Keeley took a deep breath. She tried to slide the heavy fabric off her shoulders to hand it back to Holland.

Holland moved faster. He raised his hands, his long fingers naturally grasping the lapels of the jacket.

He pulled the fabric together at the center of her chest, completely blocking the cold air from hitting her neck.

As he did this, the rough pads of his thumbs brushed deliberately against the sensitive skin of her neck.

A sharp jolt of electricity shot down Keeley's spine. Her body gave a violent jerk.

The extreme cold air, combined with her highly strung nerves, suddenly sent a sharp tickle up her nasal cavity.

Her eyes widened in horror. She tried to cover her nose and mouth, but it was too late.

"Achoo!"

Keeley let out a loud, uncontrollable sneeze.

Because they were standing so close, she sneezed almost directly onto Holland's expensive custom dress shirt.

The lecture hall plunged into a deathly silence. Even the professors in the front row stopped breathing.

From the corner of her eye, Keeley could see Emilee leaning forward in her seat, a cold, expectant smirk twisting her features as she waited for her junior to be thrown out by the distinguished guest.

Keeley's face burned a furious red. She wanted to dig a hole in the floor and bury herself alive.

She stumbled back a step, stammering out a frantic apology, desperate to use this disaster to draw a line between them.

Holland suddenly looked down and let out a low, magnetic chuckle.

The sound of his genuine amusement shattered the frozen atmosphere. Everyone stared in disbelief.

He calmly pulled a dark gray silk handkerchief from his trousers pocket.

He didn't hand it to Keeley. Instead, he raised his hand and wiped the tip of her nose with an agonizingly intimate gesture.

Keeley jerked her head away as if she had been burned by his touch.

A collective, suppressed gasp echoed through the lecture hall. The silence that followed was so thick it felt suffocating, as hundreds of students stared in sheer disbelief at the shockingly gentle act. Professor Alistair awkwardly cleared his throat, desperately trying to break the bizarre tension. He adjusted his glasses and cautiously asked Holland if he knew the student.

Keeley's heart slammed against her ribs. She was terrified he was going to announce their ugly past to the entire room.

Holland slowly folded the handkerchief and put it away. He turned to face the audience.

He looked at Professor Alistair and gave a very natural, negative answer.

Then, he dropped a bomb. He stated that he had been tracking a genius open-source project on GitHub.

He accurately named the core algorithm module Keeley had just pushed to the repository last night.

Using highly technical industry jargon, Holland praised her coding logic to a level that could change the entire tech ecosystem.

Finally, he looked directly into Keeley's eyes. He leaned into the microphone and declared in a low voice that he was an admirer of her academic work.

The room erupted into whispers. The mocking looks instantly turned into extreme jealousy and awe.

Keeley didn't need to turn around to know that Emilee's smirk had completely frozen. The heavy, rigid silence from the back row was palpable, a stark contrast to her senior's earlier arrogance.

Keeley stared at Holland in disbelief. He was a liar, a monster who was pushing her onto a pedestal just to trap her.

From an angle no one else could see, Holland raised an eyebrow at Keeley. His eyes clearly said: You can't escape.

The moment the lecture ended, Keeley yanked the suit jacket off her shoulders and clutched it tightly in her hand.

She kept her head down and merged into the moving crowd, walking as fast as she could toward the side exit.

Just as she was about to step through the doors, a massive, oppressive figure blocked her path.

Keeley slammed on the brakes. She looked up and crashed straight into Holland's half-smiling eyes.

Right then, Emilee squeezed through the crowd, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face.

Emilee held out her gold-embossed resume with both hands, trying to engage Holland in a conversation about industry trends.

Holland didn't even blink. His gaze remained deadlocked on Keeley.

An event organizer's aide stepped in instantly, using a polite but firm stance to physically block Emilee away, redirecting her back to the student section.

Emilee stood frozen with her resume in the air. The students around them threw her mocking glances.

Holland ignored everything around him. He held out his large, long-fingered hand toward Keeley.

Using a tone that allowed zero room for argument, he told Keeley to take out her phone and add him on LinkedIn.

Keeley gripped the straps of her backpack tightly. She coldly refused, saying she would dry-clean the jacket and mail it to his company.

Holland leaned in slightly. "I want to discuss your open-source code," he said, his voice dropping to a volume only she could hear.

Keeley gritted her teeth and lied. She said she got a new phone and hadn't downloaded the LinkedIn app yet.

Holland let out a short laugh. "Did you really think the university's emergency contact registry was secure from the man funding their new cybersecurity lab?" His thin lips parted, and he accurately recited a ten-digit phone number. It was Keeley's highly private, brand-new number she had just changed last week.

A chill ran down Keeley's spine. Her fingers tightened around the jacket. He'd found her again. Of course he had.

Holland ordered her to open iMessage and add him right now.

The students in the hallway stopped walking. They looked at Keeley with envious eyes, wishing a tech giant would beg for their contact info.

Crushed by the psychological pressure and the public audience, Keeley's trembling hand reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She tried to lock the screen, but Holland was faster.

The second the screen lit up, Holland reached out and snatched the device right out of her hand.

Keeley let out a gasp. She tried to grab it back, but he easily blocked her with his forearm.

Holding her phone in one hand, Holland's long thumb swiped rapidly across the screen.

He navigated straight to her Settings and opened the Blocked Contacts list.

At the very bottom of the long list, a contact named "HK" sat quietly.

A dangerous curve appeared on the corner of Holland's mouth. He tapped 'Unblock'.

Then, he pulled out his own phone and dialed the number. Keeley's phone immediately started vibrating in his hand.

Satisfied, Holland ended the call and shoved the phone back into Keeley's stiff fingers.

He gave her a deeply meaningful look. "See you soon," he said.

Surrounded by the lingering awe of the students, he turned and walked away with unhurried, predatory grace.

Keeley looked down at the glowing screen. A new message from HK popped up: Hi, again.

Her throat closed up. She couldn't breathe.

Keeley dragged her heavy legs into her dorm room. A wave of extreme weakness washed over her.

The freezing temperature of the lecture hall, combined with the violent emotional whiplash, had completely broken her immune system.

She didn't even have the energy to change her clothes. She crawled straight into bed and wrapped herself tightly in a thick wool blanket.

Her forehead was burning hot. Her head throbbed as if someone was taking a hammer to her skull.

The phone on her nightstand suddenly let out a harsh vibration. The screen lit up the dark corner.

It was an iMessage from HK, asking if she had taken her temperature yet.

Keeley stared at the screen. She bit down on her cracked lips and refused to reply.

Five minutes later, the phone buzzed again. A second message from HK: Medicine is in your jacket pocket. Take it.

Keeley froze. She forced herself to sit up and reached for the suit jacket she had dumped at the foot of the bed. Her fingers brushed against a small cardboard box tucked inside the outer pocket. Cold medicine.

Holland must have slipped it in when he grabbed her phone—or when he shoved the device back into her hand. She had been too shocked to notice.

The realization of his absolute, suffocating infiltration made Keeley's stomach churn. She threw the box violently into the trash can.

She slammed the phone face down on the table and closed her eyes, trying to sleep off the fever.

Bang!

The dorm door was kicked open. Her roommate, Anjelica, walked in with three other girls.

They were carrying takeout bags and blasting deafening hip-hop music from a portable speaker.

Anjelica, still seething with visible jealousy over the fact that Holland had completely ignored her own attempts to make eye contact during the lecture, sat down at her desk. She smashed her fingers onto her mechanical keyboard, deliberately cranking up the volume and screaming into her headset while playing a video game.

The noise pierced Keeley's throbbing brain. She weakly poked her head out from under the blanket.

"Can you please turn it down a little?" Keeley asked, her voice raw and scratchy. "I'm sick."

Anjelica stopped typing. She spun her chair around, her eyes flashing with a petty, vindictive gleam as she let out a loud, mocking sneer.

"You loved the attention at the lecture today, Keeley," Anjelica yelled over the music. "Don't act all fragile now just because you're back in the dorm."

The other girls erupted into harsh, grating laughter.

Keeley's body shook with anger, but the high fever robbed her of the strength to fight back.

She pulled the blanket over her head in despair. Her violent coughing was completely drowned out by the video game sound effects.

Suffocating in the dark under the wool, Keeley realized she could not survive in this toxic environment for another day.

She fumbled for her phone, turned the brightness all the way down, and opened a cheap NYC rental website.

She scrolled through the sketchy, rundown listings deep in Brooklyn, far away from Manhattan.

Looking at the depressing photos and the still-exorbitant rent prices, her eyes burned with tears of sheer helplessness.

Just then, a banner notification dropped down from HK: Ignoring my texts. You must be really sick.

That arrogant, controlling taunt was the final straw.

Keeley pressed her thumb hard against the power button and completely shut the phone off. She severed all connections.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood in the dark, swearing to herself that she would crawl out of here tomorrow morning to look for an apartment.