I barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the black car.
The warning message replayed in my head over and over again.
If you sit beside Lucas Blackwood tomorrow… you'll regret it.
Morning came too fast.
I stood in front of the mirror, my uniform neatly pressed, my hands shaking as I buttoned my shirt.
I thought about staying home.
I thought about asking to change seats.
But something deep inside me refused.
I wasn't going to be chased away by fear.
The school gates felt heavier than usual.
I sensed it before I saw it.
The black car.
Parked across the street.
Engine running.
Windows tinted.
My breath caught.
I slowed my steps, my heart pounding violently.
"Hey."
A hand touched my shoulder.
I spun around, gasping.
Lucas.
He stood behind me, his expression sharp and alert.
"You shouldn't be walking alone," he said.
My mouth went dry. "Is that your car?"
"No," he replied immediately.
That scared me more than if it was.
He followed my gaze, then his jaw tightened.
"Did you get a message last night?" he asked.
I hesitated.
He already knew.
"Yes," I whispered.
His fists clenched. "What did it say?"
"That I should stay away from you."
He swore under his breath.
Without another word, he stepped in front of me.
"Stay behind me," he said firmly.
"Lucas—"
"Now."
A group of men stepped out of the car.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Lucas didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't step back.
One of the men smiled coldly. "Morning, Blackwood."
My blood turned to ice.
"You're not supposed to be here," Lucas replied calmly.
"Relax," the man said. "We're just… checking something."
Lucas glanced back at me briefly.
His voice softened. "Don't be scared."
It was the first gentle thing he'd ever said to me.
Then his gaze hardened again.
"She has nothing to do with this," he said.
The man's eyes flicked to me. "She does now."
Lucas stepped closer to them, lowering his voice.
"If you touch her," he said quietly, "my father will hear about it."
The smile disappeared instantly.
The men exchanged looks.
Then, without another word, they returned to the car and drove away.
I realized I'd been holding my breath the entire time.
When it was over, my legs gave out.
Lucas caught me before I hit the ground.
His arms were strong.
Warm.
Safe.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
I nodded, still shaking.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
I was aware of everything — his heartbeat, his scent, the way his grip tightened slightly like he was afraid to let go.
Slowly, he released me.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He looked uncomfortable.
"I didn't do it for you," he said.
But his eyes said otherwise.
We walked into school together.
Side by side.
Everyone noticed.
Whispers exploded like wildfire.
But for once, I didn't care.
In the classroom, I paused by my seat.
Lucas hesitated.
Then, slowly, he pulled out the chair beside him.
An invitation.
I sat.
The class began, but neither of us paid attention.
"Why did they come?" I asked quietly.
Lucas stared straight ahead.
"My family," he said, "isn't just rich."
I swallowed. "Then what are they?"
He turned to me, his expression unreadable.
"Dangerous."
The bell rang.
Students rushed out, but we stayed seated.
For the first time, the silence between us wasn't hostile.
It was fragile.
Almost peaceful.
"You should stay away from me," he said quietly.
"I tried," I replied. "You didn't make it easy."
A small smile touched his lips.
It was gone just as quickly.
"If you're going to sit here," he said, "you do exactly what I say."
I raised an eyebrow. "Bossy."
"For your safety."
Our eyes met.
Something shifted.
Something dangerous.
Something real.
That evening, another message came.
Unknown Number
Protection has a price.
My phone slipped from my hand.
At the same time, a new message appeared.
Lucas:
They won't stop. Stay close to me.
I looked up.
Lucas was standing across the street.
Watching my house.