Chapter 3

That Same Blue Eyes

Killian Pov

The engine hums a steady rhythm beneath my hands. The leather of the steering wheel feels cool and smooth, a big difference to the heat that still crawls beneath my skin, the constant reminder of a night I’m desperately trying to erase. Serena sits in the passenger seat beside me, her phone in her hand, scrolling through an endless stream of updates. She is a picture of serene perfection, her hair a flawless cascade of waves, her outfit a designer masterpiece. We are a perfectly assembled couple, a photograph waiting to be taken, and the quiet tension in the car is the only thing that proves we are real.

“Did your father call you this morning?” she asks, her voice airy and light, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.

I flinch, a tiny, almost unnoticed movement. “Yeah. A few times.” I keep my eyes on the road, watching the trees pass by.

She laughs, a sound so perfect  “Of course. You know how he gets. He just wants everything to go smoothly. My parents are thrilled about the deal, you know. My dad says it’s the beginning of a dynasty.”

A dynasty. I bite the inside of my cheek. It sounds like something from a history book, a cold, empty word. The thought of a future with Serena, with her endless discussions of mergers and company stocks, with her perfect, emotionless kisses, sends a wave of suffocating dread through me.

I thought I had accepted this life, this pre-written script. But now… now it feels like a prison I can’t escape. The memory of a raw, primal connection, of a man who looked at me with a fiery hunger I had never known, crashes into me. I can’t stop thinking about the feeling of his hands on me, of the sound of his voice saying those filthy, beautiful words. It was a single night, a mistake, a lapse in judgment, but it has completely scattered everything I thought I knew.

“It is,” I manage to say, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. “He’s excited.”

She puts her phone down and turns to me, her smile a little too bright. “It’s exciting, Killian. Our lives are all planned out. We’ll be married, we’ll take over the company, we’ll build an empire together. Isn’t that what you want?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and loaded. Isn’t that what you want? I used to think it was. I used to believe that my desires were aligned with my father’s plans. Now, the question feels like a trick. The real answer, that I want to run, that I want to find the man from the club, that I want a life that is messy and real and my own, is a dangerous truth I can’t speak out loud.

“Of course,” I lie, the word had a bitter taste on my tongue. “It’s perfect.”

She beams, her face radiating with genuine happiness. I feel a pang of guilt. She doesn’t deserve this. She is a pawn in her own game, just like me, and she doesn’t even know it. But my pity for her is a cold, distant thing. The only thing I can feel is the presence of a man I don’t even know, a man who showed me a side of myself that is a thousand times more real than this entire life I’m living.

I pull into her university’s parking lot, a sprawling campus of brick and ivy-covered buildings. She leans over and gives me a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later. Call me tonight?”

“Yeah,” I say, the word a hollow echo in the car.

I watch her walk away, a perfectly composed figure fading into the crowd of students. As she disappears from view, I feel a sense of overwhelming, cold relief. I am alone again.

I pull out of her campus and head toward my own. It’s a short drive to Leo’s house. He is a constant in my life, a reality I can anchor myself to. My heart feels a little lighter as I approach his place, a quiet hope that his normalcy can somehow rub off on me.

He is waiting on the curb, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He gets into the car, his usual boisterous energy filling the tight space. “Dude! Late again. Don’t you know you have a class in ten minutes?”

“I know, I know. I had to drop Serena off,” I say, and the excuse, even to my own ears, sounds weak.

He buckles his seatbelt and finally looks at me, his eyes narrowing. “Whoa. What’s with the getup?”

I look down at myself. I’m wearing a simple, dark hoodie, a departure from my usual team-branded athletic gear. My hair, usually perfectly styled, is a bit messy, not styled at all. I thought it was a small change, a way to disappear. But Leo notices everything.

“What? It’s just a hoodie,” I say, my voice defensive.

“It’s not you, man. What’s going on?” he presses. “And you’re still a little pale from that hangover. Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t been acting like yourself.”

I force a laugh. “I’m fine, man. Look, I’m trying a new look. You know, trying to fit in with the masses. I’m a business student, remember? You can’t look like a quarterback all the time.” I try to sound casual.

I just changed the subject. “Speaking of business, what class do we have first? I’m hoping it’s that intro to finance one. I’ve been trying to get my mind off… well, off of everything. I need to focus on something else.”

He gives me a long, skeptical look but finally drops it. “Yeah, that’s it. Intro to finance with the new guy. Mr… I don’t know. He’s some hotshot from the city who supposedly made a billion dollars.”

A hotshot from the city. That's unusual, what will such be doing in this place.

We pull into campus, the parking lot already crowded with students. The walk to the business class is so crowded . The football team is gathered on the lawn, loud and boisterous as always. Marcus, with his usual sneer, is at the center of the group. As we walk by, they all fall silent for a moment, their eyes on me.

"Look who it is," Marcus says, loud enough for me to hear. "The golden boy. Papa ain't with you?”

The rest of the guys laugh. Leo instinctively steps in front of me, ready to defend me, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t,” I say, my voice low. I just keep walking.

The guys start to call out to me, their voices dripping with fake concern. "Hey, man! You okay? You look a little... different." "Where's the perfect smile, Killian?" It’s a test. They're trying to see if I’m still the same confident, untouchable leader I used to be. They are just a bunch of guys being guys, goading and prodding.

I ignore them walking past them, I don't have time for their bullshit, I already have a lot on my plate.

We finally made it to the business building, a modern structure of glass and steel. I walk into the classroom, my heart pounding against my ribs. I take a seat in the back, a desperate attempt to hide away. I pull out my laptop and try to focus on the syllabus, on anything but my thoughts.

The door opens, and a man walks in. The air in the room stills, and a collective hush falls over the chattering students. I don't look up. I can't. My heart is a drum in my chest, a panicked, fast beat. I just keep staring at my screen, my hands trembling.

"Good morning, everyone," a voice says, a deep, rich baritone that feels both familiar and terrifying. “I am your new professor, Mr. Igor Davies. I am taking over for Professor Adams for a few weeks And I think you’ll find that I am a man who cares about his students and what I will teach. Most importantly I need your respect and I will give you mine."

My head snaps up. The voice is the same. The face is the same. The piercing blue eyes that held me in the club, the same eyes that saw a side of me I didn’t know existed, are now looking straight at me. He gives me a small, almost imperceptible smile. And I am a ghost. A deer caught in the headlights. The man from the club, the one who tore my world apart, is standing at the front of the room, a position of authority and power, and he is my new professor. 

My perfect, planned life is over.