Blair’s vision tunneled. Her carefully constructed composure cracked down the middle like fractured glass. Cassandra’s presence ant everything had just beco exponentially worse. Her sister specialized in making Blair feel inadequate without even trying.
"Cassie." The nickna ca out strangled. "I didn’t know you’d be here."
"Father thought I should observe your... situation. Provide guidance where needed." Cassandra settled into the chair beside Johnathan’s desk like she belonged there. Which she did. Which Blair never would. "I’ve been reviewing your performance records. Quite fascinating reading."
The patronizing tone made Blair’s skin crawl. Cassandra had perfected the art of sounding supportive while delivering surgical strikes to Blair’s confidence. Every word designed to remind Blair of the gap between them. The gap that seed to widen every year despite Blair’s desperate efforts to close it.
"Cassandra has agreed to conduct a personal investigation," Johnathan continued. "She’ll visit the academy. Observe Monroe directly. Determine what advantages he’s utilizing."
Blair’s hands clenched hard enough to leave nail marks in her palms. Her sister at the academy ant constant surveillance. Constant comparison. Cassandra would see everything Blair had tried to hide. The way Monroe affected her. The uncomfortable heat that crawled through her whenever he looked at her with those too-knowing eyes.
"That’s... unnecessary. I can handle Monroe myself."
"Can you?" Cassandra’s laugh sounded like silver bells wrapped in barbed wire. "Because your recent performance suggests otherwise. Second place, Blair. To a lottery winner." She shook her head in mock sympathy. "How mortifying."
Heat flashed through Blair’s chest. Rage mixed with humiliation mixed with sothing darker that she refused to acknowledge. Her sister’s presence always brought out the worst in her. The desperate, clawing need to prove herself worthy of the family na.
"I don’t need help."
"Pride is a luxury you can no longer afford," Johnathan said. "Cassandra will arrive tomorrow. She’ll assess Monroe’s capabilities and recomnd appropriate counterasures."
Counterasures. As if Monroe was a tactical problem requiring military intervention. Blair’s stomach twisted again, but not from nerves this ti. The thought of her father’s resources turning their attention toward Monroe made her feel sick in ways she couldn’t explain.
She didn’t want Monroe destroyed by her family’s machine. She wanted to destroy him herself. Prove her superiority through direct competition. Make him acknowledge her strength before crushing him completely.
"Let beat him first."
The words escaped before she could stop them. Johnathan’s eyebrows rose slightly. Cassandra’s smile sharpened like a blade being drawn from its sheath.
"Beat him?" Cassandra’s voice dripped amusent. "How refreshingly direct. Do you have a plan, or are you simply hoping passion will overco preparation?"
Blair’s face burned. Her sister’s question exposed the weakness in her position. She had no plan beyond wanting Monroe to lose. No strategy beyond needing to prove herself superior. Just raw desire mixed with pride and sothing uncomfortably close to obsession.
"I know his weaknesses."
"Such as?"
"He’s overconfident. Relies too heavily on physical improvent instead of technique refinent. His squad coordination is good, but it’s built on personal relationships rather than tactical doctrine."
Cassandra nodded slowly. "Interesting. And you believe these weaknesses provide exploitable opportunities?"
"Yes."
"Then prove it." Johnathan’s voice cut through their exchange. "Winter evaluations begin in six weeks. You will finish first. Above Monroe. Above everyone else. If you succeed, Cassandra’s investigation becos unnecessary."
Blair’s pulse hamred against her throat. Six weeks to prove herself. Six weeks to beat Monroe and his impossible improvent curve. Six weeks to satisfy her father’s expectations while keeping her sister’s claws out of her academy life.
"And if I don’t succeed?"
The temperature in the room seed to drop ten degrees. Johnathan’s ice-blue eyes fixed on her with the intensity of a hunter sizing up prey.
"Then we discuss alternative career paths."
The threat landed like a physical blow. Alternative career paths ant exile from the hunter world. It ant watching from the sidelines while Cassandra inherited everything Blair had spent her entire life working toward. It ant becoming nobody. Less than nobody.
Blair’s vision wavered. Her carefully maintained composure finally cracked completely, but instead of panic, rage flooded through her system like molten steel. Pure, incandescent fury at Monroe for existing. At her father for threatening her. At her sister for enjoying the spectacle.
At herself for letting a lottery nobody get under her skin so completely.
"I understand."
"Excellent." Johnathan smiled for the first ti since she’d entered his office. The expression held no warmth. "Cassandra will accompany you back to the island. She wants to tour the facilities."
Blair’s heart sank. Her sister would see everything. The academy. The students. Monroe himself. Cassandra would analyze the situation with Diamond-tier perception and surgical precision. She’d identify weaknesses Blair had missed. Opportunities Blair had overlooked.
She’d probably figure out Monroe’s secret before Blair had a chance to prove herself.
"Of course."
The eting concluded with handshakes and professional pleasantries that felt like funeral arrangents. Blair followed her sister toward the elevator on unsteady legs. Her entire world had just shifted beneath her feet, and she was still trying to find her balance.
Misato remained silent throughout the descent. Her li green eyes stayed fixed on the floor numbers, but Blair could feel judgnt radiating from her like heat. Disappointnt in Blair’s performance. Disgust at the family dynamics she’d witnessed.
The helicopter ride back to the island stretched like torture. Cassandra spent the flight reviewing files on her tablet while making occasional comnts about Blair’s "interesting" situation. Each observation felt like a scalpel cutting away another layer of Blair’s confidence.
By the ti they touched down on the academy helipad, Blair’s nerves had been stripped raw. Evening shadows stretched across the campus. Students moved between buildings in small groups, their conversations carrying across the quad like distant music.
Sowhere among them, Monroe was probably training. Pushing his impossible improvent curve even higher. Getting stronger while Blair sat in helicopters discussing her inadequacy with family mbers who’d already written her off as a disappointnt.
"Show to my quarters," Cassandra said as they disembarked. "I want to begin observations imdiately."
Blair’s hands shook as she led her sister toward the guest facilities. Six weeks to prove herself. Six weeks to beat Monroe before her father’s machine ground him into nothing.
She would win. She had to win.
Because losing ant losing everything.
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