[Damien's POV]
There's a certain peace that comes from power.
Doors open before I reach them. People shut up when I walk past. My coffee stays hot, even when it's late — because someone always gets it for me. That's how things work when you're a Carter.
And then she showed up.
Cracked phone. Scuffed shoes. Attitude sharp enough to slice glass. I knew who she was before she said a word. Rosella Rivers. The scholarship girl. The only one this year. They let one in every intake to keep the PR people happy. Normally harmless.
But this one?
This one had fire.
She stood there like the world didn't owe her anything — and she was fine with that. Everyone else flinched around me. She rolled her eyes.
So yeah, I told her to move. I expected obedience. Deference. Or at least fear.
What I got instead?
Sarcasm. A full-on verbal slap to the face.
> "Didn't know it was your kingdom, Your Highness."
I swear, I almost laughed. Almost. But I had a reputation to maintain.
I stepped out of the car, all calm and collected, while my brain started doing something it never does.
Buzz. Twitch. Click.
She wasn't just confident. She was dangerous. The kind of girl who made you want to say something clever, just to keep her looking at you.
So I said something sharp. She hit back harder.
> "Personality case," she'd said.
God, I wish that hadn't stung.
Everyone around us froze. Even the air got quiet — like the school itself knew something unusual had entered its halls.
I should've ended it right there. Brushed her off. Driven away.
But I didn't. I gave her a warning — soft by my standards — and she practically smirked. Like she didn't believe in my bite.
That should've annoyed me. It did.
But deep down?
It thrilled me.
I don't lose. I don't get rattled. And I definitely don't think about people after I drive away.
But as I pulled off, watching her in the rearview mirror — chin up, eyes burning — I knew.
She wasn't scared of me.
Not yet.
And for the first time in a long time, I was curious.
---
Inside the assembly hall, I barely listened. The headmaster's speech was the same recycled garbage about "honor" and "family legacy."
I leaned back, scanning the crowd until I found her. Back row. Straight spine. Wide, defiant eyes.
She stood when her name was called, and for a second, the room held its breath.
No one clapped.
Not really surprising. These people don't cheer for outsiders. They study them. Measure them. Decide whether they're worth pretending to like.
But she didn't care. Didn't shrink.
She nodded — like a queen tolerating peasants — and sat back down.
That's when I knew this year was going to be different.
She wasn't a distraction. She was a problem. A puzzle. A storm wrapped in sarcasm and secondhand shoes.
And if I wasn't careful, she was going to turn my kingdom into chaos.
But let's be clear — this is my school.
My rules.
My throne.
And Rosella Rivers?
She might've drawn first blood, but I don't play fair.
She's in my world now.
Let's see how long she lasts.