Chapter One
Genevieve "Evie" Grayson:
If there was one thing I'd learned in my twenty-one years of existence, it was this—attention was dangerous.
At Westbridge University, attention could make or break you. It could turn you into a campus legend or reduce you to gossip fodder overnight. And I had spent three years doing everything in my power to avoid it.
I wasn't shy. I wasn't antisocial. I simply preferred peace.
Senior year was supposed to reward that choice.
Westbridge was massive—wide hallways, tall glass windows, ivy crawling up old brick walls like the university itself was alive. It looked prestigious, expensive, and intimidating, which suited most of the students just fine. People here liked being intimidating. They liked being known.
I didn't.
Most days, I dressed comfortably—jeans, sneakers, oversized sweaters that didn't draw attention to anything in particular. I showed up to classes early, took neat notes, and left without lingering. Professors knew my face, not my personality. Students recognized me as that girl who's always with Aurora.
Aurora Davison was impossible to miss.
She walked like she owned every hallway she stepped into, her laugh loud and unrestrained, her opinions even louder.
Where I carefully chose my words, Aurora threw hers into the world like fireworks. Somehow, she still managed to be kind, loyal, and fiercely protective—especially of me.
"You overthink too much, Evie," she liked to say. "Life's happening whether you plan for it or not."
Maybe she was right.
We were both seniors, both twenty-one, both counting down the days to graduation like it was a lifeline. Late nights studying, stress over final projects, whispered worries about the future—we shared it all. She wanted excitement, stories worth telling. I wanted stability, a job, a life that didn't revolve around drama.
Westbridge didn't care what I wanted.
Because Westbridge had Ashton Sage.
I'd known his name long before I ever saw his face clearly.
Everyone did.
Ashton Sage was spoken about in lowered voices and exaggerated whispers. He was danger wrapped in charm, confidence dripping from every careless movement. The kind of guy administrators tolerated and professors are simply tired of. The kind of guy rules bent for.
Nobody ever said exactly what he'd done—just that he'd done enough.
I'd seen him around campus, of course. It was impossible not to. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, always looking like he was bored with the world. He carried himself like consequences didn't apply to him, like he'd never had to apologize and never planned to.
And he was never alone.
Theo walked beside him like a shadow, eyes sharp and calculating.
Cillian smiled too easily, mischief written into every expression.
Nathan stayed quiet, his presence heavy, like a warning rather than a threat.
They were a unit. Untouchable. Unapproachable.
I had no reason to be anywhere near them—and every reason not to be.
Or so I thought.
It was a regular afternoon when everything started going wrong.
Aurora and I were heading down the main hallway after a lecture, talking about an upcoming presentation we were both dreading. The halls were crowded, students rushing to classes, laughter echoing off lockers, footsteps overlapping into a constant hum of noise.
I remember thinking how normal everything felt.
That was probably my first mistake.
I don't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe it was the way someone bumped into Aurora too hard. Maybe it was the laugh that followed. Maybe it was the casual arrogance in his voice.
All I know is that Ashton Sage was suddenly in front of us.
Too close.
His attention wasn't on me—not at first. It was on Aurora. On the space she occupied. On the fact that she didn't immediately move aside. He looked like she had done something bad to him.
Something sharp twisted in my chest with the way he stared at my best friend.
It wasn't new, Aurora did something to him and he's not willing to let it go.
Aurora's shoulders stiffened. I felt it before I saw it. She'd always been brave, but I knew the moment she realized who she was facing. Again.
I should've pulled her back.
I should've stayed quiet like always.
I should've done what I always did—nothing.
But something inside me snapped.
Maybe it was three years of swallowing words.
Maybe it was fear disguising itself as courage.
Maybe it was instinct.
Before I could think—before I could breathe—my hand moved.
The slap rang through the hallway, loud and unmistakable.
Time froze.
The sound echoed off the walls, conversations dying mid-sentence, footsteps halting, eyes turning toward us in collective disbelief. My palm burned. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
My body had acted before my mind could catch up.
What did I just do?
Whispers broke out immediately, shock rippling through the crowd. Faces turned, phones lifted, disbelief etched into every expression. I could feel it—the weight of attention crashing down on me all at once.
Aurora stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
"What have you done?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
That was when it hit me, I had just slapped Ashton Sage.
I braced myself for anger. For shouting. For retaliation.
It didn't come.
Ashton didn't move.
He didn't touch his face. He didn't raise his voice. He just looked at me—slowly, deliberately—like I was something unexpected that had wandered into his world.
His eyes were dark, unreadable.
Behind him, Theo went still.
Cillian's smile faded.
Nathan's gaze sharpened.
And in that terrifying silence, I realized something far worse than punishment awaited me.
I hadn't embarrassed him.
I'd made him notice me.
And just like that, the spotlight I'd avoided for three years found me—uninvited, unforgiving, and impossible to escape.