Move 2

The next morning, Angelique rose early for her first day at university. Excitement tingled through her veins. The night before, she had stopped at a shopping center to buy a new outfit. First impressions were everything — especially here. It was true she belonged to the A-Class, but she wasn’t yet sure if she ranked in the upper or lower tier. Her goal was clear: to make connections with the S-Class — particularly with Trunks.

Angelique was what many would call a femme fatale. She could radiate quiet, untouchable elegance one day, and irresistible allure the next. She was gorgeous, and she knew it. That morning, she chose to highlight her seductive side — just enough to turn heads, yet not enough to lose her sophistication. After pampering herself meticulously, she slipped into her new outfit and headed to class.

As she stepped out of her car, all eyes turned toward her. Whispers rippled through the courtyard. Who is she? Where did she come from? How long has she been here? Her presence was magnetic; her aura seemed to command the surrounding air. A young man approached her, flashing a confident grin.

“Hey, pretty! Can I help you?” he asked. Angelique gave him a cool once-over, from head to toe.

“And you are?” she replied evenly.

“Henry McGregor — at your service, my lady.” She glanced at the pin on his uniform, then back at him.

“Have you seen my pin?” she asked. Henry looked down, and his expression immediately changed. His confidence faltered.

“See the difference?” Angelique said with a cold smile. “I don’t think you can help me.”

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the elevator, leaving him to the laughter of nearby students.

She finally reached her classroom just as the first lecture was about to begin. At the door stood Mrs. Thompson, who greeted her warmly and let her in.

“Hello, everyone. I’d like you to know that you have a new classmate,” Mrs. Thompson announced. “I’ll let her introduce herself.” Angelique stepped forward, poised and calm.

“My name is Angelique Camille Rochefort. I’m nineteen years old and from France. I’m the daughter of Pierre Rochefort, a renowned French jeweler. I studied in Paris before being transferred here.”

Mrs. Thompson nodded approvingly and directed her to an empty seat. Angelique took her place, aware of the murmurs that spread across the room. Two girls leaned toward her.

“Oh my God, I love your hair color. Is it natural?” one asked eagerly.

“Oh no, it’s dyed,” Angelique replied with a polite smile.

“I need to meet your hairdresser,” the second girl said.

“Don’t listen to her,” the first laughed. “Her mother would kill her if she tried that! Anyway, nice to meet you. I’m Aaliyah Al Sabah from Kuwait — my father’s an oil and petrol magnate. And this,” she gestured beside her, “is Princess Catherine of Gloucester. We’re both A-Class upper.”

“Nice to meet you,” Angelique said smoothly.

“Since you’re new, you should hang out with us. We see you are also A-Class upper,” Catherine suggested, pointing at Angelique's pin.

“Sure. I’d love that,” Angelique replied. Just then, the atmosphere in the room shifted. A group of four students entered, and instantly, the chatter ceased.

“Who are they?” Angelique whispered. Aaliyah leaned closer, lowering her voice.

“That’s Suhee Park — daughter of Euna Baek, Secretary-General of the United Nations, and Minho Park, the second most powerful businessman in Korea, and number 3 in the world’s top 5. She’s a 4th generation chaebol. The guy next to her is Alejandro Carvajal — his father is a Colombian mafia boss disguised as a businessman, Don Diego Carvajal. You don’t want to mess with him.

Next is Cornelia Harley Meier — her father, Noah Meier, owns the largest bank in the world. She’s Swiss. And the last one is Ryan Williams, an American. His mother owns B-Tech — the only woman in the top one percent on Forbes. They are four of the five S-Class students. Their names are all on the Diamond Board.”

“And the fifth?” Angelique asked softly.

“Trunks?” Aaliyah and Catherine exchanged amused glances, then burst out laughing.

“You’ll surely never see him,” Aaliyah said.

“Trunks rarely shows up on campus,” Catherine explained. “It’s not that he doesn’t come — he just hides. No friends, no social life, a total recluse. He is number 1 on Forbes, and actually the richest man in Korea as a 2nd generation Chaebol. He’s the richest S-Class and could easily run this university, but he’s so pathetic that Suhee basically became the queen instead.”

“If it weren’t for his fortune, he’d probably be the most bullied student here,” Aaliyah added. “Alejandro and Ryan tolerate him, but barely. His only friend is Suhee — they’ve known each other since childhood. She’s madly in love with him. Everyone knows it… except him. And we all wonder what she finds attractive in him.”

“I see…” Angelique murmured, her gaze following Suhee as she took her seat.

Someone in the room spoke up.

“Hey, Suhee, what are you doing in the business class? I thought you were majoring in politics.”

Suhee turned sharply. “Are you questioning me?” she asked coldly.

“N-no, sorry,” the student stammered.

“Suhee decided to follow a joint program in politics and business,” Cornelia interjected smoothly.

“We’re leaving,” Alejandro said suddenly. “See you during break.”

The three of them — Alejandro, Cornelia, and Ryan, — gathered their things and walked out.

Suhee glanced toward Trunks’ usual seat — empty. A faint frown crossed her face. Just then, the lecturer walked in, and the class began. Still distracted, Suhee slipped her phone out of her bag and typed quickly.

Suhee: Juhoonie oppa! Aren’t you coming to class today?

She snapped a quick selfie, tilted her head slightly, and sent it.

Suhee: See? I started the business course today. You wouldn’t abandon me on my first day, would you?

Her phone buzzed seconds later.

Trunks: I’m not far. I’ll be there in a few.

A soft smile curved her lips.

Suhee and Trunks had known each other since childhood. Their families had always been close, and the two had spent most of their lives together. Trunks had always been the timid one — shy, quiet, and often misunderstood. Socializing never came easily to him, and when the other kids mocked or bullied him, Suhee had always stepped in to defend him.

Even as a child, her feelings for him were unmistakable. They had grown up side by side, shared countless memories abroad, and then — life had separated them for a few years. Yet, her love for him had never faded.

When they reunited after completing secondary school, she had finally gathered the courage to confess… but tragedy struck. Trunks lost both of his parents in a devastating accident. From that moment on, Suhee became his anchor — his emotional support, his confidante, his ally in the long and ruthless battle for his inheritance. She promised herself that one day he would see her — not as the childhood friend who stood by him, but as the woman who loved him from the start.

Yet, Trunks remained unreadable. No one could ever tell whether his tenderness toward her was affection, mere gratitude or true love. His feelings were hidden behind calm ambiguity, and Suhee, afraid to shatter what they already had, kept her love locked inside, hoping one day he’d love her back.

As Suhee smiled at her phone, Angelique watched her from across the room, studying her with quiet curiosity.

“Park Suhee,” she thought. “So this is her.”

Suhee was undeniably beautiful — poised and refined, with a commanding presence that exuded both power and grace. Her aura was cold, but elegant; the kind that made people look twice. She wasn’t tall, but her long, wavy dark hair, thin body, and porcelain-white skin made her stand out. Her lips were soft pink, and her almond-shaped eyes shimmered beneath the light — the kind of beauty that belonged on a K-pop stage.

But Suhee wasn’t just beautiful. She was brilliant — ranked second in the entire university, right after Trunks. She excelled at everything: academics, music, dance, and even sports. It was no wonder every guy on campus and outside wanted her attention. Yet, her heart was already taken.

“Park Suhee, huh?” Angelique murmured under her breath, her lips curling slightly. “Interesting…”

Moments later, Suhee’s eyes lit up. She turned toward the door with a radiant smile. Angelique followed her gaze — only to see a tall, awkward young man stumbling into the classroom. He tripped over his own feet, scattering books across the floor.

“Trunks…” Suhee whispered softly, half-rising from her seat to help him. But before she could move, Angelique was already there. She knelt gracefully, gathering his books one by one.

“Thank you,” the boy muttered, barely meeting her gaze.

“You’re welcome,” Angelique replied with a polite smile.

He didn’t smile back. He didn’t ask who she was, didn’t make conversation — didn’t even seem to notice her presence. He simply collected his books, murmured a brief “excuse me,” and walked to his seat.

Angelique straightened slowly, watching him as he sat down — tall, medium build, a little disheveled. His black hair was tied in a short man bun, his glasses too round for his face. Braces caught the light when he spoke. His clothes were loose and old-fashioned — oversized trousers, a faded long-sleeved shirt, big shoes. Everything about him screamed awkward.

“Tall. Asian. Tanned skin. Sloppy. Clumsy. Shabby.” Angelique’s inner voice whispered with a hint of amusement. So this is Trunks? A real loser, as they said.

“Trunks, are you okay?” Suhee asked gently.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he replied, brushing the dust off his shirt.

Suhee shot Angelique a sharp glare — the kind that could slice glass. Angelique only arched a brow, unbothered, before returning to her seat.