Rachel POV 

The morning sun hit different when you had a closet full of clothes that didn't come from thrift stores.

I stepped out of my room wearing the outfit I'd put together with literal disbelief:

A soft cream sweater, new fitted jeans, clean white sneakers, and a subtle pink lip gloss I'd stared at for ten minutes before buying.

My hair actually looked decent, after using the card to shop for new conditioner and shampoo.

My backpack was spacious and made of real leather.

I looked like... a different girl than what the old Rachel usually wore to school.

I finally stepped out of the manor doors into the courtyard. A sleek black car waited out front with the driver standing beside it.

Behind it, another SUV held the five guards-trying way too hard to blend in with the simple casual clothes they'd been given.

Leo spotted me first.

"MAMA!" he shouted, practically bouncing as Damien held him steady by the shoulders. Damien was mid-conversation with the five men, but his gaze snapped to me immediately.

My heart warmed.

Leo waved both hands in the air like he was trying to signal an aeroplane.

Damien placed one large hand gently over Leo's to calm him, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward when he saw me.

Damn.

He noticed.

He noticed everything.

His gaze swept over me-slow, assessing-lingering a half-second too long on the gloss on my lips. He definitely noticed I dressed up a bit.

I pretended not to melt.

Leo ran toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"You look so pretty! Did you get new clothes?"

I laughed. "Yes, I ordered them over the weekend. But they came pretty fast."

"Papa bought it?" Leo added.

My eyes flicked to Damien.

His expression didn't change-but something warm flickered beneath the ice.

"Yes," I said softly. "Papa helped."

Leo beamed, proud as ever.

Damien finally spoke, voice low and steady.

"You ready for school?"

I lifted my brand-new backpack. "Ready."

He stepped a bit closer.

Close enough that I caught the faint scent of something cold and expensive.

"You'll have the driver, as promised. They'll drop you off at the main gate-not inside. I don't want attention drawn to you."

His eyes dropped again to my outfit.

Something unreadable passed through them.

"You look..."

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

"...better."

My cheeks warmed.

"Thanks," I muttered.

Leo tugged my sleeve. "Bring me snacks when you come back!"

"I'll try."

Damien raised a brow. "She's going to school, Leo."

Leo pouted dramatically. "But I want to try outside snacks."

I laughed and ruffled his hair.

The driver opened the door for me.

Damien's voice reached me just as I was about to step inside.

"Rachel."

I looked back.

His gaze held mine with quiet, undeniable intensity.

"If anything feels off..." his tone hardened, "...notify the guards immediately."

I swallowed. "I will."

He gave a single, slow nod.

Leo waved wildly.

"BYE MAMA!! LOVE YOUUU!"

I smiled back at them-at him-and climbed into the car.

As the engine started and the manor began to shrink behind us, I felt it:

For the first time since stepping into this world...

...I was allowed to breathe.

--

The driver dropped me at the main gate just like Damien instructed; smooth, quiet, clean exit.

From the outside, the campus looked painfully normal.

Students walked around with backpacks, coffee cups, loud laughter... all the things I hadn't experienced in weeks.

But the second I stepped through the gate?

Whispers.

Low at first.

Then sharper.

"Did you see the news last night?"

"It's the Montrel symbol again-"

"They said some girl was involved."

"Crazy. Imagine being there-"

I kept my head down.

My brand-new shoes suddenly felt way too loud against the pavement.

I pulled out my phone.

Damien had returned it cleaned, reset, and fully charged.

A notification banner popped up immediately:

BREAKING: Alley Clash Between Rival Groups - MONTREL Mark Found.

My stomach flipped.

I tapped it open.

Images.

Police tape.

Graffiti of the mark Damien carved.

Reporters speculating.

Rumors spiraling.

Victim statements suggest a young woman may have been present... though identity is unknown.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

They didn't know it was me.

Better keep it that way.

I shut off the screen quickly, shoving the phone into my pocket.

But before I could move, I heard it-

"Rachel?"

My spine went stiff.

I turned around slowly.

And there he was.

Eli Moreno.

My accidental crush.

Senior art major.

Tall, warm brown skin, soft curls falling over his forehead, sketchbook under his arm like he was born with it.

He blinked at me, confused relief on his face."Rachel? You're actually here-I thought you were sick or something."

His gaze dragged over my outfit, stopping on my lip gloss for a millisecond too long.

"...you look really different."

"Uh-yeah," I said awkwardly, my voice a little too high. "Just... a rough few weeks. Family stuff."

"Must have been some family stuff," he said, his eyes lingering on the quality of my sweater. 

"You vanished. And now you come back looking like that." He stepped closer, lowering his voice with a teasing smirk. "So, what's the deal? You got some rich boyfriend keeping you busy?"

My eyes widened. I couldn't let him think I was unavailable. "What? No! No, it's nothing like that. I'm... I'm single." The word felt like a lie, but it was technically true.

Eli looked me up and down, his face unreadable before a slow, appreciative smirk appeared. "That's good to know."

A flutter of hope sparked in my chest. "Good?" I prompted, a shy smile touching my lips.

Before he could answer, my phone buzzed. A single text from an unknown number:

Unknown: Status? The individual you're with is not in our files. Advise.

My blood ran cold. The individual you're with. They were watching, and they didn't know who Eli was. I resisted the urge to scan the crowd for them.

Eli's smirk faded as he saw my face pale. "Everything okay?"

"Yep!" I said, too quickly, forcing a bright tone. "Just... a spam text." I needed to get this back on track, to grasp this one shred of my old life. 

"So, uh... since I'm single and you think it's 'good'..." I took a small, nervous breath. "Would you want to get coffee after the lecture today? I mean, if you're not too busy?"

The shift was instant. Eli's friendly warmth evaporated. His posture straightened, and he took a subtle half-step back, creating a cold space between us.

"Sorry, Rachel," he said, his voice now flat and polite. "I'm busy." He sharply removed his hands from his pockets, the movement final and dismissive, completely at odds with the guy who'd been smirking seconds ago.

Before I could stammer a reply, he gave a tight, meaningless smile. "See you around."

He turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hall, the heat of embarrassment rushing to my cheeks. I felt like a fool. Of course, my stupid, adolescent advances wouldn't move him. Did my new look somehow make me look desperate? Or was it something else?

I sighed, the brief illusion of normalcy shattering around me. This kind of hope was a liability. It got you noticed, and it got you hurt.

And in my world, getting noticed was the most dangerous thing of all.

Rachel POV

The big lecture hall was already filling up by the time I slipped inside. Students shuffled into their seats one by one, chatting, laughing, living their normal lives.

Meanwhile, I was still dying inside from Eli's rejection.

My cheeks burned with the memory as I walked toward the back. I sat down quickly, trying to pretend I wasn't replaying the moment in my head like an embarrassing movie.

I straightened in my seat the moment I noticed the person beside me.

One of Damien's guards.

Dressed in a college hoodie and jeans, with a backpack and fake glasses, he was doing his best impression of a student. An impression completely ruined by the fact that he was built like a professional safe mover.

I groaned inwardly. God, could this day get any worse?

He didn't look at me at first, just sat stiffly, flipping open his notebook like the most diligent "student" on campus.

I sighed, grateful he wasn't drawing attention-until he spoke.

"You seem distressed, madam," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Is it regarding the male from the hallway? We can arrange a... conversation with him."

My head snapped toward him. "What? No!" I hissed, horrified. "Do not even think about it! What is wrong with you people?"

He blinked. "Understood. Standing down."

Before I could yell again, a familiar voice cut in.

"Rachel?"

I turned and barely had time to react before Isabella rushed over, practically throwing herself onto me in a tight hug.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, squeezing the life out of me. "Girl, I was so worried! You didn't answer my messages! My calls! Nothing!"

I wheezed. "Isa-air-breathing-please-"

She released me and plopped into the seat on my other side, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Don't you 'family stuff' me. Spill. What really happened?"

"It was just... complicated family stuff," I repeated, the lie feeling flimsier than ever. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Isa sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'll allow it. But with all this mafia craziness in the news? That alley shooting? You can't just vanish!"

I froze, keeping my expression neutral.

Behind me, the guard didn't even look up, but I saw his eyes flick toward Isabella for one sharp second.

"I'm being careful," I said gently. "Promise."

Isa studied me, and her gaze softened. "...But something's still off. You're upset."

I swallowed. She saw right through me.

Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, no. Don't tell me this is about Eli."

I deflated completely, the last of my composure evaporating.

"...I asked him out again," I whispered, the confession tasting like ash.

Isa fell silent for a beat. Then she let out a short, sharp scoff. "Rachel. I told you that guy was bad news."

"I know, I know," I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"He's been stringing you along for two years," she continued, crossing her arms. "Don't argue."

"I'm not!" I said, flustered. "It's just-he asked about me today. He was worried."

"Worried?" Isa echoed. "If he were worried, he would've been blowing up your phone like the rest of us were! He just likes the attention."

I blushed, mortified-especially knowing Damien's guard was absorbing every pathetic detail of my love life.

Fantastic.

A mafia operative now knew about my humiliating crush.

"I just... feel like he likes me," I whispered. "He's just confused."

Isa sighed, patting my knee. "Whatever you say, girl. But stop letting him play you."

I nodded weakly.

The lecture hall lights dimmed, signalling the start of class.

--

Lectures were finally over, and I felt drained. I slung my bag over my shoulder and pushed open the doors, stepping into the bright afternoon air.

The campus buzzed with noise-students chatting, laughing, hurrying to their next classes. I walked down the steps, heading toward the small café across the courtyard. I needed caffeine. Needed something sweet for Leo. Needed a tiny piece of normal.

My phone buzzed just as I reached the walkway.

Unknown: You should return home at once. The driver is here.

I stopped, eyebrows lifting in annoyance.

Me: No. I want coffee. And I'm getting snacks for Leo. Just wait a few minutes. You're watching me anyway.

A pause.

Unknown: Okay, madam. We're right behind you.

I rolled my eyes and continued walking toward the café, muttering under my breath.

I was not going home without my coffee.

But as I got closer to the front area of campus, a shift in the crowd made me look up.

Near the front gate-just a little past the café patio-someone stood beside a large black Jeep.

At first, it was just a silhouette.

Then I recognised the posture. The hair. The way he leaned against the car while scrolling his phone, as if nothing in the world could rush him.

My feet slowed on their own.

No.

No way.

I walked a little farther, heart thudding.

And then-clear as day-I saw him.

"Marcus?" I breathed.

He lifted his head at the sound of his name, sunlight catching his face.

A slow smile spread across his lips. Warm. Familiar. Protective.

"Hey, little sis," he said, pushing off the Jeep casually.

My chest tightened at the familiar sound of his voice. I walked closer, and Marcus pulled me into a quick, warm hug-strong and grounding, like everything I'd been missing.

"You okay?" he asked, holding me at arm's length to study my face.

"I'm fine," I said gently. "Just... life being life."

He sighed. "Sorry, I've been distant. Work's been all over the place."

"It's okay," I smiled. "You helped me get into school. That's more than enough."

Marcus nodded, then brightened a little. "Well... I'm in the city for a few months. Wanted to tell you in person."

My heart lifted. "Really? That's amazing."

"Yeah. Maybe we can all hang out-you, me... Dad-"

I blinked. "You want me and Dad to hang out with you?"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Don't sound so shocked. I don't hate him. I just... tolerate him from a distance."

I snorted.

But the moment faded when his eyes lowered slowly, scanning my outfit.

Once.

Twice.

He didn't even hide it.

"...Rachel," he said slowly, "where did you get all this?"

My stomach dropped.

I swallowed. "Oh-uh... I bought them."

"With what money?" he asked, not unkindly... just honestly. "You weren't wearing anything like this last time we FaceTimed, and you don't spend like this. That bag alone is-" he paused, squinting at the stitching, "-definitely not cheap."

Panic crawled up my throat.

"Marcus, it's nothing," I said quickly. "Just needed a change of clothes."

My phone buzzed.

I ignored it.

Marcus's eyes didn't.

His frown deepened.

He was piecing things together too quickly.

Too accurately.

And my brain-

My stupid, panicked, stressed brain-grabbed the first excuse it found.

"I-um... It's a guy."

Marcus went still.

"...a what?" he said, blinking.

"A boyfriend," I blurted, dying inside. "He bought the stuff. Nothing weird. Just... gifts."

Marcus stared at me like I'd just told him I joined a cult.

"Rachel." His voice dropped several degrees. "You have a boyfriend... and you didn't tell me?"

"It's really new," I whispered. "Barely anything, actually."

Marcus crossed his arms, eyes narrowing "Name."

"I-I can't tell you yet."

"Why?"

"Because... he's private," I said feeling guilty.

Marcus raised a brow. "Rachel Owens, you better not be lying to me."

I swallowed. "It's true. He's just... secretive."

Marcus hummed, studying me like a puzzle. "Is it that crush you wouldn't stop ranting about? The artist guy?"

I flinched. "No. No, God no. I moved on."

Another lie.

Marcus sighed, clearly not satisfied. "Come on. Let's get some drinks."

I followed him into the campus café-only to immediately spot two of Damien's guards sitting by the window, pretending to eat while very clearly tracking my every move.

Great.

Perfect.

Exactly what I needed.

Marcus pulled out his card, but before he could use it, I took out the black card Damien gave me.

Marcus froze.

"...What is that?" His voice was flat but sharp.

Crap.

I shoved it back into my pocket like it burned my hand.

"It's, um-a card."

"A card," he repeated slowly. "Rachel, that's a premium metal card. Those aren't 'just' cards."

My face burned. "I only use it because-because I'm stopping by the orphanage after this. To buy snacks for the kids. So I needed... um... funds."

Total lie.

Zero hesitation.

Marcus held my gaze for a moment... then exhaled.

"Alright," he said quietly. "If you say so."

Relief loosened my shoulders.

I turned away, pretending everything was fine.

But I could feel his eyes on me and I knew he didn't believe a single word.