“I would,” I said flatly.

William smirked, completely unfazed. “Harsh. I just got here.”

“And yet, I already can’t stand you,” I shot back.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “I think I’m going to enjoy this class.”

I turned back to my notebook, jaw tight. I didn’t have time for distractions.

But I had a sinking feeling that William Carter wasn’t going to make that easy.

The professor introduced a debate on corporate ethics, dividing the class into groups. To my dismay, William was assigned to my group.

“It’s simple,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if he owned the room. “In business, you either adapt or you fail. Loyalty and sentimentality are liabilities.”

My jaw clenched. “That’s not true. Businesses can thrive on integrity if they’re led by people who believe in doing the right thing.”

William raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Right, because that worked out so well for Blue Sky Studios, didn’t it?”

The words hit me like a slap. my chest tightened as I forced myself to respond. “You don’t know anything about my father.”

“I know enough,” William replied calmly. “He made enemies in all the wrong places. That’s not how you survive in this world.”

My hands curled into fists beneath the table. The audacity of him, sitting there and casually dismissing my father’s legacy as if he had the right. “My father built his company on honesty and hard work,” I shot back. “He didn’t need to manipulate or exploit people to succeed. Maybe you should take notes.”

The other students shifted uncomfortably, clearly picking up on the tension, but William seemed unfazed. He leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “Honesty and hard work don’t mean much when you’re outmaneuvered. Maybe it’s time you learned that.”

Before I could respond, the professor intervened, steering the discussion back on track. But my anger simmered long after class ended.

After the class, I went to the café to resume my shift. By the time my shift at the café ended, my feet ached, my head throbbed, and I could barely keep my eyes open. The moment I stepped outside, I pulled my jacket tighter around me, the night air biting against my skin.

Aunt Marie had begged me to cut back on hours, but rent was due, and every dollar mattered.

I checked my phone. A new email from the university’s financial aid office.

I opened it with shaky hands.

“Ms. Lawson, we regret to inform you that your additional grant request has been denied.”

I exhaled, gripping the phone so tightly I thought I might c***k the screen.

I needed that money.

I had already sold Dad’s old watch, a few of Mom’s jewelry pieces—things that actually meant something to me. But none of it had been enough.

I swallowed hard, shoving my phone into my pocket. There had to be another way.

And that’s when it hit me.

Bernard had money.

My father’s money.

And maybe, just maybe… I could find a way to take it back.

By the time I got home, Aunt Marie was waiting for me, her arms crossed.

“You look exhausted,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

She studied me for a long moment. Then, softer, “Emerald, this isn’t sustainable. You can’t keep working yourself into the ground.”

I met her gaze, my voice steady. “I don’t have a choice.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Is this about tuition? Because if it is—”

“It’s about everything,” I cut in. “It’s about what Bernard took from us. What he’s still getting away with.”

Marie hesitated. “Emerald…”

“I’m not backing down,” I said firmly.

She exhaled, shaking her head. “I knew you were going to say that.”

I swallowed hard. “I need to find a way to take back what’s ours.”

Marie’s expression darkened. “And how do you plan to do that?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know exactly. Yet.

But I would figure it out.

Because one thing was certain—Bernard Lawson wasn’t going to keep winning.

Not if I had anything to do with it.

The next few weeks didn’t help. William seemed to show up everywhere—at the library, in the cafeteria, even at campus events I attended to network for internships. Each time, his presence grated on my nerves, not just because of his arrogant demeanor but because of the strange pull I felt toward him.

One evening, as I was leaving the library, I overheard a familiar voice.

“I told you I’m not doing it,” William said sharply.

I froze, ducking behind a pillar to listen.

“You don’t have a choice,” came the muffled reply, likely over the phone.

William exhaled sharply. “I’m not going to be part of another one of your schemes. If you think I’m going to clean up your messes forever, you’re wrong.”

The call ended abruptly, and William raked a hand through his hair, his usual composure slipping for the first time.

I watched him for a moment, unsure of what to make of the interaction. It was clear he was under some kind of pressure, but from what—or whom—I didn’t know.

The next encounter with William was unexpected.

I had just finished a meeting with my academic advisor when I turned a corner and nearly collided with William.

“Watch where you’re going,” I muttered, stepping back.

“Relax,” William said, his smirk returning. “No need to bite my head off.”

“Maybe you should try not being insufferable for five minutes,” I snapped, brushing past him.

But to my surprise, he followed me.

“You’ve got quite the temper, don’t you?” he remarked, falling into step beside me.

“And you’ve got quite the ego,” I shot back. “What do you want, William?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Just curious. You’re… different from the others.”

“Different how?”

“You actually believe in what you’re saying. It’s refreshing, even if you’re wrong.”

I stopped walking, turning to face him. “Why are you so determined to get under my skin?”

“Maybe because you’re the only person here who doesn’t fall for my charm,” he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, don’t get used to it. I have more important things to focus on.”

William’s expression shifted, just for a moment, to something softer. “Like what?”

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. I wasn’t about to spill my family’s secrets to someone like him, but something about his tone caught me off guard. It wasn’t mocking or dismissive—it almost sounded genuine.

“None of your business,” I said finally, turning away.

As I walked off, I couldn’t help but feel that this wasn’t the last time Our paths would cross. And for reasons I didn’t fully understand, the thought unsettled me.