She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Alex stepped out of Tisha's office, the warmth of the late afternoon sun hitting his face.

Every step he took toward the campus café felt lighter, yet the weight of responsibility hummed beneath it.

He couldn't shake the sense that he had been entrusted with more than just gratitude... Miranda's favor was a quiet command, a challenge that demanded he live up to her expectations.

By the time he reached the café, Danny and Mike were already there, two familiar faces amid the hum of students. Danny waved, grinning, while Mike sipped a coffee, lost in his own thoughts.

"There he is," Danny said, nudging Mike. "Finally free to go, huh?"

Alex offered a tired smile. "Yeah… just came out of Tisha's office. Everything's… settled for now."

Mike looked up, eyes twinkling. "We're heading to the hospital, but I'll join later. Got something to take care of first."

Danny leaned back in his chair, smirking. "It's Lila, isn't it?"

Mike laughed, raising his coffee cup in mock salute.

"You never miss a thing." Alex chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Alright, then. Just… come back early."

Mike grinned, the tension of the day easing slightly. "I'll be there. Don't worry."

Alex smiled, watching the exchange, the tension of the day easing just a little.

***

President's Office

Pierce sat in his familiar leather chair, the weight of institutional authority still emanating from every corner of his office.

The mahogany desk gleamed under the afternoon light filtering through tall windows, law books lined the shelves in perfect order, and his diplomas hung precisely where they had for fifteen years.

Nothing had changed in this room. Nothing would change.

"They think they've removed me," he mused, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Poor, naive fools. They actually believe power lives in offices and nameplates, that authority is something handed out rather than taken."

The memory of the panel's performance made him smirk.

Acting righteous, pretending to investigate thoroughly. What magnificent theater.

They could have pressed harder, demanded real evidence, challenged the inconsistencies. But they didn't. They couldn't.

Not when the Steele Foundation's donations, the research grants, and the building named after Marcus's grandfather silently loomed over their heads.

The panel had reached exactly the outcome the university hierarchy required: visible justice that changed nothing fundamental.

Marcus received a meaningless warning, the scholarship students were vindicated in a way that cost nothing, and the institutional power structure remained perfectly intact.

"Pathetic," Pierce whispered to himself, a sneer curling his lips. "All their self-righteous posturing… yet beneath it, they're no different from me. Just too cowardly to admit it."

Each of them was circling his position like vultures, convinced removing him would open a door for their ambitions.

He leaned back, fingers steepled, completely at peace.

"It isn't so easy to remove me from this position," he said aloud, his voice calm but edged with contempt.

"To truly force me out… it would require James Blackwood himself. But that would expose how much importance he places on that boy... and it would work only in my favor."

The hearing had unfolded exactly as he'd orchestrated... every move, every reaction, every outcome falling like dominoes he'd carefully arrangement.

"There is always uncertainty in staying in this position," he admitted to himself. "Certainty is a luxury only fools chase. Preparation… that is what separates the players from the pawns."

They were so busy calculating their own advancement, that they didn't see the path they had cleared for his handpicked successor.

His thoughts drifted to Miranda, and for the first time that day, a genuine smile touched his eyes. She had been magnificent... every argument precise, every move deliberate, like a master surgeon.

"She has become everything I wanted her to be," he thought, pride mingled with an ache deep in his chest.

Today, seeing her in action, he recognized pieces of himself reflected in her... same precision, same strategic mind, the same unyielding resolve.

Pierce's expression softened as he considered the complex emotions Miranda stirred in him. He did love her... genuinely, deeply, completely.

But love, like every other force in this world, required strategic management.

Circumstances create choices, he reminded himself. Difficult ones that separate the victors from the casualties.

He'd learned long ago that the world was changing at a pace most people couldn't comprehend.

Undercurrents of power shifted constantly beneath the surface of institutional life. Technology, politics, social movements... everything was in flux, and those who couldn't adapt would be swept away.

I didn't change my principles, he justified to himself. The circumstances forced certain... accommodations. Survival isn't just personal anymore... it's systemic.

The Marcus situation had never been about the boy himself. Marcus was simply a convenient tool, a way to test and refine Miranda's abilities while maintaining the delicate balance of institutional power.

She needed to face real corruption to develop her edge, Pierce reasoned.

"I gave her that opportunity. She needed to learn how the system truly works, not how the textbooks say it should work."

The scholarship students had been collateral damage... regrettable but necessary.

Their vindication today served multiple purposes: it validated Miranda's crusade for justice while demonstrating the system's capacity for self-correction when guided by the right hands.

Pierce stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the campus where students moved between buildings, oblivious to the chess game being played above their heads.

The afternoon light caught the edges of his sharp features, but his eyes were fixed somewhere beyond the horizon, beyond the trivial bustle of their small world.

"I'm the same man you loved… the same man you admired," he whispered, voice low, almost like a confession meant only for her.

"I haven't changed, Miranda. I'm still the one who entered this profession to serve justice. But this… this world, it's not what you think."

"The rules you believed in, the order you trusted... it's only surface-deep. Beneath it, everything shifts, everything hides. People you thought simple… they wield power you don't even imagine."

He let the words hang, each one deliberate, each one a truth she wasn't yet ready to hear.

"In your eyes, maybe I've become… corrupt. Maybe you see me taking favors, bending to wealthy families, trading positions for influence."

A pang of sorrow tightened his chest, his voice low and raw. "But I know the depths of this world... the currents beneath the calm waters. I've seen what's coming, and I couldn't stay weak when everything I care about… everything we care about… was at risk."

Pierce's hand rose to touch the cool glass, feeling the weight of the city beyond.

"That's why I stepped back from you, why I made choices that look wrong… that feel wrong."

He paused, a tight ache forming in his chest, the weight of regret and love pressing down. "It tore me apart to do it… but if I faltered, if I misstepped… I couldn't risk dragging you down with me."

"You had to remain untouched, free to shine… to succeed."

His jaw tightened, pride mingling with aching longing. "You have become everything I hoped for, Miranda… everything I trained you to be. And today, seeing you stand against me… I saw myself in you. The same fire. The same resolve. The same brilliance. And my heart… it swells with love, and it breaks at the same time."

He exhaled, almost a sigh of relief and regret. "One day, you'll understand all of this. When you're sitting in this office, making the impossible choices, weighing lives and power… you'll see why I did what I did. And maybe then… you'll forgive me."

Pierce's eyes lingered on the students below for one last moment, a faint tremor in his chest.

The world was dangerous, unforgiving, and it demanded strength. And he had chosen to be strong... for himself, for her… for both of them.