The circle of cowards had finally realised they weren't the hunters anymore.

They were the prey.

And the Dragon was coming.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Danton's eyes swept the circle, slow and deliberate, like a butcher appraising meat that had just realized it was on the chopping block.

"This isn't just about embarrassing secrets. This isn't just about things that might bruise our precious reputations. This is about evidence. Criminal evidence. Assault. Battery. Harassment. Some of what we've done... that's prison time. Real prison. Not the white-collar country club our dads would golf their way out of. Actual, genuine, getting-fucked-in-the-showers-while-your-cellmate-calls-you-princess prison."

Kyle made a small, wounded sound—like a kicked puppy that had just learned the meaning of the word "euthanasia."

"And losing a fight?" Brett laughed—bitter, humourless, the sound of a man watching his inheritance evaporate. "That's not going to be Phei's only price. That's just the opening bid. He's got leverage on all of us, and if he's smart—and apparently he's a lot fucking smarter than we gave the little charity rat credit for—he's going to milk this for everything it's worth. Every favour. Every humiliation. Every last drop of blood."

"We're fucked," Anderson said flatly, voice hollow. "We are completely, totally, irreversibly fucked in the arse. No lube. No mercy. Just raw, screaming regret."

"We might as well be dead," Zack whispered, eyes wide like he'd seen his own obituary trending. "If this gets out... if any of this gets out..."

"My dad will kill me," Kyle said, voice cracking like cheap porcelain. "Not metaphorically. Actually, kill me. He paid so much money to cover up the accident, and if it comes out that I—"

"My family will disown me," Derek cut in, face the colour of old ash. "They'll pretend I never existed. I'll be nothing. Less than nothing. Just a cautionary tale at Christmas dinner: 'Remember Derek? Poor boy thought he could outrun consequences. Pass the gravy.'"

Aiden was silent. But his expression had gone hard as granite, and something murderous flickered in his eyes. Whatever Phei had on him... it was bad. Maybe worse than the others. Maybe the kind of bad that ended with shallow graves and plausible deniability.

"So," Brett said, finally pocketing his phone with fingers that still shook, "still think I'm the only one who's fucked? Still planning to throw me to him and pretend this isn't your problem too?"

Nobody answered.

Because they were all doing the same mental arithmetic. Running through their own buried skeletons, their own oh-god-if-anyone-finds-out moments, wondering exactly how deep Phei's shovel had dug.

"What do we do?" Kyle asked, small and scared—nothing like the smug prick who'd poured drinks on Phei's head last semester and laughed while he sputtered.

Danton was quiet for a long moment.

Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

Not a nice grin. Not a reassuring grin. One that belonged on a shark that had just discovered the chum bucket was full of other sharks.

"We tell him."

The words landed like grenades.

"What?" Anderson's voice shot up an octave, cracking like a prepubescent boy's. "Tell him? About all of this? Are you insane?"

"Think about it." Danton's grin widened, eyes gleaming with manic calculation—the look of a man who'd just spotted salvation in the jaws of hell.

"Phei doesn't know about him. There's no way he could. He operates in shadows even we barely understand. Phei thinks he's got leverage on a bunch of rich kids—he doesn't realise we're all connected to something much, much bigger."

"So... what?" Zack asked slowly, voice trembling. "We just... hand Phei over?"

"Exactly." Danton started pacing again, but with energy now—predatory, excited, like a chess player who'd just seen checkmate in three moves and couldn't wait to watch the king topple. "We tell him that Phei has been blackmailing us.

"That he's become a problem. A threat to the organization. And then we let him handle it the way he handles everything."

"You think that'll work?" Kyle's voice was hopeful.

Desperate even.

"I know it'll work." Danton's grin was practically feral now. "Phei has no idea what he's stepped into. He thinks this is about schoolyard bullying and rich kid secrets. He doesn't understand that he's declared war on something much, much bigger."

He stopped pacing. Looked around the circle.

"And when he finds out some nobody charity case is trying to play in his sandbox..."

Danton didn't need to finish.

They all knew how that story ended.

With blood.

With silence.

With one less problem in Paradise.

The circle of cowards exhaled as one.

Brett watched Danton's performance from the floor, still clutching his damaged ribs like they were the last remnants of his dignity.

Inside, he scoffed.

Did Danton really think he was the only one who'd thought of this? Did he honestly believe he was playing some grand chess game that no one else could see?

Please.

Brett had considered this exact play on the rooftop—the moment Phei had laid out his demands, Brett's first thought had been: tell him. Let him handle the charity case. Problem solved. Poof. Back to brunch and blowjobs.

It was obvious. Logical. The move anyone with half a brain and a trust fund would consider.

But Brett had dismissed it almost immediately.

Because of what Phei had whispered in his ear. The thing the recording hadn't caught. The words that had made Brett's blood run cold and his certainty crumble to dust like a cookie left too close to a toddler.

He didn't know how Phei knew. Didn't understand how the charity case could possibly have that information. But the whisper had been specific. Detailed. The specific that meant Phei wasn't bluffing—he was holding a nuclear option with the pin already half-pulled.

And if Phei knew that...

Then handing him over to him might not be the slam dunk Danton thought it was.

But Brett said nothing. Let Danton have his little moment of triumph. Let the others nod along like sheep following a shepherd straight off a cliff while bleating about how safe they felt.

Because Brett had learned something on that rooftop. Something that had fundamentally shifted his understanding of the game they were all playing.

Phei wasn't the scared little charity case they knew.

He was something else entirely.

And Brett wasn't sure any of them—not Danton, not him, not anyone—was prepared for what that meant.

"So, it's settled," Danton said, clapping his hands together like he'd just solved world hunger instead of outsourcing a murder. "We tell him. We point him at Phei. And we watch the problem disappear."

Murmurs of agreement from the circle. Relief flooding faces that had been twisted with fear moments ago—like sinners who'd just been granted absolution by a priest who charged by the hour.

"Meeting adjourned." Danton's voice was smug. Satisfied. The voice of someone who thought they'd won the lottery without realising the ticket was printed on asbestos.

They filed out one by one. Quiet. Thoughtful. Relieved in that specific way that only people who'd just dodged a bullet could be relieved—completely unaware the gun was still pointed at their heads, just with a different finger on the trigger.

Brett was the last to leave. He paused at the door, looked back at Danton.

"You really think this will work?"

Danton leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, grin still plastered across his face like a bad Botox job.

"I think Phei forgot the first rule of Paradise," he said quietly. "There's always a bigger fish. Always someone who doesn't play by the rules because they make the rules."

"And he's that fish."

"He's the whole fucking ocean." Danton's voice dropped, almost reverent. "Phei just declared war on the wrong people. He's too stupid to know it yet, but he will."

Brett nodded. Said nothing about the whisper. Nothing about the cold certainty that had settled in his gut like lead.

He just left.

The locker room fell silent.

Danton stood alone under the buzzing fluorescent lights, mind racing, plans forming, the face of his pathetic step-brother floating behind his eyes like a ghost that didn't know it was dead yet.

You think you're clever, Phei. Think you've figured it out. Think your little blackmail scheme makes you powerful. But you have no fucking idea what's coming.

No idea at all.

He pushed off the lockers and headed for the door, already composing the message he'd have to send.

The one to him.

The one that would seal Phei's fate.

Enjoy your victory while it lasts, cousin. It's the last one you're ever going to get.

But as Danton walked out into the night, already rehearsing what he'd say, he didn't notice the small, bitter smile that had crossed Brett's face just before he'd left.

A smile that said: You have no idea what you're walking into either, Danton.

None of us do.

Except maybe Phei.

And that's what terrifies me most.

*****

A/N: If any of you my guys have any complain, suggestion, please let me know so we can work on it.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.