Chapter Three: Name revealed

Alice Monroe had never cared much for the grand events her university occasionally hosted. Business galas, charity luncheons, networking nights, those were worlds far removed from her own. She only attended this one because her best friend, Sophie, had bribed her with promises of free food and the chance to "mingle with the ridiculously rich."

"Honestly, Alice, you should thank me," Sophie whispered as they slipped into the chandelier lit hall. "This is where futures are made. You never know, you might meet your prince charming."

"I don't need a prince," Alice muttered, clutching her notebook like a shield. "I just need to pass my finals."

But Sophie wasn't listening. Her eyes were already wide, darting toward the entrance where a hush had fallen over the crowd.

That was when Brian Carter walked in.

He wasn't just handsome; he was magnetic. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that seemed to command the air around him. His presence turned heads instantly, the kind of man who didn't need to speak to be noticed.

Alice felt her chest tighten as his gaze swept over the crowd,distant, uninterested,until, for the briefest second, his eyes met hers. A spark lit up her veins, startling in its intensity, before he looked away.

"Holy..." Sophie fanned herself dramatically. "That, my dear, is not a prince. That's a king. And I think he just looked at you."

Alice forced a laugh, though her cheeks burned. Men like him didn't look at girls like her.

She was proven right moments later, when a tall blonde,the girl from school,in a glittering gown slid up beside Brian and slipped her hand into his with practiced ease. The room whispered, voices rippling with recognition.

"That's Clarissa Hale," Sophie whispered, leaning close. "Daughter of the Hales, you know, old money, massive empire, scandalously rich. Rumor has it their families have been planning this engagement forever."

Alice's stomach twisted. A fiancé. Of course. Someone like him would never be free.

Brian's expression remained composed as Clarissa smiled up at him, but Alice caught something fleeting in his eyes, something sharp, restless, like a man caged by his own life.

And when his gaze flickered back across the room, landing on Alice again, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Sophie nudged her with a wicked grin. "Oh, girl... this is going to be interesting."

Before Alice could argue, Sophie grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the refreshment table,right where Brian and Clarissa were standing. Alice's heart thundered as Sophie, utterly unbothered, reached past Clarissa to grab a glass of champagne.

"Excuse me," Sophie said with a dazzling smile. "My friend here nearly died running to make it on time tonight. Don't you think she deserves the last croissant?"

Alice's eyes went wide with horror. "Sophie..." she hissed.

But Brian's lips curved ever so slightly, his eyes settling on Alice again. "If she nearly died for it," he said smoothly, his voice low and rich, "then by all means... let her have it."

Alice froze, caught in the weight of his attention. "I-thank you," she managed, clutching the plate Sophie had shoved into her hands.

Clarissa's smile tightened, her grip on Brian's arm sharpening. "Darling, we really should greet the board members," she said pointedly.

Brian didn't look away from Alice immediately. For a heartbeat too long, he held her gaze, unreadable and yet almost... curious. Then he inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk lingering on his lips.

"Enjoy the croissant," he murmured.

And then he let Clarissa pull him away, leaving Alice shaken and Sophie grinning like she'd just watched the opening act of her favorite drama.

"Oh, Alice," Sophie whispered, sipping her champagne. "You're in so much trouble."

Chapter four– Brian

Brian Carter had attended more university galas than he cared to count. His father called them "opportunities." To Brian, they were obligations tedious evenings wrapped in stiff suits and polished smiles. He was expected to show his face, charm the donors, and let Clarissa, his perfectly groomed fiancée, shine on his arm.

Nothing ever surprised him at these events.

Until tonight.

He saw her the moment he stepped into the hall. The girl from the diner standing near the doorway, hair damp from the drizzle outside, clutching a bag like a soldier clinging to a shield. She didn't blend in like the others. No carefully rehearsed laugh, no designer gown. She looked like she'd stumbled into the wrong world entirely and yet Brian couldn't look away.

Her eyes met his. Wide, startled, recognition flashing through it. And then she flushed, gaze darting down as if she'd been caught doing something forbidden.

Something inside his chest shifted an ache he hadn't felt in years.

"Darling," Clarissa's voice cut in, smooth and practiced. She curled her hand around his arm, her diamond catching the chandelier's glow. "They're waiting for us."

Brian blinked, tore his gaze away, and let her guide him forward. He reminded himself who he was, where he was, and why. Clarissa's family aligned with his. Their engagement wasn't about love but legacy. Tonight, like every night, he had a part to play.

Still, as they made their rounds, shaking hands with professors and trustees, Brian caught himself searching the crowd. Looking for her.

And then she was there.

At the refreshment table, next to a petite brunette with a mischievous grin who seemed to be doing all the talking. The girl from the diner his girl, his mind betrayed him stood stiffly, mortified at the attention.

Clarissa's presence sharpened beside him. Her posture straightened, her grip on his arm just a little too tight. Brian should have kept walking. But when the brunette joked about "nearly dying for the last slice of pie," the words left his lips before he could stop them.

"If she nearly died for it," he said evenly, "then by all means... let her have it."

The girl looked up at him then. Properly.

Her lips parted in surprise, her lashes fluttering as though she didn't know what to do under the weight of his gaze. She whispered a shy thank you, voice barely audible over the chatter of the hall.

It shouldn't have meant anything. But Brian felt the echo of her words ripple through him, unexpected and unsettling.

Clarissa tugged on his arm. "Darling, the board members are waiting." Her smile was perfect, practiced, though her eyes carried the sharpness of someone who noticed too much.

Brian allowed himself to be pulled away, slipping easily back into his role the charming heir, the future CEO, the fiancé. It was the sensible choice. The expected choice.

But as he opened the car door for Clarissa later that night, his gaze betrayed him one last time. Across the parking lot, she stood frozen, still clutching her bag, still staring into the night as though she wasn't sure what had just happened.

For a fleeting second, her eyes lifted. Met his.

Something passed between them then. Something neither of them spoke, but both of them felt.

Brian tore his gaze away first, sliding into the car beside Clarissa. He told himself it was nothing. That she was nothing. Just a face in the crowd he keeps on running into.

And yet, as the car pulled away, he realized with a jolt of irritation and something darker, more dangerous that he was already wondering when he would see her again.

"Hopefully soon".

The hum of the diner was almost comforting, a steady blend of clinking plates, chatter, and the hiss of the coffee machine. To Alice, it was the sound of routine the rhythm of her second life after classes. But tonight, even the familiar noise did little to ease the weariness pressing down on her. Her feet ached in her worn sneakers, her apron bore faint coffee stains no matter how often she washed it, and her back screamed for rest.

She shoved a tray across the counter, balancing a plate of sandwiches for a group of freshmen who'd been laughing so loudly she envied their carefree joy. Then she grabbed her order pad, ready to move on to the next table.

"Excuse me"

The voice was crisp, sharp enough to cut. Alice froze. Slowly, she turned and her stomach dropped.

Clarissa.

The same blonde who had slipped her arm through Brian's at school, the girl from the gala . She sat in a booth near the window, posture perfect, chin lifted with effortless arrogance. Two other girls flanked her, both equally polished, their nails gleaming as they tapped against their phones. Clarissa didn't need to say anything to command attention. The way she scanned the diner, lips curled ever so slightly, said it all: she thought the place and the people in it were beneath her.

Alice gripped her order pad tighter, pushing down the flicker of unease in her chest. "Can I get you something?" she asked, polite but clipped.

Clarissa's eyes slid over her with deliberate slowness, taking in the apron, the scuffed shoes, the stray strands of hair that had slipped from Alice's ponytail. Then, with a small, knowing smile, she spoke.

"Yes. I'll have a salad. No dressing. And water. Sparkling, if you have it." Her gaze swept the diner, and then back to Alice. "Though judging by... this place" she gestured vaguely to the cracked vinyl seats and sticky tables "I won't get my hopes up."

Her friends laughed softly, the sound like nails scratching glass.

Alice's cheeks heated, but she forced herself to nod. "I'll see what I can do." She turned quickly, eager to put distance between them before her voice betrayed the sting she felt.

But then

"Clarissa. What a surprise."

The words floated in like a breeze, edged with mischief.

Sophie.

Alice blinked as her best friend slid into the booth opposite Clarissa without so much as a glance for permission. Sophie tossed her designer bag onto the seat beside her and leaned back, her sharp brown eyes locked on Clarissa like she'd been waiting for this moment.

Clarissa's smile faltered. "Sophie. I didn't know you frequented... places like this." Her tone dripped with disdain.

Sophie arched a brow. "Unlike you, I don't get nosebleeds if I breathe the same air as normal people." She reached for the sugar bowl on the table, stirring it into the black coffee Clarissa hadn't touched. Then she glanced up at Alice, flashing her a quick grin. "Hey, babe, don't let Queen Iceberg here get to you. She's allergic to humility."

Alice's lips twitched despite the heat crawling up her neck. Typical Sophie, bold, sharp, and completely unafraid of making enemies.

Clarissa's friends snickered, this time less out of loyalty and more out of nervous amusement. Clarissa's jaw tightened, her cheeks blooming a dangerous pink.

"You've always been a nuisance," Clarissa hissed.

"And you've always been boring," Sophie replied sweetly, propping her chin on her hand. "Some things never change."

The words hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite. The tension in the booth thickened, pulling Alice in even though she wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Clarissa leaned forward slightly, her tone dropping lower. "Careful, Sophie. Not everyone has the patience for your... theatrics."

"Oh, don't flatter me," Sophie said, her smile dazzling. "I save my theatrics for the stage. This?" She gestured between them. "This is me being generous."

The girls at Clarissa's side shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught between loyalty and the magnetic pull of Sophie's confidence.

Alice cleared her throat softly, stepping in before the clash escalated. "I'll get your order," she murmured, retreating toward the counter.

Her hands trembled as she poured water into a plain glass, no sparkling, obviously. She focused on the task, willing herself not to dwell on Clarissa's words. Don't let her under your skin, she told herself. She doesn't matter.

But the truth was, Clarissa did matter. Not because of who she was, but because she was with Brian.

A hand slipped around her arm, warm and steady. Sophie.

"You okay?" she asked, voice softer now.

Alice nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just... didn't expect that."

Sophie's lips pressed into a thin line. "She thrives on making people feel small. It's her favorite sport." Then her eyes softened, and she gave Alice's arm a squeeze. "But you're not alone, got it? Let her try her games, she's not half as powerful as she thinks."

Alice managed a small smile. Sophie had a way of making the world feel a little less heavy.

Together, they walked back to the booth. Alice set the salad and glass of water down in front of Clarissa without a word. Clarissa raised one perfectly arched brow, tapping a manicured nail against the rim of the plain glass.

"No sparkling?" she asked coolly.

Alice forced a polite smile. "Unfortunately, no."

Clarissa's lips curved in mock sympathy. "Of course not."

Before Alice could respond, Sophie leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "Funny thing, Clarissa, water's still water. Whether it bubbles or not, it won't make you any less bitter."

The girls at the table burst into muffled laughter, quickly stifled when Clarissa shot them a glare sharp enough to cut.

Alice fought back a laugh, biting her lip as she retreated again. Sophie winked at her before turning back to Clarissa, as if daring her to say more.

But Clarissa only lifted her fork delicately, her face a mask of icy composure. She didn't look at Alice again, though the weight of her presence lingered like a shadow.

From the counter, Alice watched them in silence. Her chest was tight, her thoughts tangled. Clarissa's cruelty didn't surprise her, it was the kind of disdain Alice had faced before, from people who thought they were above her. What unsettled her was the reminder that Clarissa wasn't just another entitled girl. She was Brian's fiancée.

And that made the sting sharper than anything Clarissa had said.

Alice sighed, rubbing her temple. Sophie caught her gaze and mouthed, She's nothing.

Alice wanted to believe her. She really did. But as she wiped down the counter, her mind betrayed her, circling back to Brian, his half smile, the way his eyes had lingered on her earlier, and that fleeting moment when it had almost felt like she mattered.

She shook her head quickly, forcing the thought away. It was foolish. Dangerous. Brian Carter was untouchable. And Clarissa was proof of that.

Still, a quiet ache lingered in her chest, one she couldn't quite name.