NOAH
Marcus's Honda slid into the parking lot of Westfield Academy, and my jaw dropped before I could stop myself.
"Wow…"
He killed the engine with a low chuckle. "Welcome to the big leagues, Noah Callaghan."
Marcus killed the engine and laughed. "Told you. Welcome to Westfield Academy, bro. Population: rich kids, trust funds, and one very dangerous queen."
The campus stretched out like a damn resort. Glass buildings gleaming under the morning sun, rolling green lawns that looked manicured by robots, and students who dressed like they were walking a runway instead of going to class.
Designer everything. Watches that could pay my mom's rent for months. Shoes I wouldn't even dare touch.
My freshly ironed uniform suddenly felt cheap. The tie felt too tight. Everything about me screamed outsider.
Marcus clapped my shoulder. "Relax, Noah. You got in on scholarship. That means you're smarter than half these idiots. Just keep your head down and don't poke the beehive."
"Yeah," I muttered. "Easy for you to say. You've been here since freshman year."
We stepped out into the crisp September air. The moment my scuffed sneakers hit the pavement, I felt eyes on me. Not many—but enough to make my skin crawl.
I kept my gaze locked on the ground as we joined the stream of students heading toward the main building. Blend in. Don't trip. Don't stare.
Then the crowd shifted.
People moved aside like they were parting for royalty.
And there she was.
Seraphina Voss.
She walked through the sea of students like the entire school was her personal runway. Dark, glossy hair cascading over one shoulder. Uniform tailored to perfection—skirt short enough to break hearts, but not rules. Legs that went on forever in those sheer black tights. Red-soled heels clicking with every confident step.
Her face was flawless. Cold. Bored. Like she already knew how this year would end—with her still on top.
She didn't even look at anyone, yet everyone looked at her.
Marcus's voice dropped to a urgent whisper. "That's her. Seraphina Voss. Stay the hell away, Noah. I'm serious. She eats guys like you for breakfast and spits out the bones before lunch."
Before I could respond, a tall, built guy stepped up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist possessively and pulled her back against his chest. She turned in his hold, and he kissed her—deep, slow, shameless. Right there in front of everyone.
Phones came out. Whispers exploded.
She didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into it, like the attention only made her shine brighter.
My stomach twisted. I couldn't look away.
"Noah." Marcus yanked my arm. "Eyes front. Assembly's about to start. Let's go."
I forced myself to move, but my gaze kept drifting back.
Seraphina stood there like a goddess surrounded by her court—laughing with the hungover blonde beside her, the tall guy's arm still draped over her shoulders. Untouchable. Magnetic. Dangerous.
Stay away, I repeated in my head like a warning. She's not your world. Don't even think about it.
The assembly hall was massive, with tiered seating that could swallow a thousand students whole. Marcus and I grabbed seats near the back. Safe. Invisible. Exactly where I wanted to be.
Until they walked in.
Seraphina and her crew claimed the front row like it had their names engraved on it. The blonde girl slumped dramatically in her seat. The tall guy—probably her boyfriend—sat with lazy confidence, one arm stretched behind her. A couple of other rich-looking friends filled the rest of the row.
They looked like they owned the damn hall.
The headmaster droned on about excellence, tradition, and "the bright future ahead." Most people were half-asleep.
Then the Dean called her name.
"Miss Seraphina Voss, our top scholar, will now address the student body."
She rose gracefully and walked to the podium like she'd been born for stages. The hall quieted instantly.
When she spoke, her voice rang out—clear, smooth, and commanding.
"Good morning, Westfield."
She paused, letting the silence build, owning every second.
"Senior year. Our last chapter here. Some of us will go on to change the world. Others…" Her gaze swept the room, cool and sharp. "Will simply pretend they did. The difference? Privilege comes with responsibility. Use it wisely, or it will use you."
She delivered the lines perfectly. A few well-placed jokes earned genuine laughter. Her eyes moved across the crowd, making even the back-row kids sit up straighter.
It was polished. Rehearsed. Powerful.
When she finished, the applause thundered.
I caught myself clapping along, harder than I meant to.
Marcus leaned over, voice low. "See? Smart, beautiful, and ruthless. That combination is lethal. Don't get hypnotized, man."
I tore my eyes away from the stage and looked at him.
"I'm not interested," I said flatly.
Marcus smirked, not buying it for a second. "Sure. Keep lying to yourself. Just remember what I said—Seraphina Voss is off-limits. Touch her world and she'll burn yours to the ground."
I didn't answer.
Because even as the applause died down, I could still see her up there—confident, untouchable, glowing under the lights.
And for the first time since I stepped onto this campus…
I wasn't sure I could stay away.