Marrying My Father's Enemy
Chapter 61: Tangled Consequences

Chapter 61: Tangled Consequences

Chapter 61: Tangled Consequences

Callian sat in the driver’s seat of his sleek black car, his hand rested heavily on the steering wheel.

It throbbed, a deep, dull ache spreading across his knuckles.

He glanced down at it—swollen, bruised, and a faint line of dried blood across his skin.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

His fingers flexed experimentally, wincing when pain shot up his arm.

He could still feel the impact of his fist meeting hard bone, the heat of anger that had driven him to swing.

It wasn’t something he usually did—he wasn’t that kind of man—but that situation had pushed him to a limit he hadn’t known existed.

He drew a slow, measured breath and adjusted the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Eira walking into the main building.

She moved briskly, her head held high, though the tension in her posture still showed her stormy emotions.

Callian’s phone buzzed on the passenger seat, snapping him back to reality.

He grabbed it, checked the screen, and swore softly before typing out a quick message.

"I’ll pick you up in a few hours," he had told her earlier, his voice steadier than he felt.

It wasn’t a request, and Eira hadn’t argued.

Yet.

Now, as he started the engine, his thoughts tangled. His hand burned like a reminder, not just of what had happened but of what was still to come.

~_____~

Inside the Classroom

Eira stepped into the lecture hall, her bag slung over one shoulder.

She was barely inside when she froze, her eyes landed on the person in the middle row.

Vanesa.

Even from a distance, she was hard to miss.

A pale plaster stretched across her forehead, conspicuous against her makeup.

Her vibrant green turtleneck sweater clashed sharply with the rest of her outfit.

It hugged her neck tightly, and Eira felt a small confusion rush through her body.

The air in the university wasn’t cold, far from it—there was a quiet hum of heaters, keeping the snow outside at bay.

Vanesa caught sight of her almost instantly, her lips curled into a smug smile.

"Well, look who decided to show up," Vanesa said, her voice carrying easily over the scattered murmurs of the class.

Eira ignored her, climbing up the steps to a seat near the back. Her focus remained fixed ahead, but she could hear the sharp clack of Vanesa’s boots trailing behind her.

"Oops!" Vanesa’s voice rang out mockingly as something struck the side of Eira’s bag.

Her books tumbled out, scattering across the floor.

Eira stopped, staring down at the mess of notebooks and pens. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t immediately bend down to pick them up.

"Oh, sorry about that," Vanesa added in a syrupy sweet voice. "So clumsy of me."

Eira straightened and turned slowly. Her eyes met Vanesa’s.

"Clumsy?" Eira said in a calm but edged voice.

Vanesa smirked. "You know, Eira, it’s impressive. You’ve managed to stay relevant despite being... well, you." She gestured vaguely at Eira’s outfit, her tone dripped like a chimpunk a little.

Eira’s gaze dropped briefly to Vanesa’s sweater, and a small amusement tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Interesting choice of attire," she said smoothly. "You expecting a snowstorm inside the lecture hall?"

Vanesa’s smirk faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, it’s called fashion, darling. You wouldn’t understand."

"Fashion that involves falling on your face?" Eira tilted her head, her eyes looked pointedly to the plaster on Vanesa’s forehead. "Looks painful."

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" A ripple of laughter came from a few nearby students.

Vanesa’s cheeks flushed pink. "You think you’re funny?" she snapped, her voice startrd rising.

She stepped closer, her finger jabbed toward Eira’s chest. "You’re pathetic. Pretending like you’re better than everyone else when you’re just a—"

"Just a what?" Eira interrupted in a sharp voice now.

She took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Go on, say it."

Vanesa blinked, clearly not expecting the pushback.

She hesitated for a beat before sneering. "You’re nothing, Eira. No one takes you seriously. Not Callian apparently after our last night? not your so-called friends, and certainly not me."

Eira’s heart twisted painfully at the mention of Callian, but she refused to let it show.

Instead, she straightened her shoulders, meeting Vanesa’s glare head-on.

"Funny," Eira said, her tone was cutting. "For someone who thinks I’m ’nothing,’ you spend an awful lot of time trying to get under my skin. What’s the matter, Vanesa? Feeling insecure?"

"Damn!"

"Ouch!"

More murmurs spread through the classroom, some students now openly watched the confrontation.

Vanesa’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t need to feel anything about you," she hissed. "But you? You should be embarrassed, standing there like you’re important. You’re just a sad, little—"

"Enough."

Eira’s voice came through the air like a whip. The confidence in her tone startled even herself.

"I’ve had enough of your games, Vanesa," she continued in a confident tone.

"You want to talk about me? Fine. You want to laugh at me? Go ahead. But if you think for one second that I’m going to let you humiliate me—"

She stepped closer, her voice turned a bit lower, "you’re sorely mistaken."

Vanesa stared at her, her expression didn’t change either.

Eira knelt slowly, picking up her scattered books and papers.

She took her time, slowly, before rising and looking Vanesa dead in the eye.

"You don’t scare me," Eira said in a clear tone. "And whatever little game you’re playing, it stops here."

Vanesa opened her mouth to retort, but the professor’s arrival cut her off.

The door at the front of the hall slammed shut, and the lecture began.

Eira walked to her seat, her head held high.

Her hands trembled slightly as she set her things down, but she refused to let the moment get to her.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Vanesa glaring at her, but Eira didn’t care. She had stood up for herself.

And for once, it felt like enough.