Daniel Vance: The Unrelenting Lens
Elisa's POV: The Scrutiny
The aftermath of telling Lisa, Caleb, Leo, and Felix about Liam had left me raw, but also strangely lighter. The weight of that secret, carried for so long, felt a little less burdensome. But that fragile sense of relief was constantly threatened by the drumbeat of the Thorne Foundation scandal, and its loudest rhythm section was Daniel Vance.
I saw Daniel everywhere now. He seemed to haunt the campus newspaper office, emerging only to pounce on new leads or corner students for interviews. His messy brown hair was even more disheveled than usual, and his eyes had a fierce, almost obsessive glint. He wasn't just reporting; he was on a crusade.
One afternoon, I was trying to eat lunch in the bustling main dining hall, but my appetite waned as I overheard Daniel's loud, impassioned conversation at a nearby table. He was talking to another student, detailing his latest "findings."
"It's bigger than just some shady accounting, I'm telling you," Daniel insisted, his voice carrying easily. "We're talking about a pattern here. The way they've structured these overseas contracts… it almost looks designed to obscure things. And the 'Legacy Project'? Suddenly on indefinite hold? Too convenient. They're trying to bury something, and I'm going to dig it up."
My fork clattered against my plate. "The Legacy Project." That was what Felix's father had been yelling about. Daniel didn't know the personal cost of that "indefinite hold" for Felix, but he was certainly adding to the immense pressure. Every article he published, every question he asked, tightened the noose around the Thornes. And by extension, around my scholarship. My future.
I knew he was just doing his job, and maybe even believed he was doing the right thing by exposing corporate wrongdoing. But his relentless pursuit, his loud pronouncements, felt like they were chipping away at what little stability I had found. It was a constant, public reminder that my connection to Felix, which was slowly, cautiously, building into something more than just animosity, was also tied to a rapidly unraveling public nightmare. And Daniel Vance was making sure everyone on campus, and potentially beyond, knew every single detail.
Felix's POV: The Persistent Nuisance
Daniel Vance. The name alone made me grit my teeth. The campus paper, usually a glorified gossip rag, had become a thorn in my side, driven by this overly ambitious, self-righteous journalism student. He was like a mosquito, constantly buzzing, constantly trying to draw blood.
After the bookstore incident and Elisa's confession about Liam, my focus had been fractured. Part of me was still reeling from the raw vulnerability she'd shown, the unexpected depth of her past pain. But the larger part of me, the part ingrained since birth, was consumed by the Thorne Foundation crisis. And Vance was making it worse.
I saw him everywhere. Haunting the library, talking loudly on his phone in public spaces, trying to interview every employee, every student vaguely connected to the Foundation. He wasn't subtle. He was after a story, a big one, and he didn't care whose reputation he trampled to get it.
One afternoon, I was attempting to have a quiet, exasperated phone call with one of our legal advisors in a relatively secluded corner of the campus green. I was trying to figure out how to mitigate the damage from a particularly scathing online report that had just dropped, when Daniel Vance's voice, annoyingly clear, drifted over from a nearby bench where he was holding court with a few other students.
"They're trying to bury something, I'm telling you," Daniel announced, his voice filled with righteous indignation. "This 'Legacy Project' being suddenly put on hold? It's not a coincidence. It screams cover-up. The Thorne family isn't just about philanthropy; they're about control. And they're losing it."
My hand tightened around my phone, my knuckles going white. Control. He was right about that. My father was losing it, and Daniel Vance was fanning the flames. He was digging into every subsidiary, every overseas venture, every minor financial transaction. He didn't understand the intricate web of my family's businesses, the sheer scale of what was at stake. He just saw a headline, a chance to make a name for himself.
His relentless pursuit was a constant, irritating reminder of how exposed we were. Every article he published added fuel to the fire, making my job of containing the damage exponentially harder. He wasn't just reporting; he was actively dismantling our image, piece by painful piece. And in doing so, he was putting Elisa's scholarship, her connection to the Foundation, at risk. He might not have known it, but he was inadvertently creating more pressure for her, forcing her to be connected to this very public, very ugly mess. And I hated him for it.