Chapter 3

"Arthur! What are you doing?! You are suspended! Who authorized you to set foot on this campus?!"

Chloe shrank behind Vance, clutching his blazer with trembling fingers. She sobbed so violently she could barely string a sentence together.

"Dean Vance... I-I just came to pick up my transcript... I had no idea Mr. Miller would be here..."

She trailed off, but every shuddering breath spoke louder than words ever could.

Vance’s face turned an ugly shade of plum, the veins on his forehead pulsing violently.

"Arthur Vance Miller! Have you completely lost your mind?! She is a child! Isn't it enough that you pulled that vile, animalistic crap? Now you come here to threaten her?! I’m calling the police right now! You're going to prison for this!"

I took a slow, measured breath.

Countless thoughts flashed through my mind.

Part of me wanted to blast the phone recording right in Vance’s face, to show him what this angelic little girl had actually been saying seconds ago.

But I held back.

It wasn't the right time.

From day one, Vance had unconditionally taken Chloe’s side. Not necessarily because he hated me, but because the media pressure was unbearable. He needed a scapegoat to appease the school board and the furious parents.

If I played the audio now, he’d simply dismiss it as a fake, an intimidation tactic fabricated to scare Chloe.

"Dean Vance, I ran into Chloe in the hallway and exchanged a few words. That's all." My tone remained calm.

"A few words?!" Vance pointed an accusatory finger at Chloe, who was huddled against the wall. "A few words reduced her to this state?! Arthur, do you realize how thin the ice under your feet is? You are under criminal investigation! What right do you have being here?"

"I came to collect my lesson plans and personal files. I cleared it with HR."

"Clearing it with HR gives you license to terrorize students?!"

"I didn't terrorize anyone."

"Then why the hell is she crying?!"

I didn't answer. Any answer I gave would be branded a pathetic lie in Vance’s eyes.

Chloe understood this perfectly. She leaned into it, her shoulders trembling even harder as she wept like a martyr.

"Dean Vance, please don't blame Mr. Miller... it's all my fault... it's my fault..."

She gasped for breath, her voice breaking with exquisite timing.

"I shouldn't have made such a big deal out of it... I just needed money to help a friend... I didn't mean to cost Mr. Miller his career... I regret it so much..."

It was a masterclass in manipulation.

On the surface, she was defending me. In reality, she was nailing my coffin shut.

She wasn't lying; she was just "desperate to help a friend." She didn't harbor malice; she just "didn't realize the gravity of the consequences."

Every word handed her a sympathy card while kicking me straight into the abyss.

Vance’s expression softened as he crouched down, speaking to Chloe in a paternal whisper:

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. You don't need to cover for scum like him. I’m here. No one will ever hurt you again."

He reached out, carefully helping Chloe up from the floor.

As she stood, her knees buckled slightly, playing the part of a terrified victim to perfection.

Leaning against Vance, tears still running down her cheeks, she shot a lightning-fast glance in my direction.

That single glance was drenched in smug triumph.

After steadying her, Vance turned back to me, his voice lowered to a harsh, venomous hiss.

"Arthur, I don't give a damn why you came here today. You pack your things and get off this property immediately."

I nodded slowly. "Fine. But why don't we pull the hallway security footage first? Let's see who really needs to leave."