Chapter 8 The War Begins

I woke to the sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand like an angry wasp. The screen showed 247 missed calls, 892 text messages, and notifications that made my stomach drop.

Outside my dorm window, news vans crowded the street like soldiers ready for battle.

"Maya." Zoe's voice was gentle but urgent. "You need to see this."Zoe who has been busy with school and work .

She handed me her laptop, and I saw my face staring back from every major news site. The headlines were says"

"STONE HEIR CALLS BABY MAMA A LIAR"

"SHE NEEDS PROFESSIONAL HELP" -"BILLIONAIRE'S BRUTAL TAKEDOWN"

"WESTFIELD STUDENT'S PREGNANCY SCANDAL EXPLODES"

"It gets worse," Zoe said quietly, scrolling down. "Someone leaked your work schedule, your class roster, even your scholarship details. They know everything, Maya."

My blood turned to ice. Only university administrators had access to that information. Someone on the inside was feeding them details.

The comments section was a war zone. Half called me a lying gold digger who deserved whatever came next. The other half seemed to see through Alex's performance, pointing out his obvious guilt, his inability to look directly at the cameras.

"@TruthSeeker2023:Did anyone else notice he couldn't even say her name? And that fiance looked ready to murder someone.

"@miracle;Rich boy throws pregnant woman under the bus to save his inheritance. Tale as old as time.

But for every defender, three more attacked:

@RealityCheck99": Another broke college girl trying to trap a billionaire. Pathetic.

@StoneFan: Alexander Stone is a saint for not pressing charges. She should be in jail for extortion.

My phone buzzed with an unknown number. I almost ignored it, but something made me answer.

"Maya Collins?" The voice was crisp, professional.

"Yes."

"This is Margaret Chen from the Dean's office. Dean Morrison needs to see you immediately regarding the... situation. Can you come in this morning?"

The scholarship. My heart hammered against my ribs. "What time?"

"Ten o'clock. And Maya? Use the back entrance. The front is... complicated right now."

The line went dead.

"I have to go to the university," I told Zoe, pulling on jeans and a hoodie.

"I'm coming with you."

"Zoe, you don't have to"

"Yes, I do." Her voice was fierce. "You're not facing this alone."

We tried to slip out through the residence hall's emergency exit, but photographers were everywhere. Camera flashes exploded as we ran toward Zoe's car.

"Maya! Maya Collins! How long have you been sleeping with Alexander Stone?"

"Is the baby really his?"

"What do you want from the Stone family?"

I kept my head down, Zoe's hand gripping mine as we pushed through the crowd. Someone shoved a microphone in my face, and I stumbled.

"Leave her alone!" Zoe shouted, pulling me toward the car.

The drive across campus felt like crossing a battlefield. Students pointed and whispered. Some held up phones, recording my humiliation for social media. Others looked away, embarrassed to witness my downfall.

Dean Morrison's office was tucked away on the third floor of the administration building. Margaret Chen, his assistant, looked at me with something between pity and disappointment as she led me down a hallway lined with portraits of distinguished alumni.

"Miss Collins." Dean Morrison stood as I entered, but didn't offer to shake my hand. He was a thin man with silver hair and the kind of authority that came from forty years in academia. "Please, sit."

The chair felt uncomfortable

"I'm sure you know why you're here," he said, sitting down behind his big oak desk. "The university has strict rules for students on scholarships."

"I haven't broken any rules."

"Haven't you?" He opened a thick folder with my name on the front. "Clause seventeen of your scholarship says you must follow the university's moral standards and avoid any behavior that brings bad attention to the school."

The words hit me like stones. "You're threatening my scholarship because I got pregnant?"

"I'm letting you know your behavior is being reviewed." His voice was calm, almost cold. "All this media attention makes Westfield look bad. Donors are asking questions. The board is worried."

"What Alexander Stone said about me isn't true."

Dean Morrison leaned back and looked at me over his glasses. "Mr. Stone is a well known graduate and a major donor to this school. His word carries a lot of weight."

Money. Always money. Alex's family had probably written checks that built half the buildings on campus.

"I need to ask you directly, Miss Collins. Did you have sexual relations with Alexander Stone?"

Heat flooded my face. "That's not your business."

"Everything about this situation is now my business. Answer the question."

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze. "Yes. I did."

He made a note in my file. "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Is Mr. Stone the father?"

"Yes."

More notes. Each pen stroke felt like a nail in my coffin.

"Miss Collins, I'm going to give you seventy two hours to resolve this situation quietly. Retract any claims about Mr. Stone. Issue a public apology for the disruption you've caused. Make this go away."

"And if I don't?"

"Then the scholarship committee will meet to determine whether your conduct violates your agreement. I think we both know how that meeting would end."

Seventy two hours. Three days to choose between my dignity and my future.

"May I ask you something, Dean Morrison?" My voice was steadier than I felt.

"Of course."

"If I were a male student who got someone pregnant, would we be having this conversation?"

His jaw tightened. "This meeting is concluded. Seventy two hours, Miss Collins. I suggest you use them wisely."

Outside his office, my legs gave out. I slumped against the wall, Zoe catching my arm.

"What did he say?"

"They want me to publicly apologize for being assaulted by their golden boy." The words tasted bitter. "Seventy two hours to destroy myself, or they'll do it for me."

Zoe's face went white with rage. "This is insane. You can't let them do this."

"What choice do I have? Without the scholarship, I can't finish school. Without a degree, I can't support Mom and Jake. They've got me trapped."

We walked toward the parking lot in silence, my future crumbling with each step. But as we reached Zoe's car, she grabbed my arm.

"Maya, look."

A group of students had gathered near the library steps. Maybe thirty of them, holding handmade signs:

""WE BELIEVE MAYA""

"WESTFIELD STANDS WITH VICTIMS"

"RICH BOYS LIE TOO"

My throat closed with emotion. I didn't know most of them, but they were there. Fighting for me when I couldn't fight for myself.

A girl with short red hair broke away from the group and jogged toward us. I recognized her from my economics class.

"Maya! I'm Sarah . We've been organizing since this morning." She was breathless with excitement. "Students are furious about how you're being treated. We're planning a bigger demonstration for tomorrow."

"Sarah, I appreciate this, but I can't ask people to"

"You're not asking. We're volunteering." Her eyes blazed with righteous anger. "What's happening to you is happening to all of us. If they can destroy one woman for telling the truth, none of us are safe."

Behind her, more students were arriving. Word was spreading across campus. A movement was building.

My phone rang. Mom's number.

"Maya?" Her voice was thin, frightened. "Sweetheart, Jake told me what's on the news. Are you okay?"

I closed my eyes, gripping the phone. "I'm okay, Mom. I promise."

"The reporters... they keep calling the house. They want to ask me about you. About the baby." She stopped, her voice heavy and slow from the pain medicine. "Maya, is it true? Are you really pregnant?"

"Yes, Mom."

A long silence. Then, softer: "And the father? This Stone boy?"

"Yes."

"And he denied you? On television?"

The hurt in her voice broke something inside me. "Mom, I'm sorry. I never wanted this to touch you."

"Sorry?" Her voice grew stronger, more like the mother who'd raised me to fight. "Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. But that boy... that family..." She took a shaky breath. "Maya, promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't you dare let them make you disappear. Don't you dare apologize for telling the truth."

After I hung up, I stared at the growing crowd of supporters, at Zoe's fierce loyalty, at my phone filled with messages from people I'd never met saying they believed me.

"What are you thinking?" Zoe asked.

I thought about Dean Morrison's ultimatum. About Alex's cold denial. About Victoria's perfect smile as she'd claimed her territory. About my mother's dying voice telling me to fight.

"I'm thinking," I said slowly, "that maybe it's time to stop being the victim in this story."

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I'd been avoiding.

Elena Rodriguez. Channel 7 News.

She answered on the first ring.

"Elena, this is Maya Collins. Are you still interested in hearing my side of the story?"

"Maya! Yes, absolutely. When can we"

"Tonight. Eight o'clock. And Elena? I want to go live."

After I hung up, Zoe stared at me with something like . "You're really going to do this?"

I looked at the students still gathering, their signs held high, their voices growing louder. I thought about the baby growing inside me, about the truth that deserved to be heard, about the woman I needed to become.

"They want a war?" I said, my voice steady for the first time in days. "Then let's give them one."

But even as the words left my mouth, I couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere in the shadows, someone was watching. Someone who'd been feeding information to the press, who'd orchestrated this entire disaster with surgical precision.

Someone who wanted me destroyed.

The question was,who had I threatened badly enough to deserve this level of calculated revenge?

And more importantly... what would they do when they realized I wasn't going down without a fight?