Clara's POV
The first day of school was supposed to feel magical.
Fresh notebooks. New beginnings. Hope stitched into every breath I took.
But instead, my stomach twisted into a nervous knot as I stepped through the grand gates of Westbridge University one of the most prestigious, intimidating, painfully expensive schools in the country.Not that i cared though.
Students hurried past me in clusters, laughing, hugging, gossiping loudly about summer vacations in Dubai or yacht parties in Santorini.
Meanwhile, I clutched my second-hand textbooks to my chest and reminded myself not to faint.
"You earned this," I whispered under my breath. "You belong here."
Even if it didn't feel like it. If death hadn't been so cruel to yank my lovely family I would be in Oxford University. Oh well.
The campus was breath taking the ivy climbing ancient stone walls, sunlight spilling over perfectly trimmed lawns, and fountains that sparkled like someone had poured diamonds into them. It was the type of place where the children of CEOs and oil tycoons walked with the confidence of people who knew the world already belonged to them.
I swallowed hard.
Dad always wanted me in a school like this.
Not just wanted believed I could thrive here.
That thought alone steadied me.
I checked my map for the fifth time, trying to locate my first class: Advanced Systems Theory. The building was massive arched doors, marble floors, hallways that smelled faintly of expensive cologne.
And, of course, I was hopelessly lost.
Great.
My anxiety skyrocketed. I tried to walk faster, then slower, then faster again as panic chewed at my insides. People brushed past me, annoyed, barely sparing me a glance. Maybe I looked like a charity case, cause no one cared.
I turned a corner,the next thing was boom 💥, slammed into something solid.
My books flew. My bag nearly slipped. My breath disappeared instantly.
And then I realized…
I hadn't hit something.
I'd hit someone.
A very tall, unapologetically handsome, with his blue eyes, and very expensive-smelling someone.
I stumbled back, mortified, and looked up.
Straight into ice-blue eyes I knew far too well,who that was.
My heart stopped.
My lungs forgot how oxygen worked.
No,No,No,No way.
Not Him. Of all places why here.
The stranger from the club.
The man in the wrong restroom.
The face that haunted my dreams last night.
And judging by the slow, wicked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth,
He recognized me too.
"Watch it," he said, voice low and dangerous… then his eyes dipped deliberately to my lips, "sexy." He let out a laugh a mocking one.
My entire body lit on fire.
It was him.
The man whose presence alone had ,made my n***les hard and my p***y wet at just looking at him.
The man who looked at me like he knew every secret I tried to bury.
The man who made my dream feel so real that I woke up breathless.
But reality came crashing into me like a cold wave.
I was at school.
On my first day.
Trying to be normal.
Trying to be invisible.
And this infuriatingly gorgeous stranger was standing in front of me, arms crossed, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, looking at me like I was the one trespassing in his world.
I blinked rapidly, trying to breathe, trying to form English words.
"I—I'm sorry, I didn't see I was just—"
"Oh, I know."
He said it like a purr.
Like a taunt.
Like he enjoyed watching me panic.
He bent down slowly, deliberately to pick up my fallen books. My breath hitched as I watched him. Not because he was helping, but because the movement was predatory. Controlled. Like a lion humoring a mouse.
His fingers brushed the spine of my notebook before he handed it to me.
That brief touch burned through me.
Then his eyes snapped back up to mine. The blue in them was sharp, electric, cold.
"Next time," he murmured, stepping closer like too close ,"try not to slam into me like you own the place." Ok ??
My cheeks flamed. "I wasn't, I'm new—I didn't mean...
He raised a brow. "Obviously."
My embarrassment turned into irritation.
"Look, I apologized," I snapped more boldly than I felt. You don't have to be rude. People bump into each other all the time.
"People," he repeated, mocking.
"But I'm not just… people."
A chill slid down my spine.
Who the hell did he think he was?
Before I could reply, a group of students approached three boys and two girls, all wearing high-end clothes and smug expressions, those kind that pretend they love you because you have money.
"Alex!" one of them called. "We've been looking everywhere for you."
Alex.
Alexander.
The name clicked painfully into place.
I'd heard it whispered around campus even before classes started.
Alexander Roberts
The Alexander Robert
West bridge's golden boy.
Heir to the Robert's empire one of the wealthiest tech families on the continent.
Arrogant. Spoiled. Brilliant.
A bully wrapped in a billionaire's smile.
Exactly the type of guy I promised myself I would never interact with, let alone dream aabout.Wow
Wonderful.
He turned to his friends but kept his gaze on me, like he wanted to see how I reacted to his world colliding with mine.
One of the girls looked me up and down. "Who's that?"
"A nobody," Alexander said casually.
The words sliced through me like a razor.
My throat tightened. My chest burned. I shouldn't have cared not even a little but humiliation hits differently when the person who made your knees weak in a dream belittles you in real life.
I forced my chin up, even though my voice trembled.
"I should get to class."
He smirked, amused. "Try not to get lost again. Westbridge is… big. Would hate for you to end up in the wrong restroom again. All his friends laughed, obviously he told them
My jaw dropped.
He remembered.
He remembered that night.
My face went hot. My body went rigid. My heart threatened to climb out of my chest.
His friends laughed under their breath, not understanding the deeper meaning behind his words but I did. And he knew I did.
Alexander brushed past me, his shoulder intentionally grazing mine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
I exhaled shakily after he walked away, knees wobbling.
Why did it feel like he had taken the air with him?
I pressed my palm against my racing heart.
I shouldn't care.
I shouldn't think about him.
I shouldn't let a stranger even a dangerously attractive one shake me. I am Clara Langford.
But I couldn't lie to myself.
I felt something.
A spark.
A warning.
A collision that rattled my bones.
And the worst part?
His look cold, hungry, and I know he felt something too.
Not something sweet.
Not something safe.
Something darker.
Something sharper.
Something that could ruin me if I let it.
As I hurried to class, still shaken, I whispered to myself:
"No distractions, Clara. No love. No entanglements. You promised."
But it didn't matter.
Because when I reached my classroom door and pushed it open the door.
Alexander Robert was already inside.
Feet up on a desk close to his and it was the only seat because I joined the class late.
His Arms crossed.
Smirk carved into his perfect, infuriating face.
And he looked directly at me.
Like he had been waiting.
And in that moment, as his eyes locked with mine, I realized something horrifying:
This wasn't an accident.
This wasn't coincidence.