Alex's POV
*****
"And here we are," Vincent muttered when we stepped out of the black Honda we drove here in, alongside a small entourage made up of guards, assistants and my manager.
And where were we exactly?
The grand Harvard University... Which also happened to be the university Vincent and I attended once upon a time.
I folded my arms in front of my chest, my eyes landing on the large building before us. Widener Library stood tall and imposing, its wide staircases and Corinthian columns lending it an air of aloofness.
The institution was filled with students walking about their day under the afternoon sun, many of them throwing curious glances at us.
Birds chirped, pine trees had their leaves blown into the wind—the atmosphere was filled with nostalgia.
"Remind me again, Marcello. Did the production team really pick Harvard coincidentally?" I swerved my head to my manager, trying hard to ignore the whispers I picked up from onlookers.
It's been three days since my nudes got leaked at the gala. Three days since I got added to Hollywood's ever-increasing list of notable figures with Twitter debates pondering on their dick size.
Christ, thinking about that night again was triggering.
"They had their sights on this school months ago already, Mr Cross," Marcello responded to my last question before my mind could wander any further. "And yeah, you've asked that question a gazillion times already. Is there something wrong with Harvard?"
I shook my head with a bitter smile. "Oh, nothing wrong at all. This school brings back... Memories."
My eyes flicked to Vincent who had a knowing smirk beside me.
Why did I have a feeling that the bastard was behind this?
My jaw tightened but I didn't say anything as the entourage took the lead, guiding us toward the academic halls under the afternoon sun.
"Remember, we're here to address the students and spark interest in our movie." One of the assistants said with a bubbly smile, clutching her tablet to her chest.
I rolled my eyes, mumbling to myself. "Yeah, yeah... this ain't my first publicity stunt."
I could already see the headlines: Hollywood sweetheart visits former university alongside prominent Moretti heir.
Or something like that.
Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed my shoulder from my right side, causing me to gasp slightly as my mind came back to reality.
I whipped my head to Vincent walking beside me, glaring at him as he spoke curiously.
"Is someone triggered because he's remembering all the adventures we had in these prestigious school grounds?"
I flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Adventures? Or all your conquests to bully me for whatever fucking reason?"
I swatted his hand off my shoulder but then he grabbed me again, causing my heart to skip a beat.
Our entourage was still ahead of us while Vincent and I had stopped walking, his haunting golden eyes peering into mine like he wanted to unravel me.
"Don't forget what we have at stake, Cross." He finally muttered, his voice low. "There might still be enemies after us out there."
I blinked twice, once because my eyes were heavy from staring at him for so long. And then twice to comprehend whatever the fuck I just heard.
"There might still be enemies after us? Or you?" I hit his hand again, this time backing up as well. "I have no enemies, Vincent. But last I checked, the Moretti family are knee deep in the corporate world."
He listened to me... Or at least seemed like he was with the way he stared at me.
I could still notice a few distant stares from students, some even drawing out their phones to take not-so-subtle pictures.
Gods of hell, were Vincent and I in a compromising position right now?
"You have no enemies?" Vincent repeated, his lips curling into a deliberate smirk. "Interesting. Yet someone leaked your bits in the gala. I guess that was just a friend helping you source a new boyfriend after your break-up."
My face heated up with embarrassment, my fists curling beside me.
Oh, the bastard had no idea...
My jaw tightened, my nostrils flaring as I sized up the jerk.
"Get off my case, Vincent." I drew the words like a time bomb ticking. "This isn't our student days anymore. Knock off whatever games you're playing."
He tilted his head, not seeming even slightly impressed.
And then—
"You're right. This is nothing like our school days..." He smiled, taking two steps forward until he was up in my face again.
"... It's much worse," Vincent whispered, his voice sending chills running down my spine.
This time, his breath hit me, fresh with mint and cigarettes.
What a weird combo
I swallowed hard, keeping silent as he finally brushed past me, following after our entourage and leaving me standing there. Confused. Agitated. Frustrated.
The chirping of the birds and the serenity that came with an afternoon in Harvard were successfully ruined by Vincent Moretti and that annoying baritone.
"Just like old times, I guess..." I whispered under my breath, shaking my head before turning toward the team.
They'd gone far at this point, Vincent trailing behind them casually with his hands in his pocket. As if he hadn't left me here in a daze.
With a heart filled with spite, I stomped after them.
.
.
"That's all for now kids." I clasped my hands with a wide smile, a huge contrast to the mood Vincent left me in earlier. "Feel free to drop any other questions you may have on our website."
We'd actually come to the end of our discussion with the students, most of them freshmen year youngsters with an interest in acting.
They were all gathered in a large lecture hall while Vincent and I stood in front of the class. I did most of the talking—a fact made more obvious by Vincent scrolling through his phone beside me.
As soon as I finished, the class erupted with chattering, many of the students still trying to ask questions even though I specifically said otherwise.
God, I hate kids...
"That's all mister Cross and Moretti have for today." Marcello quickly stepped forward with his arms raised and a cheery smile. "We'll proceed with taking notes on..."
As Marcello addressed them, I got pulled away when Vincent suddenly clamped my elbow, forcing me to bring my eyes to him.
I was just about to curse him out when I saw the look in his eyes. A look I was instantly able to recognise.
Trouble.
"What's going on?"
"We have to go." He blurted, his eyes fleeting around. "Now. Tell Marcello to—"
Before he could finish speaking, the chaotic clamouring in the hall was torn through sharply by one sound.
BANG!
My heart skipped a beat, dread rushing through my veins like a drug.
A gunshot.