The teacher droned on, moving slowly between the rows of students as they took notes. Pens scratched paper, laptops clicked, and a few students whispered quietly to one another. Finally, the bell rang.
"Okay, class," the teacher said, closing her notebook. "That will be the end of today's topic. Tomorrow, we'll start a project, and I'll explain more then." She nodded to the students and left, her heels echoing down the hallway.
Two girls immediately approached Ava.
"Hey, new girl! Want to hang out with us?" one said brightly. "I'm Monica, and this is my friend Rachel."
Rachel stepped closer, her eyes scanning Ava's outfit. "Which store did you get your accessories and shoes from? Are you studying fashion or design? I love your style."
Ava tilted her head slightly, smiling faintly. "Oh, this? I've forgotten where I bought it. I don't really check prices—as long as it's expensive, I'm fine."
The girls exchanged a glance.
Ava had picked up on their subtle probing—were they trying to figure out if she was a rich kid or an easy target?
"Super chic," Rachel murmured. "Your parents must give you a lot of allowance if you don't even check the price tag. And… wow, you really know fashion. Your outfit is amazing."
"Let's go to the cafeteria together," Monica said, gesturing toward the hallway. Ava nodded and followed, carefully packing her bag.
The hallway buzzed with activity. Lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked on polished floors, and laughter and chatter filled the air. Groups of students moved toward the cafeteria in clusters, some bumping into each other, some pushing past distractedly. The smell of warm food—spicy noodles, fried snacks, and freshly baked bread—wafted through the air, drawing them closer.
The crowd had completely blocked the doorway. Students pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, craning their necks to see over one another. Phones were raised, recording videos and taking pictures.
Some girls fanned themselves in disbelief, whispering excitedly, while boys elbowed each other, their jaws slack as they tried not to look too obvious.
At the center of it all sat Prim. He lounged in a chair with a dark jersey, casually leaning back with one arm draped behind him. His ash-brown hair, threaded with silver undertones, caught the fluorescent lights. Hazel, cat-like eyes scanned the room effortlessly, and a subtle smile tugged at his lips.
The crowd reacted instinctively. Boys whispered in awe, some swallowing hard, while girls pressed closer, trying to catch a better glimpse. A few openly giggled, pointing discreetly, and others nudged their friends, exchanging wide-eyed expressions. The cafeteria staff paused mid-step, noticing the sudden commotion.
Rachel's eyes widened. "Who is that?" she whispered, craning her neck.
Ava turned to look and froze. Prim sat at the center of a crowd, surrounded by both boys and girls, effortlessly commanding attention. He wore a sleek black-and-gold jersey, casually leaning back with one arm slung over the chair behind him. His ash-brown hair with silver undertones shimmered under the cafeteria lights, and his hazel, cat-like eyes scanned the room with calm precision. Even seated, he radiated an effortless charm.
"Oh my gosh, that boy is so gorgeous—it's almost a crime!" Rachel breathed, covering her mouth in awe.
Monica, sitting next to her, leaned closer, her eyes practically sparkling. "Damn, I want to… lick his sweat," she muttered under her breath.
Ava nearly gagged, shaking her head as she quickly pulled out her phone to text Prim.
Are you crazy? Why the crowd? Are you flirting again? she typed.
Of course not, Prim replied instantly. It's the other way around. Sis, you said get close to mom and dad, right? What better way than being popular here? I can get close to the top dogs, and you can handle mom and dad outside if there's an event, obviously dummy.
Ava blinked. But you just entered school two hours ago!
I'm born popular, Prim shot back, followed by a wink emoji. Also, I got invited to a party—guess who will be there? Mom.
Around him, the cafeteria had turned into a small spectacle. Students pressed close, craning their necks for a better view.
Boys whispered to each other, some openly staring, while girls fanned themselves in excitement, their gossip barely contained. Phones were raised everywhere, snapping pictures and recording short videos, and even some of the cafeteria staff paused to watch, unsure whether to intervene.
Some students leaned over tables, whispering to their friends, while others nudged each other, wide-eyed. "Who even is he?" a freshman murmured, while seniors exchanged knowing glances, impressed by how effortlessly Prim drew attention without even speaking.
After lunch, Ava quietly packed her things and headed back to class. The chatter of students gradually died down as they settled into their seats. The lesson passed quickly, but as the bell rang, a small piece of paper fluttered to the floor near her desk.
Curious, Ava picked it up. It was an invitation to a party. She looked around, trying to figure out who might have sent it. Her eyes met those of a group of blonde girls sitting across the room. One of them gave her a side-eye glance, a subtle smirk playing on her lips.
"Hmm… drama. Classy bully stuff," Ava muttered to herself, weighing her options. She considered tearing up the invitation—until she overheard the blonde girls talking to some boys about the party.
"…Emily's going too," one of the girls said, casually their voices carrying just enough for Ava to hear.
Ava's lips curved into a small smile. She tucked the invitation carefully into her bag, her mind already calculating her next move. Walking out of the classroom
The hotel suite was quiet—too quiet.
Soft amber lights reflected off the polished marble floor, and the faint scent of sandalwood drifted through the air. Nathan stepped inside with lazy confidence, loosening the collar of his shirt as the door shut behind him. Emily had told him to meet her here, and judging by the level of luxury, she hadn't held back.
A server appeared almost immediately, bowing slightly before pouring a glass of wine and placing it neatly in front of Nathan.
"Didn't know you'd already upgraded to treating guests like royalty," Nathan remarked, lifting the glass.
The server smiled politely and left without a word.
Moments later, the door opened again.
Emily walked in, calm and composed, dressed elegantly, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Nathan turned toward her, about to speak—when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him.
His grip loosened.
The glass clinked softly against the table as he slumped back into the chair, muscles refusing to obey.
"…You poisoned me?" Nathan asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice still annoyingly calm despite the situation.
Emily blinked at him innocently and sat down across from him. "When did I poison you? Don't accuse me just because your system is weak."
Nathan let out a low chuckle. "Stop acting. You didn't touch the food." His eyes narrowed. "The incense. Or the air freshener."
Emily smiled—slow, unapologetic.
"Smart," she said, crossing her legs. "Let's talk business."
Nathan's fingers twitched, but his limbs remained heavy. Emily leaned back slightly, her gaze sharp.
"You dragged my name through the mud. I had to step in and make Mike shut down the rumors." Her eyes cooled. "Now I owe that idiot a favor. Don't you think you should compensate me?"
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "If you want my body, you could've just asked. I'd make sure you had a memorable night."
His lips curved into a teasing smile—though he couldn't move.
Emily laughed softly. "Dirty-minded."
She stood and walked closer, placing a document on the table. "I'm not talking about sex. I want shares in your new business. I'll invest—and in return, I want a seat at the table."
She leaned down slightly, her voice calm but dangerous.
"You have two choices: yes… or yes. Decide quickly, or I'll force the issue. And that wouldn't be very nice."
Nathan studied her for a long moment, then laughed.
"…Fine. You're interesting enough." His gaze sharpened. "Saves me the trouble of finding excuses to get close to you anyway."
He paused, then added casually, "But I agree on one condition."
Emily raised an eyebrow.
"I want you as my sugar mommy."
She snorted. "You really push your luck."
Still, she picked up his hand, pressed his fingerprints onto the document, and straightened. "Fine. Entertain me."
Turning toward the door, she stopped.
"Oh—and by the way," she said over her shoulder, "the air wasn't poisoned. You were already drugged before you came in."
Nathan's eyes flickered.
"Next time," Emily added lightly, "don't let strangers touch you. You never know who's after you."
She paused, then smiled faintly.
"You'll regain control in about half an hour. See you later."
The door closed behind her.
Nathan sat alone in the silent suite, eyes dark, lips slowly curling into a dangerous smile.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
The party was already at its peak.
The manor stood on the outskirts of the city, hidden behind tall wrought-iron gates and rows of ancient cypress trees. From the outside, it looked like an old European estate—white stone walls, towering glass windows, and wide balconies glowing under warm golden lights. Music thumped from within, the bass vibrating through the ground even before anyone stepped inside.
The moment Ava entered, heat and noise rushed toward her.
Inside, the manor was transformed.
Crystal chandeliers hung above a sea of moving bodies, flashing lights cutting through drifting smoke. Students filled every corner—laughing, shouting, dancing like tomorrow didn't exist. Some were pressed together on the dance floor, lips colliding without shame. Others leaned against marble pillars, red cups in hand, whispering secrets too close to be innocent.
Servers in black vests moved smoothly through the crowd, carrying trays of drinks—champagne, neon cocktails, expensive liquor that most students could never afford on their own. Somewhere near the DJ booth, a group was shouting over a drinking game, bottles slamming onto a glass table as cheers erupted.
The DJ stood elevated on a platform, headphones around his neck, fingers flying over the console as the music shifted—deep house melting into electronic beats. Every drop sent the crowd into another frenzy.
Beyond the glass doors at the back of the manor, the backyard was even wilder.
A massive pool glowed turquoise under floating lights. People lounged at the edge with their feet in the water, others dancing barefoot on the stone tiles. Some couples disappeared into the shadows of the garden hedges, while laughter echoed from a group passing around cigarettes and vapes near the fire pits.
On a separate stage near the pool, both male and female dancers moved to the rhythm—glittering outfits, confident smiles, bodies moving just enough to make the atmosphere heavier without crossing the line.
It was excess. It was chaos. It was freedom.
And Ava stepped into it like she belonged there.
"Well, well," a familiar sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Look who actually showed up."
The blonde girl walked over, heels clicking against the polished floor. She was dressed in a tight black clubbing dress, the fabric clinging to her body with calculated precision. The neckline dipped low, paired with silver chains draped around her waist and neck. Her makeup was bold—dark eyeliner, glossy lips—and her hair was curled just enough to look effortless.
She looked expensive.
She wanted to look intimidating.
"I bet you haven't seen anything like this," the blonde continued, her lips curling upward. "No—scratch that. I bet you've never attended a party like this before in your life."
Her gaze swept over Ava from head to toe, fingers unconsciously clenching as irritation flickered in her eyes.
Because Ava didn't look out of place.
She looked devastating.