Page 121 of The Ruthless Rivalry

Alex.

She walks down the aisle with unshakable confidence, her presence commanding the entire room. The air seems to shift around her as she moves, a ripple of energy pulsing through the atmosphere.

Her hair—once an ashy blonde—now streaked with bold, fiery strands of red, looks like embers in the wind. It mirrors the blaze that had torn through the tent yesterday, as though the fire hadleft its mark on her, too. She moves with the same relentless force, as if nothing can stand in her way.

As she strides toward the stage without hesitation, I notice the way she holds herself. There’s no fear, no uncertainty. Just…power.

Bishop is watching her, his gaze fixed on Alex since the moment she stepped into view. His sharp, calculating eyes follow her every movement as she walks toward him, and I can see the subtle tension in his shoulders again, a tightness forming around his jaw.

When she reaches the stage, it’s like the air around him shifts. He stiffens, his gaze narrowing, and in that moment, the room seems to hold its breath.

Without a word, Alex marches up to him, her steps purposeful, like she’s walking straight into the lion’s den. She stops right in front of him, her eyes thinning as she thrusts something hard into his chest—a small, rectangular object, charred at the edges, its form unmistakably familiar, but somehow altered.

I can’t tell exactly what it is, but I can feel its weight, its significance. Bishop doesn’t move, his nostrils flaring slightly—an involuntary response. There’s something about the way he reacts, the tension is thick enough to cut through the air.

He doesn’t say a word, but I can see the flicker of recognition in his eyes. Whatever this is, it means something. And whatever it means, it’s enough to rattle him, just for a second.

The way she holds it, it’s almost like it’s a weapon. A small but undeniable act of defiance.

“You wanted me front row, Bishop,” Alex says, her voice smooth and mocking, yet dripping with confidence, “but I think I’ll like this view so much better.”

Without waiting for a reaction, she turns away from him, and the object slips from her grasp, falling with a forgotten thudbetween them. Bishop doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t reach for it, doesn’t move at all. He just stands there, his jaw tight.

Alex faces the crowd now, standing straight, her expression unreadable, yet unmistakably empowered. She looks out at the students in the audience, her gaze sharp and fierce.

“I hadn’t planned on coming today,” she admits, cutting through the thick silence. “In fact, it was the furthest thing from my mind. But here I am.”

She pauses, locking eyes with Bishop. The intensity in her gaze is unmistakable. “For a large majority of my life, I used to think that playing by the rules would get me ahead. I followed the expectations, did what I was supposed to do. I kept my head down, tried to fit in. But all it did was box me in, make me feel small and quiet. And when I came to Altair, I thought refusing to comply would be the answer. I made it clear where I stand. And you know what happened? I was still boxed in, still made to feel small, still told to keep quiet.”

Her voice hardens, each word weighted with growing certainty. “I thought I had control when I refused to play your game. But what I realized is that I was wrong. Refusing to play only meant giving up my power. The truth is, by participating, I’m taking control back. Not just for me, but for everyone who’s ever been silenced.”

She turns slightly to address the room, her tone unapologetic. “I still think these games are stupid. They don’t define me, and they don’t define anyone else. But being on the Legacy team? That’s where the power lies. This is how I take it. Not by standing on the sidelines, but by standing right here, making my own decisions.”

And with that, without a single ounce of hesitation, she slams her hand down on the button, sealing her place on our cherished Legacy team. The click of the button echoes through the roomlike a declaration, a challenge thrown directly into the face of the entire auditorium.

The silence that follows is almost deafening, a heavy weight settling over everyone. Alex has just overturned everything. The room feels suspended in time, like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to happen next.

Alex doesn’t say a word as she straightens up, her gaze flicking over in our general direction before a wicked grin curls across her lips. “Teammates,” she says, her voice low and almost mocking, as if already sizing us each up. She glances at Bishop, a smug look on her face as if she’s already won the game before it’s even started.

Without another word, she turns on her heel and strides back in the exact same direction she came from, her footsteps echoing through the silence she leaves behind. The door slams shut behind her with a finality that rings louder than any applause.

The room is still. The chaos Alex has caused hangs in the air, thick with the tension of what just happened.

I glance at Sutton, catching her eye. Her expression is unreadable, but I know she feels it too, this moment isn’t about tradition anymore. Alex just snatched it from everyone in this room, leaving us all scrambling to figure out where we stand.

But there’s no time for that. Not now. Because now, all eyes are on us.

There’s only one spot left. One final pick. Bishop’s gaze shifts from Alex as she leaves, his eyes briefly lingering on her before moving to the two of us. His focus narrows, but not just his. I feel it too—every single person in the room now looks to Sutton and me. The weight of their gazes is suffocating.

This was supposed to be a formality. Two spots, one for each of us, like it’s always been planned. Told to us. This was our moment, our turn. But nothing feels the way it should. Nothing feels safe.

Sutton’s hand brushes mine, a quiet, grounding touch. We’ve known this moment would come, of course we have. But we never imagined this moment would be anything but ours. But now, that last spot? It’s not for both of us. It’s only for one.

And as we stand there, the room holding its breath, I know that whatever happens next, it won’t just change our lives. It’ll change everything.

The Story Continues...