Seraphina’s POV

The moment I collided with someone and realized it was Electra, my heart skipped a beat—just like the first time we met.

Against every ounce of logic, that single, unwanted flutter in my chest brought back memories I’d tried to bury over the last few days. It was the same sensation I’d felt the first time I saw her in the dining hall, back when my world was simpler, before everything flipped upside down.

But this was different. The circumstances had changed, and so had I—or at least, I told myself I had. Yet, for a split second, I couldn’t help but notice her beauty, as painful as it was undeniable.

Her tall, confident stature, her piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through me, and her beautiful golden hair that framed her face perfectly. Those lips—God, those lips—still had the power to send my mind into places I didn’t want it to go.

Since when did I become such a pervert? Why was I already imagining getting it on with Electra, Electra of all people?

I genuinely hated myself for thinking this way. How could I still find her mesmerizing after everything? After what she’d done to me, to Yura, to Yuna, and finally to Liana? If this switch didn’t happen, I’d have been subjected to a lifetime of bullying from everyone in school who would think I was really her bitch and that I got her to hurt Liana the way she did.

She would have ruined any iota of peace I had left in school life, and for these reasons alone, I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about seeing her right now.

She was still the dangerous, deceitful, and cruel Electra I knew, and yet, for that brief moment, she was just… Electra, and I was just me.

Realizing how far my thoughts had wandered, I forced myself to snap out of it. I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, not now.

My face hardened into a practiced expression of indifference—a poker face I’d honed over the past few days, a skill I didn’t know I had in me. I wasn’t the same timid girl she had once toyed with. Not anymore.

As I looked at her, I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. It wasn’t just recognition—it was shock. Horror. It was as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, that I, standing before her, was now occupying the role she’d owned all her life.

And it was at that moment that the realization hit me: she knew. Electra knew we had switched lives, and for the first time, I saw something in her I’d never seen before: vulnerability.

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come immediately. Her blue eyes darted over me, assessing, calculating, and it was clear that she hadn’t expected this.

“What the hell,” I heard her blurt out.

A small part of me felt a twisted sense of satisfaction seeing her off balance, but I buried that feeling deep.

I couldn’t let her know that I knew. Not yet. So, I plastered on a sneer that I imagined she would have worn, summoning the cruel tone I had come to associate with her.

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” I snapped, my voice sharp as I got up and dusted myself off.

The words stung as they left my lips, not because I didn’t mean them or I felt bad for sounding harsh, but because they were a mirror of how Electra was, and deep down, I didn’t like that I had to act like her.

The shock in her eyes deepened, and I watched as she flinched, ever so slightly, at my tone. She clearly didn’t expect me to react like this.

For a moment, I thought she would call my bluff, that she would laugh in my face and tell me I couldn’t be serious.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat threatening to give me away, but she didn’t, or rather, she couldn’t. And that realization, the sheer realization that I could have her right where she had me, brought me an even bigger sense of satisfaction.

***

Dinner felt like a minefield, and I was the one who had foolishly volunteered to walk through it. I tried to focus on the food in front of me, but every time I glanced up, I could feel Electra’s eyes burning into me.

Her stare wasn’t the kind that could be dismissed as casual or even curious. It was deliberate—piercing—and it made my skin crawl. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted, and the intensity of her gaze had me regretting ever inviting her to join us.

Why had I done it? Was it some twisted sense of pity, or had I simply wanted to prove a point? Electra Vale—the once powerful, untouchable queen of the school—was now Electra Hook, stripped of her power, her title, and her identity.

She’d gone from being the queen to being a shadow of herself, sitting at my table. The satisfaction of seeing her like this was real, but so was the faint feeling of guilt that I couldn’t quite shake.

Whatever my reason, I was beginning to think this was a mistake.

Roxana was the first to break the silence. “Can you explain to me why the hell you’re staring at her like that?” she asked, her tone irritated as her fork stabbed at the food on her plate.

I felt my stomach tighten, and everyone else at the table turned their attention to Electra, waiting for her response.

I expected her to look away, maybe mumble an apology like my old self would have in her place, but then again, Electra wasn’t anything like me. She was still herself in a way—sly, cunning, and confident.

She smiled, and it wasn’t a warm or apologetic smile. It was the kind of smile that sent a chill down your spine. Casually, as if she were asking about the most basic subject, she leaned forward in my direction and asked, “Do you, by any chance, like girls?”

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