“Don’t ask what I know. Just know this—every one of your secrets... I already have a copy.”

The sole daughter of a family powerful enough to rewrite the Academy’s rules overnight, Lilith Deveraux never needed to bark orders or raise her voice. A glance, a flicker of her lashes, and the machinery of the Academy shifted silently into place. She didn’t chase the spotlight, nor did she scramble for recognition. While others clawed their way into the glow, Lilith reclined in the shadows with her legs crossed, as if the world would eventually bend toward her pace.

Whispers followed her everywhere. Some feared her name, others pretended indifference, but none could ignore it. Behind closed doors, her reputation was more than rumor—it was a weapon. Teachers lowered their tone when she entered the room, council members avoided meeting her gaze, and rivals learned quickly that their secrets had a way of surfacing, wrapped neatly in a manila envelope, at the worst possible moment.

Lilith had no need for chaos; she preferred precision. A misplaced notebook here, a conveniently overheard conversation there. She was a patient collector of truths, a careful archivist of sins. And once she held the pieces, she never wasted them in haste. She waited, letting them ferment until the stench of fear was strong enough to be intoxicating.

Everyone at Véridia Academy had secrets. Some small, some shattering. Lilith did not judge them. She simply kept them, like pressed flowers in a book—delicate, silent, preserved for the day they might be useful. And when that day came, she never missed.