Chapter 2The Villainess Who Gathers Scraps

Cole: Harper, take a look at this proof. Am I missing a variable here?

Ever since we swapped numbers, my phone buzzed every few days with Cole’s name on the screen. It was always math.

I’d stare at his screen-grabbed equations for a few minutes, let the gears in my head turn, and text back a breakdown. Try approaching it from this angle. Does this track?

A few minutes later, my screen would light up. Brilliant. That actually sparked a much cleaner shortcut. Look at this.

Seeing his elegantly restructured proof, I’d shoot back a mind-blown GIF.

Cole: By the way, I shipped that box of advanced placement study guides from New York you asked for. Should be there by Tuesday.

Harper: You're a lifesaver. Thanks!

Midterm rankings were posted the following week on the bulletin board outside the counselor’s office.

Unsurprisingly, I was sitting comfortably at rank number one. Bella hovered around rank twenty.

"Bella, you're so lucky," one of her orbiters fawned, tracing the printed list. "You literally never study and you still pull straight A-minuses."

Bella flipped her long, glossy hair over her shoulder. "Some of us are just blessed. The curriculum here is a joke. I read the textbook once and it just sticks."

"Not like some people," another girl sneered, shooting a sideways glance at me as I walked past. "Grinding away in the library 24/7 just to beat you by a few points."

"Please," Bella said, her voice dripping with haughty confidence. "If I actually tried, that number one spot would be mine in a heartbeat."

I didn't bother engaging. Time spent arguing with them was time I could spend solving another theorem.

Photographic Memory was certainly a massive crutch for Bella. It let her coast through middle school and early high school without breaking a sweat. But rote memorization had a ceiling. Once we hit advanced placement classes—where critical thinking and abstract logic outweighed simple recall—the cracks would start to show.

That night, lying in bed, I heard it again.

"Ding. The annual drop has refreshed. Please make your selection, Host."

"I’ll take Porcelain Skin," Bella commanded.

A heartbeat later, a warm, golden pulse of light—Peak Vitality—drifted through the drywall and settled into my chest. Instantly, the chronic stiffness in my shoulders from hunching over textbooks vanished. A deep, clean energy flooded my veins.

Bella had no idea. The very things she deemed useless were exactly the weapons I needed to build my empire.