Ella looked around the school environment as she rubbed her palm together nervously and stared at the tall buildings and students as they were going and coming, she didn't know why her father insisted on bringing her home from abroad and wanted her to keep a low profile for her safety. She recalled her conversation with him last night. "Don't you dare defy me Ella!! " His voice thundered in her ears . " Why did you bring me back? I never complained about being home schooled over there so why do I have to hide my identity.. Is it a taboo to be your daughter? " Tears rolled down her cheek. Her father's voice softened as he placed his hand on her chin and cleaned her tears, " My angel you know I will never do anything to hurt you... This is for your own good, you have been home schooled for a long time and it's time to change your environment. You barely have friends and I want you to make one.. Ok? " " Yes father"
She looked at the students who stared at her in awe and she wasn't surprised she knew her figure draw stares from people as they admired her, she was beautiful from head to toe and even the glasses she wore complemented her beauty. She looked like a treasured Diamond in the most of the students.
So here she was — *Ella Whitmore*, daughter of *Aiden Whitmore*, CEO of *Whitmore Holdings*, wearing glasses she didn't need, and a low ponytail to dim her signature flame-red curls.
A few boys nearby nudged each other. She could already feel the stares. Her figure and face always got attention — even when she didn't want it. She walked with grace, her polished shoes tapping softly on the tiled hallway.
"Who's that new girl?"
"Transfer student? From where?"
"Her skin's glowing."
Ella rolled her eyes. Same story, different country.
She stepped into the head office and was greeted by the secretary, a petite woman with short curly hair and an overwhelming perfume scent.
"You're welcome, Miss Whitmore. The principal is expecting you."
As she sat on the soft leather sofa, her gaze wandered to a trophy cabinet filled with awards. One photo stood out — a boy with messy black hair, sharp eyes, and a crooked smile holding a national debate trophy. *Jason Carter.* The name was engraved in bold.
Him again.
She had seen him on the school's website during her "forced research" with her father. Campus golden boy. Rich. Arrogant. Loved. And probably the exact kind of guy she was warned to stay away from.
Suddenly, the principal walked in. Tall, elegant, with rimless glasses. "Ah, Miss Whitmore. It's a pleasure to have you with us. I understand you're… here under a unique arrangement."
Ella nodded.
"Excellent," he continued. "We'll ensure your privacy is protected. The only people aware of your real identity are myself and your homeroom teacher. The rest… will know you as *Ella Grey*."
The name tasted foreign. Like a mask she'd have to keep on, no matter how tight it became.
She was handed her class schedule, locker number, and dorm key. Yes — she was even required to stay on campus.
Great.
As she stepped into the hallway, she bumped into someone — *hard*.
"Oh my—" she started, but the guy in front of her cut her off.