*Adrian*Seated at the bar, my fingers traced the rim of my half-empty glass, the liquid sloshing gently as I contemplated why on earth I had agreed to come here. When I accepted Chris' invitation, I definitely did not expect to see Lily here too.But then again, that was just one more thing about her that I hadn't seen coming. Just like I wasn't expecting our break up either.I was taken aback when I turned around to scan the crowd and spotted her sitting at the far end of the bar. I thought I was imagining things, maybe the alcohol was having a quicker effect on me now that I was heartbroken.Who knew?But there she was, the source of my torment, in bone and flesh, drinking and laughing with her friends as if she hadn't just dumped my ass a few days ago. I took a sip of my drink, trying to calm the uneasy feeling that had settled in my chest. I hadn't seen or spoken to Lily since we split up, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to see her now. Was she really okay with all of

*Adrian*"Are you going home for the holiday this time?" Chris asked curiously from beside me as we prepared to watch a game in the living room of my apartment.I should have planned something for the break, but due to everything happening lately, I wasn't in the mood for anything. I had a lot to work on with filming and editing anyway, so I decided to stay within campus and focus on that instead.It had been seven days since the karaoke bar—seven days since Lily had allowed herself a moment of vulnerability and surrendered to me. If I tried really hard, I could still feel the aftertaste of her kiss lingering in my mouth, intoxicating and addicting. But then, she vanished again, leaving me with nothing but the memories of her.I glanced at Chris while he scrolled through the channels on my TV. "I guess I'm just not in the holiday spirit this year, so I'll stay here.""Is it because of Lily?" he prodded gently, his brows furrowing slightly. "Or your dad?" "Both," I admitted,

*Lily*My words seemed to be exactly what Adrian needed to hear to carry on with what we were doing. He claimed my lips once more, and his hand, masterful and unerring, darted to my ass, pulling me harder against him. I couldn't suppress the moan that escaped my throat as I felt the urgency of his touch.His mouth charted a fiery trail from my mouth, to my jaw, descending tortuously to the tender expanse of my neck and then further still, to my cleavage. With each brush of his lips, I arched my back, yearning to feel the heat of him across every inch of my skin.His fingers found the hem of my shirt, and with a fluidity born of impatience and longing, he peeled it over my head. The cool air of the room kissed my exposed skin, but the chill was nothing compared to the smoldering look he gave me. It was a gaze that devoured me, that seared into my soul and left me feeling vulnerable, yet enlivened.I could feel the weight of his stare on my black lacy bra, heated and intense upon t

*Lily*The moment the class was interrupted by a slight knock on the door the next morning, I did not expect that my day would take a completely different turn.I knew something was amiss when a young lady handed Professor Calhoun a note and he nodded, his eyes flicking around the classroom and finding me. The space seemed to constrict around me, the walls pressing in with a weight I couldn't shake off. I could feel everyone watching and tracing the trajectory from the unreadable expression on the professor's face to my trembling hands. Professor Calhoun nodded subtly toward the exit, his eyebrows furrowed. "Miss Everhart," he said, his voice penetrating the hushed murmurs that had erupted in the room, "the Dean requires your presence."Fear gripped me with such intensity, a cold knot forming in the pit of my stomach, that I was motionless for a second, waiting for my brain to digest the news.I had never been to the Dean's office before. Not in Elysium anyway. In my old coll

*Lily*The world outside had continued its relentless spin, but within the walls of my father's house, time seemed to have slowed to a gentle crawl. Two weeks since the expulsion had reshaped my existence into something unrecognizable. I'd traded classrooms and libraries for the comforting monotony of domestic life, finding solace in the simple rhythm of household chores.I could tell my father wanted to say so much to me, but after I returned home carrying my luggage, my cheeks stained with tears, I knew he was trying to respect my space. He offered me words of comfort, of course, but I could see it in his eyes how upset he was for my situation.He didn't doubt me for a second; he knew I was innocent. In my opinion, he shared my frustration with the injustice I suffered, but we both understood that, as mere pawns in the chessboard of wealthy and influential people, we were powerless to fight the system.That's what probably bothered him the most.Whenever Dad wasn't working, my