The @AshwickSecrets post went live at 3:17 AM, which meant by the time I woke up, it had already been shared, screenshotted, and dissected by half the academy. My phone buzzed with notifications as I rolled over in bed, and the sheer volume of alerts made my stomach drop before I even opened the app.
The image was blurry and deliberately ambiguous—a figure that could have been me silhouetted in what looked like Alexander’s penthouse bedroom window. The photo quality was just poor enough to maintain plausible deniability while being clear enough to fuel maximum speculation. The caption was pure poison: “Late night tutoring sessions. Some education happens after hours. #PrivateLessons #PowerCouple #AshwickSecrets”
“Oh God,” Roni breathed from her bed, scrolling through her own phone. “Isab
