Four

Hira's POINT OF VIEW

And now, we are inside the car, dressed in an expensive uniform and going to a university I know nothing about while Alaric Jeremiah is the driver.

Don't ask me how yesterday went after my question…just ask me how I found myself in the car, going to a school I made no enquiries about, no name, no nothing.

All I got from my mother was— Hira, wake up and get ready for your new college. As though I was a puppet who must follow the instructions of her Lord, whether good or bad.

I kept my gaze fixed on the window for as long as I could, watching the unfamiliar streets of Los Angeles twist into something I would have to learn whether I wanted to or not.

But the presence of Jeremiah beside me, driving the SUV car like it was nothing compared to the many cars he had driven.

After calling my name like a stranger, he hadn't spoken to me since yesterday.

Not even a greeting or anything.

And I should have done the same. I should have stayed quiet and let the silence eat us all up till we get to our destination…but then..

“Why are you here?”

For a second, nothing changed. Then, slowly, he turned his head just enough to look at me. “You tell me,” he said, tone cold and flat, like my question didn't deserve anything more.

I let out a soft breath. “Look, whatever you are thinking…I didn't ask to come here,” I said. “So don't act like this was my idea.”

He went silent again before a short mocking exhale left him. “That's funny,” he said, his attention returning back to the road. “Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you followed the choas here.”

And it made my jaw tightened. “I didn't follow anything,” I replied. “I was forced to leave.”

“Right,” he said, with disbelief. “You just happened to end up in my city. In my house. Around my fucking family.” His tone was so cold. “Quite a coincidence.”

I turned my head, finally looking at him fully.“This isn’t about you,” I said.

That got a reaction and a very big one at that.

“Everything in this city is about me,” he said, his voice rising. “You should learn that quickly.”

Of course it was. He was a prince. The name Alaric carried all around with power, influence and control and it explained the house.

And I had walked straight into it, unwillingly.

“Then maybe you should ask your father why I’m here,” I said, “Because last I checked, I didn’t invite myself.”

He laughed.“My father doesn’t make mistakes like this,” he said. “Which means this isn’t his.”

I didn’t respond because we both knew exactly who he was talking about.

“My guess?” he continued, his tone turning colder with every word. “Your mother saw an opportunity and took it.”

I felt something twist in my chest, but I forced my expression to stay still.“You don’t know anything about my mother,” I said.

“I know enough,” he replied. “Women like her don’t just end up where she is without wanting something.”

“And what exactly do you think she wants?” I asked, even though I already knew.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze fixed ahead. “Money,” he said simply. “Status and Access.”

He stated, his words sounding like a slap to my face.

“And you,” he added after a second, his voice dropping just enough to make it worse, “are part of the package.”

The insult was too much that I had to swallow the lump that now already forms in my throat, my hands curling slightly against my thighs.

“You’re wrong,” I said, though it didn’t come out as strong as I wanted it to.

He didn’t even look at me.“I’m rarely wrong and you created this. You and your mother orchestrated this whole shenanigans from the start. Does my father even know?”

I stared at him in disbelief, “You don’t even know what actually happened,” I said.

“I know enough,” he replied.

“No, you don’t,” I said. “You saw one version of it and decided that was the truth.”

“And you expect me to believe there’s another one?” he asked, his tone almost bored now.

“Yes,” I said, the word coming out before I could stop it.

He went quiet for a second and then he shook his head slightly, like he had already made up his mind. “I don’t care,” he said.

The simplicity of it hurt more than anything else he had said so far.“You don’t care?” I repeated.

“No,” he said. “Because regardless of what you think the truth is, the result is the same.”

His gaze flicked toward me, more colder now. “You brought attention to yourself,” he continued. “And that’s not something I allow around me.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, my voice breaking in the process.

“It means,” he said, his eyes returning to the road, “you stay out of the spotlight, because you don’t deserve it. And whatever game your mother is playing,” he added, his tone dropping again, “it won’t work on my family.”

I didn't respond. My face was hot. Hot with embarrassment and unshed tears.

“Gold diggers don’t last long here,” he said. “And neither do girls who can’t keep their legs closed.”

My breath caught, my chest tightening painfully, but I refused to react the way he wanted. I refused to give him that.

Instead, I turned my head back to the window, my jaw clenched, my hands shaking just enough that I had to press them down to keep them still.

The car slowed down, a sign that we were arriving.

Tall gates stood ahead, already opening as the car approached, revealing a campus that looked more like a private estate than a school. Everything was too perfect and too far  removed from anything I recognized.

The car rolled to a stop and before I could gather myself properly—

“Jeremiah!”

I turned instinctively at the unfamiliar tiny voice- to see a girl standing a few steps away from us, her presence impossible to ignore.

She was beautiful in a way that felt effortless, her clothes expensive without trying too hard with a confident posture.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and just like that— her expression changed when her eyes landed on me.

“Sofie,” he called softly.

She stepped closer, her gaze flicking toward me briefly, “Who’s she?”

“She’s my maid.”