Clara's pulse jumped as the hand tightened around her wrist. She turned sharply, ready to snap, but the words died on her tongue.
It wasn't Elena.
It wasn't any of Elena's pathetic little sidekicks either.
Standing before her was a tall boy with an expression carved from stone. His uniform was neat, his dark hair falling carelessly over cold eyes that seemed to see right through her. He was the kind of person who didn't need to speak to command attention.
Adrian's friend.
Clara recognized him instantly. Daniel Frost — quiet, dangerous, and known as Adrian's shadow. If Adrian was the ice-cold heir, Daniel was the storm that followed.
"What—" she began, but he tugged her gently but firmly, pulling her out of the crowded hallway and into a quieter corner near the stairwell.
Her classmates' whispers followed her like buzzing bees. "Why is he talking to Clara?" … "What's going on?" … "First she humiliates Elena, now Adrian's friend?"
Elena, still red-faced from earlier, froze when she saw who it was. Her fury shifted into something sharper — jealousy, disbelief, pure rage.
Clara yanked her hand back, glaring. "Excuse you. Do I look like a ragdoll to you?"
Daniel raised an eyebrow. His eyes were unreadable, voice low and steady. "You've been making quite the scene."
Clara scoffed, folding her arms. "Scene? Please. I was just telling the truth. If people can't handle it, that's their problem."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Daniel's mouth, though it never reached his eyes. "Bold. But boldness paints targets."
Clara tilted her head, pretending to think. "And what are you, then? Adrian's… warning label?"
That earned her a soft chuckle — rare, quiet, but undeniably real. "You're not far off."
For a heartbeat, Clara felt her chest tighten. There was something unsettling about him. He wasn't mocking her, nor fawning. He was simply… watching. Judging. Like a predator curious about whether the prey would fight back or run.
Clara refused to flinch. She leaned forward instead, her voice dropping into a taunt. "If Adrian has something to say, he can tell me himself. I don't do messengers."
Daniel's gaze sharpened, but his smirk lingered. "Careful, Whitmore. Not everyone enjoys your games."
"Oh?" Clara arched a brow. "So far, I've been having a marvelous time."
The air between them was taut, electric. Clara's classmates lingered at the corner, craning their necks to see, their whispers spreading like wildfire. Elena bit her lip so hard it almost bled, her eyes blazing.
Clara could practically hear Elena's thoughts: Why him? Why Clara?
Good. Let her choke on it.
Daniel finally released her wrist fully, his hand sliding away with deliberate calm. He adjusted his cuff, his voice dropping low so only she could hear:
"Keep dancing if you want. But know this — Adrian is watching. And when he steps in… it won't be as gentle as me."
Clara's breath hitched, but she masked it with a sharp laugh. "Gentle? That was gentle? You drag girls into corners for fun, then call that gentle? You've got interesting hobbies, Frost."
Daniel's smirk deepened. "And you've got guts. Let's see how long they keep you alive."
With that, he turned and walked away, his long strides effortless, leaving Clara staring after him. The hallway buzzed louder, students whispering theories, their phones practically glowing as messages spread.
Clara's fists curled at her sides. Adrian was watching? Since when? And why did the thought send a strange thrill down her spine?
From across the hall, Elena's furious gaze seared into her, promising retaliation.
Clara lifted her chin, flashing her a slow, deliberate smile. Two enemies, one silent warning, and an unseen heir in the shadows.
This game was only getting more dangerous.