And I knew he meant it. In that moment, under the arena lights, I felt it like gravity. He would burn the whole kingdom down if it meant keeping me. And maybe that was why I kissed him. Soft, slow, reverent. As if I was telling him—I see you, I want you; I’m scared as hell, but I’m still here.
His mouth moved against mine, starved and certain. And for a while, we forgot the world waiting outside the rink. Forgot our names, our duties, the minefields we would eventually have to cross.
In that box, we weren’t heirs or outcasts. We were just a boy who wanted to breathe and a girl who wanted to be enough. And for one night—we were.
But that was before.
His past touch vanished, and I jolted back into the present.
He eased back. Didn’t speak. Everything in me ached with the echo of that night—the truth he’d shared, the promise he’d never kept because I’d left.
“We’ll see who breaks first,” he whispered.
I smirked, lifting my chin. “Spoiler alert—it won’t be me.”
He dropped his hand as if I’d burned him and stepped away. Didn’t say another word. Didn’t look back. But his jaw was tight. His fists clenched. And every part of his walk away screamed one thing—this wasn’t over. Not even close.
Later, when I went to my next class, I passed Logan near the science wing. He was whispering to Elise—too close, too hushed.
The words carried:“Take care of it.”
Logan’s dark eyes caught mine, his smile all teeth and no warmth. Elise didn’t turn around.
Unease crawled down my spine for the first time since I got back. I held his stare, pretending not to flinch. But deep down, I knew—I’d miscalculated. Badly.
CHAPTER TEN
LUKE
In my locker was a piece of paper folded with surgical precision. There was one line in black ink:She shouldn’t be here. Fix it.
My jaw clenched so hard it felt like bone cracking. The handwritten note felt heavier than paper. Loaded.
I didn’t need to guess who sent it. Elise had been circling me for days—smirking, provoking, waiting for me to finally snap and drive Mila out of Blackwood for good.
But Elise didn’t give orders. Not to me. I crumpled the paper, shoved it into my pocket, and headed down the hall.
I found her exactly where I expected—leaning back against the lockers near the senior wing, French-manicured finger scrolling her phone.
“Elise.”
She looked up, smirk ready. “Luke. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I extracted the note and held it between two fingers.
Still nothing in her eyes. She scanned the paper, voice casual: “A reminder. You’ve been… distracted.”
My response was quiet, cold. “You think I need help handling Mila?”
She shrugged, stepping closer until her perfume was choking me. “You seem to.” She paused, smile slipping just enough to expose a flash of greed. “You’ve got too much on your plate. Your father. The whispers. The company. Let a little scandal hit, and everything folds.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Her tone stayed syrupy. “You forget—my dad has a front-row seat to the cleanup crew. Dunn Industries might not wear the same crest as King Enterprises, but they’re in the same bed when it matters.”
She leaned in, voice dropping to a purr. “Mila’s mom already made waves once. Disappearing only bought her time. If she starts poking around again… someone might decide she’s a risk to overlook.”
Cold crawled down my spine. “Elise,” I growled. “Pull it back. You’re digging your own grave.” I took a breath—and dropped the bomb. “Family business isn’t part of this. And you? You were a mistake—just someone I used once or twice, nothing more.” The play nice mandate from my father didn’t apply here. I drew the line at encouraging a relationship between us. There never had been one, nor would it ever happen.
