Chosen By My Mate's Father-in-law
Chapter 28: He Totally Loves You

Chapter 28: Chapter 28: He Totally Loves You

Clarissa’s voice cut through the hall like a knife.

The dean froze, mouth half open like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

Clarissa stepped forward, all sweet smiles as she held up a manila folder. “Everyone knows Jasmine has a learning disability,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “She used to struggle just to submit handwritten essays. And now? She’s somehow topping every department?”

Gasps rippled through the audience.

“She went from barely scraping by to perfect scores. Doesn’t that strike anyone else as strange?” She handed the folder to the dean. “There’s something in there I think you’ll find enlightening.”

My stomach dropped. I could barely feel my legs.

The dean took the folder slowly, his brows pulling together as he flipped through the first few pages. His expression grew more tense with each one.

“I’m not making this up,” Clarissa continued. “Check the timestamps. Ask IT. Her grades were average until last semester, then suddenly, she’s a genius. And funny enough, her current transcript doesn’t match the original. It’s been cleaned up. Convenient, considering her mentor, who also wrote her scholarship recommendation, has full admin access.”

“That’s a lie,” I said, my voice coming out small and shaky. “I worked for every single point.”

Clarissa tilted her head. “Did you? Because this says otherwise.” She gestured to the document in the dean’s hands. “There’s even a message thread with someone leaking exam questions. Her name’s right there.”

“That’s fake!” I gasped. “I never wrote that!”

Whispers rippled instantly.

“Do you think it’s real?”

“Maybe she really did cheat.”

“I always thought she was too quiet to be that smart.”

I scanned the room. Faces I saw every day now looked at me like I was a stranger. Phones were out. Some were already recording. Others whispered behind their hands, casting glances like I was contagious.

“That’s enough,” I said, trying to stay steady. “You’re just bitter because you didn’t win.”

Clarissa didn’t flinch. “Then maybe you can explain why your ID showed up in the system breach last semester. IT flagged your name accessing restricted files.”

That had Elliot written all over it. Only he would go this far.

I turned toward Gareth.

He stood to the side, one hand to his ear, still on the phone. His other hand was clenched, jaw set. But he wasn’t looking at me.

My heart cracked.

Did he believe her too?

Had Elliot poisoned his thoughts just like he poisoned everything else?

The dean cleared his throat and stepped forward, still scanning the folder. “Miss Hale... these are serious accusations. This evidence...”

He looked up at me. I didn’t like the look on his face, cautious and calculating.

“If you have more to submit, Miss Hale...”

“I do.” Clarissa smiled, like she’d been waiting for that moment. She handed over another batch of papers—chat logs, transcript comparisons, and a supposed anonymous complaint. At her stack of evidence, the crowd of my peers grew more restless.

“Typical sob story. Play the victim, win the prize.”

“She doesn’t deserve the award if it’s all fake.”

“No!” I said louder, trying to drown out their accusations. I felt the sting behind my eyes, but I blinked it back. I wouldn’t cry. Not in front of them. “None of that is true. It’s fake. I didn’t cheat!”

Clarissa’s smirk widened. “Then you won’t mind if they double-check.”

The dean rubbed his temple and sighed. “We’ll pause the ceremony for now. Jasmine, please come with me to my office.”

Just like that, everything unraveled. The applause from earlier felt like it belonged to another girl. I handed the mic back, hands trembling, and stepped off the stage.

~

I waited in the dean’s office, my gut churning with unease as the clock ticked on mercilessly. Was I about to be expelled? Sweat formed on my palms; how was I going to get the money to get my father out if I got kicked out? I highly doubted Gareth would want me anywhere near Michelle once I’m convicted.

Would they return the money I paid for school fees? Was I doomed to be Elliot’s dirty secret?

The dean seemed just as frantic as I am. He paced behind his desk, staring at the documents as though the information would change upon second reading.

Then, his phone rang.

He snatched it up immediately. “Yes? Hello?”

There was a pause, just long enough for my anxiety to spike again.

“Yes, of course,” the dean said quickly, straightening. “You’re certain?” Another pause. “All right. We’ll return to the hall right away.”

He ended the call and looked at me, startled but relieved.

“That was Alpha Gareth Laken,” he said. “He says he has evidence that clears your name.”

My heart skipped.

“What?” I whispered, barely able to believe it.

“He wants us back in the auditorium,” the dean said. “Now.”

I stood slowly, unsure if my legs would cooperate. “He... he has proof?”

“He said he wouldn’t make the call unless it was solid,” the dean replied, already gathering his papers. “Come on. Let’s go set the record straight.”

I followed him out the door, my stomach a mess of nerves and hope.

Gareth believed me.

The tension in the hall was suffocating. I was surprised that the projector was set up, and I glanced at Gareth, wondering what he would do. A technician scrambled to connect the system while one of Gareth’s men handed him a thick folder.

Gareth flipped it open and showed some glossy photographs, holding them just long enough for all to see before loading them into the document camera.

The screen behind the stage flickered to life, and there she was.

Clarissa, sprawled on a yacht, sunglasses perched on her head, cocktail in hand. Another image showed her laughing on the deck, timestamped to match the exact week final coursework had been submitted.

A ripple of shocked murmurs moved through the audience.

“She wasn’t in class. She wasn’t even in the country,” Gareth said, his voice cutting clear through the hall.

More images followed, chat logs, bank transfers, emails with ghostwriters. The evidence unfolded in real time, projected above them.

“She paid someone to complete her work, while she vacationed in Paris,” Gareth continued, fixing his eyes on Clarissa. “This file contains receipts, messages, and proof of identity for the people she hired.”

Clarissa’s color drained. “That’s not true—”

Gareth tilted his head slightly. “Would you like to explain the invoice? It’s under your name.”

He turned, handing the folder to the dean, who looked visibly rattled as he flipped through its contents. The screen changed again, now showing an exam hall security still, with a girl clearly not Clarissa sitting under her ID.

“How is it possible that she could take three different exams in three different locations, all within the same two hour block? We are werewolves, not time travellers,” Gareth continued icily, stifling the laughter that was threatening to emerge from the audience at his sarcastic comment.

He turned to Clarissa’s father. “Tell me. Does this girl look like your daughter?”

Clarissa’s father spluttered, but it was the dean who squinted at the image and shook his head. “Not even close. This isn’t Clarissa at all.”

Clarissa stood abruptly. “This is insane! I worked hard—”

Gareth held up another time-stamped photo. Clarissa in a bikini, cocktail in hand. “From the beach? I see no test papers here.”

Someone laughed out loud, and I watched as the same crowd of people who doubted me earlier turned their judgemental eyes on Clarissa, scrutinizing her every move and the evidence presented on the screen.

Clarissa’s father stood, flustered. “With all due respect, Alpha Gareth, this doesn’t prove Jasmine is innocent—”

Gareth’s voice dropped. “Professor Hale, I’d choose my next words very carefully.”

He stepped closer, tone colder than ice. “The same security footage that caught Clarissa also shows you entering restricted admin rooms during grading periods. I’m sure that was just... coincidence?”

The color drained from the man’s face.

“And if it’s not,” Gareth added smoothly, “I’d hate to reconsider Ashborne Pack’s endowment over something like compromised integrity.”

The dean stood frozen, clutching the file like it anchored him.

Clarissa’s father said nothing. He sank into his seat, jaw tight.

Clarissa trembled. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. The fire in her eyes was gone, replaced by fear.

And me?

I just stood there, too stunned to breathe. Gareth had torn through every lie like it was nothing.

The room wasn’t judging me anymore. They were stunned, watching and processing.

The dean finally spoke. “Given this evidence, and the seriousness of these violations...”

He looked at Clarissa and her father. “Clarissa Hale, you are expelled, effective immediately. Professor Hale, your contract is terminated. Please clear your office today.”

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