Collin adjusted his tie in front of the mirror, a concerned expression on his face. His uniform was pristine as usual, but his mind was busy. He hadn't seen Bridget in school yesterday. She rarely missed a day, which bothered him. Bridgette, the fierce, impenetrable queen of their academy, never skipped class without a reason. And that reason made him anxious.
He was aware of what people were saying about her. He understood how she treated Anabella, and how her cutting words could injure anyone who dared to confront her. But deep down, there was still the girl he had grown up with—the girl who would cling to him in times of fear, tell him her favorite stories, and once cried on his shoulder when her mother left. That girl must be hidden somewhere within her, right?
Sighing, he grabbed his bag and headed downstairs. His driver was already waiting, the sleek black car gleaming under the morning sun. As he slid into the backseat, his fingers hovered over his phone. He could text her, ask if she was okay. But would she even respond?
Before he could decide, the car pulled away from the estate, leaving his thoughts tangled in uncertainty.
Lucien sat in his father's grand study, the scent of aged leather and whiskey saturating the air. The towering bookshelves loomed, filled with knowledge neither of them had ever cared to read. At the center of the room sat Victor Deveraux, a man of absolute control, feared by his enemies.
Victor was a mirror of Lucien, only older, sharper. The same midnight-black hair, though streaked with silver now. The same piercing silver-blue eyes that bore into Lucien like a blade searching for weakness.
"I received word from the board," Victor said, swirling his whiskey. "They think it's time you step up, Lucien. Time to take your rightful place."
Lucien didn't flinch. "I'm not interested."
Victor's grip tightened around the glass. "Not interested?" he echoed, his voice a razor's edge. "Tell me, boy, what is it that you do want? To play around at that academy while the world sees you as nothing more than a stray mutt? You're my son. The heir to this empire. You don't have the luxury of choice."
Lucien met his father's gaze with quiet defiance. "I never asked to be part of this family business. You built this empire on blood, and I refuse to become another cog in your machine."
A bitter laugh left Victor's lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "You sound just like your mother."
Lucien's fingers curled into fists. "Don't."
Victor ignored him. "She, too, wanted to escape. Thought she could take you and run, leave everything behind. But in the end, where did it get her?" His voice was cruel, mocking. "Dead."
Lucien shot up from his chair, rage burning through his veins. "You have no right to talk about her."
Victor smirked, leaning back with satisfaction. "Then prove me wrong, Lucien. Show me you're not weak."
Lucien stormed out, the heavy oak door slamming shut behind him. He strode through the halls of the Devereaux mansion, his breaths coming hard and fast. He stared at his hands. hands that carried the weight of his father's expectations, hands that would never be free of this bloodline. He flexed his fingers, then clenched them into fists.
He needed air. Needed to be anywhere but here.
As he walked through the grand estate, he glanced down at his hand—the same hand that had caught Bridgette yesterday. It still tingled, as if her warmth had left an imprint. He clenched it into a fist, trying to shake the memory away. She was nothing but another spoiled rich girl. So why did she linger in his mind?
In that the same morning, Bridgette sat at the grand dining table, sunlight filtering through the tall windows, illuminating the elegant spread before her. Across from her, Charles La Rue, her father, sipped his coffee and studied her with amused curiosity, set down his newspaper with a teasing smile.
"You seem different, my dear," he noted, setting his cup down. "Glowing, almost. Should I assume a certain young man is the cause?"
Bridgette blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Her father chuckled. "Collin, of course. If he makes you happy, I could speak with his family about arranging an engagement. You've been close since childhood."
Bridgette's grip tightened around her teacup. Memories surged... how she had once begged for this, how she had foolishly chased after Collin, how it had all ended in heartbreak. Not this time. She wouldn't make the same mistake.
She set her cup down, her voice steady. "That won't be necessary, Papa."
Charles raised a brow. "Oh?"
She nodded. "I'd rather focus on something else... our family business. I want to learn how to manage it properly."
Silence stretched between them. Her father studied her, as if seeing her for the first time. "You never cared about business before."
"I do now," she said simply. "I want to secure my future. And ours."
A slow smile spread across his face, pride flickering in his eyes. "Then I suppose I should start preparing you."
Bridgette finished the last sip of her tea and neatly placed the cup down. Her father, Charles, folded his newspaper and studied her with a thoughtful expression. "Leaving early, princess?"
Bridgette nodded as she set down her napkin. "Yes, Papa. I want to prepare early for school—and perhaps change some bad habits, too."
Charles chuckled, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "Well, whatever you do, just know that I will always be proud of you."
Bridgette's heart swelled. She stood and walked over to him, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Papa. That means a lot to me."
As she left, Charles watched her go, his chest tightening with nostalgia. She had grown so much. She really did take after her beloved mother.
Outside, Bridgette's driver stood by the sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom, ready for her command. "The car is ready, Miss Bridget."
Bridgette gave a curt nod, stepping inside with newfound determination. Today would mark the beginning of her new path. No more foolishness. No more wasted chances.
This time, she would take control of her own fate.
Bridgette exhaled, relief washing over her. This was her new path, her chance to change everything.
No more chasing after love. No more repeating past mistakes.