LOGINThe weekend mountain trip finally ended, and everyone returned to Green Hill University.Everything had changed between Angel and me.On Monday morning, the school hallways were loud and busy as usual. Students were laughing, opening their lockers, and talking about the retreat. But the moment Angel and I walked past each other in the main hall, it felt like all the sound in the world just faded away.I stopped. He stopped. We stood a few feet apart, staring at each other.His eyes locked onto mine, and for a split second, I saw the memory of our kiss flashing in his mind. I could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle touch of his hands in my hair, and the way he had held me to his chest in the cabin. My heart beat faster, and my face grew warm. I wanted to step closer to him.But then, the side doors opened, and his friends walked in.His jaw tightened. He quickly looked away from me, his eyes turning cold. He put his hands in his pockets, completely ignoring me, and walked p
The University autumn retreat was supposed to be a fun weekend of teamwork and fresh air.Every year, the school forced all the students to spend three days at a luxury campground deep in the Pines Mountains. For most of the rich kids, it was an excuse to wear expensive hiking boots and take pictures for their social media pages. For me, it was just another nightmare.I spent the whole morning trying to stay out of trouble with Angel and his popular friends. Ever since I saw him in the garden with the blackmailer, I felt completely different about him. I was worried. But I could not tell him that. By early afternoon, the sunny sky suddenly turned a shade of dark purple. I had wandered off the main hiking path to find a quiet place to sit and read my book. Naomi, my roommate, had stayed behind at the main camp to help set up the tents. I was completely alone in the woods when I felt the first cold drop of rain hit my nose.Suddenly, my cell phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled
The victory with the blazer did not last long. For the next two days, I kept waiting for Angel to strike back. But nothing happened.Instead, Angel ignored me. When he walked past me in the hallway, He did not say a word, and same goes for Hannah or anyone else bother me either. It was completely out of place. And honestly, the silence was much scarier than the prank. It gave me too much time to think.Why was he so focused on getting rid of me? I know, I did not fit in with the wealthy kids at Green Hill. But Asher, his father, was a billionaire with a mansion. Angel had his own wing of the house. He could easily just avoid me forever. Why go through all the trouble of plotting against me?Why try so hard to drive me away?The more I thought about it, the less it made sense. Angel was arrogant and mean, but he was also very smart. He is the Student Council President. He had a whole school to run. Spending his time torturing a new stepsister seemed like a huge waste of his energy.
I woke up the next morning feeling like I had just run a very long and exhausting race. The morning sunlight was shining brightly through the large glass windows of my new dorm room at Green Hill University. I stayed in bed for a few minutes, staring up at the white ceiling. I wished I could just pull the warm blankets over my head and hide from the world. Yesterday was a complete disaster. Angel, my arrogant new stepbrother, had made sure everyone on campus knew I was an unwanted outsider. But hiding was not an option. I promised myself I would not let him break my spirit. I took a deep breath, threw off the blankets, and sat up. "Good morning!" a cheerful voice called out. I looked across the room and saw my new roommate, Naomi. I had briefly met her yesterday when I moved my bags in, but we had both been too tired to talk much. Now, in the bright daylight, I could see she had bouncy, curly brown hair and a big, friendly smile that instantly made me feel a little bit better
The gates of Green Hill University looked like the entrance to a royal palace, not a school. As the taxi dropped me off at the front curb, I stood on the stone sidewalk and gripped the handle of my suitcase. Everywhere I looked, I saw sports cars, designer backpacks, and students who looked like they belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine.I looked down at my simple sneakers and my plain denim jacket. I had never felt so out of place in my entire life.Just one month ago, my life was completely normal. I was living in a quiet little apartment with my mother, working part-time after school to help pay our bills. Then, everything changed in a flash. My mother married Asher Hart, a famous billionaire with more money than I could ever imagine. Overnight, we were moved into a massive mansion, and before I could even catch my breath, my new stepfather decided I needed to attend the most exclusive university in the country."It will be a fresh start for you, Nina," my mother had told m
The rain tapped softly against the high glass windows of my art studio. Back home, everything felt exactly the same, yet completely different. The room was filled with the familiar, comforting smell of turpentine, wet paint, and old paint. Canvases of all sizes were stacked against the brick walls, showing paintings of arts that i did.I sat on my tall wooden stool, staring at a blank, white canvas resting in front of me. I held a paintbrush in my hand, but I could not bring myself to dip it into the pools of colors in my paint palette. For the past two weeks, since the cruise ship had docked and I had practically run away from the port, I had not been able to paint a single stroke. Every time I tried to choose a color, all I could see was the deep, green of Finn’s eyes.I was completely miserable. My heart felt so heavy in my chest.I looked down at the messy desk in the corner. The red eviction notice was still sitting there, a bright, painful warning that I had only a few days lef
I make a study of Dominic the way other people study stock markets. Obsessively, clinically, with color-coded notes and a growing sense that I’m in over my head. He drinks black coffee at 3:00 PM exactly. Not 3:01. Not 2:59. Marcus brings it without being asked, sets it on the corner of Dominic’s
Dominic Cole doesn’t walk. He advances. That’s the first thing I learn following him down the 47th floor. No wasted motion, no pause to let me catch up. The hallway is all glass and brushed steel, and the people we pass go quiet. Not in the “celebrity in the room” way. In the “shark just swam by”
I used to think humiliation had a sound. Like glass breaking, or a car crash. Something loud and violent you could point to. I was wrong. Humiliation sounds like polite laughter. The kind that ripples through a rooftop party at 11:47 PM, when three hundred of Manhattan’s most connected people de
Dominic doesn’t ask me to go to Venice. He tells me. “Wheels up at 6 AM,” Marcus says, dropping a folder on my desk Tuesday morning. “Venice. D’Angelo account. You’re on the pitch team.” I look up. Dominic’s office door is closed. It’s been closed since the gala. Since Are you in this with me?







