As he stepped into the hallway and headed straight for the exit, familiar voices stopped him.
Josh and Morgan stood near the stairs.
James didn't slow for his father. Not even a glance.
Instead, he walked straight to Morgan, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead.
"Goodbye, Moon."
Morgan smiled, warmth flickering briefly in her tired eyes.
James turned and walked out.
Downstairs, two men in black suits stood waiting beside the car.
James stopped short.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered.
Of course. His father.
He slid into the back seat as his driver pulled away, the guards following closely behind. James leaned his head back, jaw clenched, irritation simmering beneath his calm exterior.
By the time they arrived at school, the attention had already begun.
Whispers rippled across the campus the moment James stepped out of the car.
Three girls stood near the entrance, pretending not to stare.
"Is that him?" the first girl whispered, clutching her bag tighter.
"James Morgan," the second breathed. "He looks even better up close."
"I swear, if he looked at me once, I'd pass out," the third giggled. "I'd totally date him."
"He wouldn't even notice us," the first sighed. "Guys like him only go for perfection."
James walked past them without slowing, expression unreadable, completely used to the attention.
Then Emily appeared.
She slipped her hand into his like it belonged there, fingers lacing confidently with his.
Instant silence.
Edward, standing near the lockers, nearly dropped his phone.
"What the hell?" he whispered. "Isn't that Emily? The hottest girl in school?"
Daniel's eyes widened. "No one's ever dated her. How the hell did he pull that off?"
Edward shook his head slowly. "James is really something… isn't he?"
Within minutes, rumors spread like wildfire.
James Morgan and Emily—together.
At lunchtime, Emily sat with her friends, Kiara and Grey, glowing beneath the attention.
"I still can't believe you're dating him," Grey said, eyes wide. "You know he just broke up with someone, right? And not just anyone—he's a total player. A selfish brat."
Emily waved her hand dismissively. "I don't care. Look at me." She smiled confidently. "I'm the hottest girl here. No one breaks the hottest girl's heart."
Kiara laughed. "Honestly, if I had the chance, I'd date him too. I've had a crush on him since freshman year." She leaned closer. "But how did you even meet? You're not in the same department."
Emily smirked. "I added him online. I met him a month ago while shopping. That company everyone talks about? Turns out it's his mom's." She shrugged. "I liked him from that moment. I don't care if he's a player. He'll never play me."
Grey chuckled. "Because you're a ten. Yeah, we know."
Kiara glanced across the cafeteria. "Look at those new freshmen."
Grey nodded. "They're cute. Especially that guy—he's really handsome."
Emily scoffed. "Not as handsome as James."
"Correct," all three said at the same time, laughing.
Kiara smiled, though something uneasy stirred in her chest. Every girl thinks she'll be the one to change him, she said.
Not everyone, Grey thought quietly, remembering how Kiara had been staring at James's photo just last night.
Suddenly, Kiara stiffened. "James is coming."
Both Kiara and Grey straightened immediately, smoothing their clothes, fixing their hair.
Emily noticed—and smirked.
James stopped in front of their table, effortless as ever.
"Hello, ladies."
Emily tugged his arm lightly. "Don't greet them."
James smiled lazily. "Oh. I'm sorry, angel. Don't be mad."
Grey's face flushed instantly.
"Want to hang out after class?" James asked casually.
Emily grinned. "Are you kidding? Of course I do."
As they stood to leave, someone brushed past James.
The scent hit him first.
Clean. Deep. Unforgettable.
He turned instinctively.
A girl was walking away—long, black, silky hair flowing down her back, her steps unhurried, unbothered.
James stared longer than he meant to.
Emily noticed immediately.
She tightened her grip on his hand, nails pressing into his skin. "James."
He blinked, snapping out of it.
"Yeah," he said, forcing a smile.
But even as they walked away, the scent lingered.
And for reasons James couldn't explain, it stayed with him long after she was gone.
For one week, they were everywhere together. Parties. Late-night drives. Laughter that echoed too loudly. To Emily, it felt like something real, something special. To James, it was already growing dull.
Freshers' Night marked the end.
The hotel room was quiet afterward, lit only by the faint glow of city lights bleeding through the curtains. James moved around the room calmly, slipping into his clothes with practiced ease.
Emily sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the sheets, watching him. She reached out and clung to his arm, afraid of the distance forming between them.
"James," she said softly, "do you know that I love you?"
He stopped.
Just for a second.
Then he laughed.
"Love?" he repeated slowly, turning toward her. "What is that?"
A smirk curved his lips, sharp and careless.
"You've gotten ahead of yourself," he said. "Do you even hear what you're saying?"
Emily frowned, confusion creeping in. "What do you mean? I love you… and you love me. Why are you smiling like that?"
James stepped closer. His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"You're out of your mind," he said calmly. "Do you really think someone like you would ever find something called true love?" He scoffed. "Do you honestly believe love exists at all?"
Her breath hitched.
"You know how easy you were?" he continued, voice almost amused. "How long did it take again? A week. One fucking week." He laughed. "You were ready to jump into my arms on the first date. If I'd said yes then, this whole thing wouldn't have lasted a day."
Emily's eyes widened. "What are you saying…? You used me."
"No," James replied lightly. "We used each other." He adjusted his sleeve. "Though I'll admit—you're the first person I ever spent millions on."
Her face drained of color.
"I heard you telling people I couldn't break your heart because you're a 'ten.'" His gaze swept over her with cold judgment. "Go look in the mirror. You were a ten back in freshman year. Now?" He tilted his head. "That ten is fading. You're a two."
She trembled.
"I regret dating you," he went on casually. "Your body, your confidence—everything about you feels… worn out. Disgusting."
Emily stared at him in disbelief, the words crushing her chest.
James sighed, bored now. "Anyway, you can sleep here if you want. I paid already. I even called your friends." He grabbed his phone. "Order anything. It's on me."
He walked to the door.
"Let's not see each other again," he said over his shoulder. "Bye. For good."
The door opened just as Emily's friends rushed in.
Emily swayed—and collapsed.
James didn't turn back.
He walked down the hallway, his phone buzzing in his pocket. A message from his friends lit up the screen.
Freshers' Night. Where are you?
James scoffed, sliding his hands into his pockets as he stepped outside.
He breathed out slowly.
"This is so good," he murmured with satisfaction.