3-THE KISS.

LUCIEN'S POINT OF VIEW.

The engine purred beneath me like a beast restrained, its growl low and threatening as I leaned back against the leather seat of my Lamborghini. The early morning sun filtered through the tinted windshield, casting gold across the sleek black dash. But I wasn’t watching the road.

I was watching her.

Sloane.

Curvy, scowling, stubborn Sloane—marching up the sidewalk like she was daring the universe to touch her. Her books clutched to her chest. Her yellow-dyed hair caught the light like fire. She didn’t know I’d been parked on this street for ten minutes.

Correction: She didn’t know I’d been watching her every morning since the bet.

Scratch that, every morning since she walked through the halls of Ravenscroft High.

But today wasn’t just any morning.

Today, we arrived.

I rolled the window down slowly.

“Sloane,” I called out.

She stopped like someone had yanked her spine back. Her eyes locked onto mine with the precision of a sniper’s aim, her eyes wide in shock and surprise.

“What the hell!?” She exclaims.

I smirked. “Get in.”

She didn’t move. “Are you stalking me now?” She asks, looking around, perhaps to make sure no one sees her with me.

I'd understand, after all, there's a five-million-dollar car on the road in a lower-class neighbourhood.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I lied easily. “I figured you’d walk. And I didn’t want my girlfriend showing up to school alone.”

“Fake girlfriend,” she corrected, hugging her books tighter, her eyes lighting behind her thin glasses.

Feisty, I like it.

“Details.” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “Now get in.”

She folded her arms. “No.”

I leaned over, pushed the passenger door open with one casual hand. “Don’t make me get out and carry you in. That’d be very dramatic. And you know I don’t mind an audience.” My smirk must have convinced her, because she bites her lip in frustration as she says;

“You’re insane.”

I smiled, slow and sharp. “And yet, you agreed to date me.”

She hesitated. The war in her eyes flickered, and I saw it--he exact moment she caved. Studying her body language works well for me; there's almost nothing I don't know about her.

Sloane yanked open the door and slid into the car like she hated every second of it. She slammed it shut, throwing me a death glare. “You drive like a serial killer, don’t you?”

“Worse,” I said, shifting gears. “I drive like a man with no fear.”

Call it pride, call it foolishness, but I do whatever the fuck I want. No sane officer would stop me.

The car roared to life, and we peeled away from the curb, driving off into the street.

“Why are you here?” she asked after a beat, her wild eyes searching all over me.

I didn’t look at her. “We’re making a scene today. Might as well start with the entrance.”

She snorted. “What, you want to roll up like a movie villain and parade your ‘charity case’ around?”

I glanced at her, jaw tight. “Don’t ever call yourself that again.”

Roxanne gave her the nickname, and the second it came out of her botox-filled lips, I hated it.

She blinked.

“I don’t do pity,” I added. “I do power plays. And this—” I reached across the console, took her hand in mine. She tensed. I didn’t let go. “—This is checkmate.”

“You’re such a bastard,” she muttered, staring at our hands.

I leaned in just enough to breathe against her ear. “Touch me again like that and I’ll make you scream my name loud enough for her to lose sleep.”

She jerked her hand back, but not before her fingers curled just slightly around mine.

Cute.

The school came into view, its polished gates looming ahead. Already, students gathered at the front.

Gossiping, laughing, existing in their perfect little worlds.

I pulled into the front loop like I owned the damn building. (Technically, my father did. But we don’t brag.)

True wealth speaks for itself, and one thing Eldric taught me is to never speak before my money does.

Power is silent, Lucien. Don't speak, let power do the talking.

Sloane shifted beside me. “You plan to hold my hand the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Even in front of—” Her already large eyes grow even wider at the thought of us in front of Roxanne and Matt.

Cute.

That word again...what's wrong with me?

“Especially in front of them.”

She groaned. “You’re evil.”

That sounded like a compliment.

“And you’re mine today. Don’t forget that, scholarship girl.”

I stepped out, walked to her side, and opened the door like we were arriving at a red carpet event. 

All of a sudden, the crowd of aimless students pauses, and everyone suddenly turns to the object of interest.

Us.

Phones suddenly fly out, ready to take pictures and videos for the school blog, school gossip channels, and social media, as everyone begins to whisper in their groups.

'Who is Ravenscroft with?'

Sloane stood slowly, clutching her books again like armour. I

Clenching my jaw, I took them from her immediately. To make this work, she has to be as strong as possible.

No shrinking, no turning back, just pure revenge, and being a nerd wouldn't cut it.

. She froze the moment her books left her arms, almost turning as I dropped them onto the seat of my car, but I whispered in her ear.

"Don't turn, and don't you dare pick them up. Keep your head high, chin up, and face them like a queen. No shields,” I said. “Just you.”

Then I slid my hand into hers, laced our fingers, and tugged her close, her curvy body brushing against my own, sending something into my groin.

That's new.

Her breath hitched. At the contact, her hands were trembling in mine as we walked, me leading her in the middle of the sea of people parting for us as we walked through them. 

Every step was fire, the feel of every eye on us was gasoline. But I welcomed it, already used to the eyes of everyone on me from a tender age.

Looking ahead, I saw two people standing at the top of the stairs, their eyes wide in shock as the girl looked at Sloane with anger, pain, and malice. The guy looks at Sloane, my girl, in shock, and what looks like;

Pain.

Good, let them burn, Sloane.

He dared not look at me, at least not when I or anyone else would know. His father needs that investment after all.

 It's Matt and Roxanne.

“Well, well,” Roxanne hissed, her icy eyes flicking down to where Sloane’s hand was tangled in mine, her hand clenched by her side into a fist as she tried not to go feral. I know her; she's tethering off the edges in rage. But she can't do anything, not when I'm here anyway, not when I have given Sloane my arm, and with it, my protection.

“Didn’t know you started collecting strays, Lucien.” Her lips curl in a snarl, her anger and irritation obvious.

Sloane flinched.

Roxanne smiled, noticing her effect on her.

Bad move.

I leaned down, whispering just loud enough for Sloane to hear. “Say the word, and I’ll ruin her.”

My anger rises, ready to obliterate anything in my purview.

But Sloane straightened, wiping off every look of hurt on her face as she looked Roxanne in the eye, her lips drawn in a sweet smile.  Her voice was steady, cold, and unflinching as she spoke.

“At least I wasn’t passed around like Lucien’s father’s wine collection.”

Roxanne’s jaw dropped. Matt let out a stunned breath, and everyone held their breath.

Shocked and gob-smacked by Sloane's words as they all stand, watching the show we made for them.

Nice fire, Sloane. I think as I smirk, looking at my girl.

'Fake girl,' My inner voice corrects, but I shun him.

“Oh?” Sloane tilted her head. “That shut you up?”

 Proud.

So fucking proud.

That's what I feel in this moment, pure elation and so much fucking pride at her words.

That's my girl.

The urge to give her a high five rises, but I push it back.

Roxanne recovered quickly. “You think he likes you?” She asked, placing her smirk on her face, a vindictive look in her eyes.

Lucien smirked. “I don’t like her.”

Sloane stiffened beside him, her breath hitched again, but I pulled her closer as I said;

“I’m obsessed.”

And then I did it.

In front of everyone—students, teachers, staff—I grabbed Sloane’s waist, spun her into me, and kissed her.

Not a peck. Not a fake kiss on the cheek.

Real. A real fucking kiss.

Her lips parted in shock just as her hands gripped my shirt like she forgot how to breathe. My mouth claimed hers, slow and hard and brutal in the way first kisses shouldn’t be.

But this wasn’t our first kiss.

It was our first war cry, our first declaration of war, of telling both of them.

THE BATTLE LINE HAS BEEN DRAWN.

When I pulled back, her eyes were wild with shock, her lips were red, and her breathing was rough, fast as she stared at me in shock, her eyes somewhat sad.

“You said fake,” she breathed, trying to catch her breath.

“That felt real.”

I brushed her cheek. “Then lie to yourself, scholarship girl. That’s what we’re both doing anyway.”

Matt looked gutted.

Roxanne? Shaking.

We walked past them like kings stepping over corpses.

And that’s when I felt it; the buzzing, vibrating, spreading like wildfire. 

Like clockwork, and exactly as I planned, the news had spread.

My phone lit up.

So did hers.

I checked the screen.

A photo. Of us. The kiss.

Captioned: SHE'S THE REASON LUCIEN, KING OF RAVENSCROFT, DUMPED ROXANNE! LUCIEN KISSES CHARITY CASE, SLOANE RICHARDS IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE SCHOOL.

I showed it to her.

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes wide in shock.

"So fast?"

I smiled.

“Let them talk,” I whispered. 

“Let them all burn.” She responds, walking with her hand fully linked with mine, head high, and chin up.

Then I looked out over the school, smirking because I knew one thing they didn't;

The real games haven’t even started.