Bash removed his cashmere sweater. Underneath, he wore a simple black tank top that revealed something no one expected: a roadmap of scars. Not from fights. From surgery. A long, silver line ran from his collarbone down to his ribs. Another bisected his left shoulder.

Bash’s father, , had been the first Asian-American pledge of ΣΑΠ. He lasted three days before they found him bleeding in the alley behind the house. The official story: “pledge accident.” The unofficial story: a beating so severe it cracked three ribs and ruptured his spleen.

But Sebastian Yeung was not his father. He didn’t want revenge. He wanted proof . The fraternity had covered up the assault for thirty years. The men responsible were now judges, congressmen, deans. And Bash intended to walk into their den, wear their pin, and burn the place down from the inside.

She holds out a USB drive.

“This is a fraternity, Picasso,” Jax said, gesturing to the sweat-soaked, screaming pledges doing wall-sits in the corner. “We break pretty things. You sure?”

“Is that all you’ve got?” he asked.

Later that night, Tank found Jax in the president’s study. “That kid is trouble. Kick him.”