It was Monday already—three days after my… unforgettable night with that stranger. The physical soreness had finally faded, replaced by a lingering, restless anxiety that made every shadow look like a tall man in a tailored suit. Justine and I were walking toward our main lecture hall, the morning air crisp, when I noticed the shift in the atmosphere. People were staring. Not just the usual quick glances, but intense, wide-eyed gawking. Some girls were blushing furiously; others were huddled in tight circles, whispering with frantic energy.
"Why are they looking at us like that? Do I have something on my face?" I muttered, pulling my hoodie tighter.
"Are you sure it's us, or someone else? You're not that famous, Aiden," Justine scoffed, though she looked around with growing curiosity.
"OMG! What are they doing in our faculty?" a girl nearby murmured, her voice breathless. "I can't believe it… they look like movie stars."
"They came to meet their brother, who's in this faculty," another whispered. "Can you imagine having genes like that?"
My stomach dropped into my shoes. A cold sweat broke out across my neck. I turned, following the direction of the crowd's collective gaze, and froze mid-step. My hands went numb; the heavy stack of textbooks I was carrying slipped from my grip, hitting the pavement with a dull thud.
"Shit… it's him," I whispered, the world tilting on its axis.
"Who? The guy from the—" Justine started, then her jaw hit the floor.
Walking through the quad like they owned the very air we breathed were three men. They moved with a synchronized, dangerous elegance, flanked by a wall of stern-faced security. At the center was Damien. He looked even more lethal in the daylight, wearing a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my tuition. They passed by the student body like we were ghosts, like I didn't even exist.
"What?!" Justine exclaimed, her voice far too loud. "That's the guy? He looks like a billionaire hitman!"
"I… let's just leave. Now," I whispered, scrambling to pick up my books. My heart was hammering against my ribs so hard it hurt.
"Which one of them is it?" she hissed, trying to peek over my shoulder.
"I don't know… I mean, I do, but just keep your head down!" I muttered. "I don't think he recognized me. Why would he?"
But before we could make a break for the side exit, a voice—deep, resonant, and far too familiar—sliced through the noise of the quad.
"Aiden!"
The sound of my name felt like a physical weight. I stopped dead. I glanced at Justine, who looked torn between pure horror and a bizarre kind of fascination. "Should we run?" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
"With those guards? We wouldn't make it ten feet," I muttered back.
Damien walked straight toward me. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. He didn't look at the students filming with their phones or the professors stopping in their tracks; his eyes were locked on mine with a terrifying focus. Behind him, two other men—twins, Charles and Charlie—watched with amused, knowing expressions.
"You heard me right?" Damien asked as he stopped inches from me, his presence instantly dwarfing mine.
"Good morning, sir," I muttered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I felt like a deer staring at a sleek, black tiger.
"Are you done with your classes?" he asked, completely ignoring my attempt at a formal greeting.
"Erm… no. I have a lab in ten minutes," I stammered.
Damien's gaze shifted briefly to Justine, who looked like she'd forgotten how to breathe. "And you? Are you his keeper for the day?"
"Yes, sir! I mean, no, sir. We were just heading home… early!" she fibbed, practically tripping over her words.
"Then let's leave together. I'll drop him off," Damien said, turning to his brothers as if it were a settled matter.
A collective gasp went up from the onlookers. I could practically hear the social media posts being typed: Who is the blond guy? Are they dating? Is he a Lawson? Charlie, the one with the slightly more mischievous glint in his eye, smirked at Damien. "So, that's your new boy in the faculty? You have interesting taste, brother."
"No idea what you're talking about," Charles replied with a shrug, though he was clearly enjoying the spectacle.
I tapped Justine's arm, whispering fiercely, "You're dead when we get home for lying like that."
Justine groaned, looking at the guards. "I hope you survive this first. Good luck, soldier."
As Damien led me toward a line of idling black SUVs, he noticed me frantically texting. "Who are you chatting with?"
"My friend," I mumbled, my fingers flying across the screen.
"Justine?" he guessed, not even looking at my phone.
"Yeah… wait, how do you know her name? And how do you know where I study?" I asked, my voice rising in panic.
"It's no big deal. I make it my business to know things," Damien said, a smirk playing on his lips. "We came to pick up our brother today, so he wouldn't bail on us."
"Bail on you… to where?" I asked, feeling a sense of impending doom.
"To Japan," he replied casually, opening the car door for me.
"Japan?!" I yelped, stopping at the threshold of the vehicle. "I have classes tomorrow! I have a life! This is… this is abduction! What about my business? My café?"
My phone rang right then. It was Ken, my assistant manager. "Hey, Ken… what's up?"
"Oh, hey Aiden! We were just told by some official-looking guys that you wouldn't be around for a week. They said it was an emergency leave. Hope you're okay, sir!" Ken said, sounding surprisingly chipper.
"A week…?" I muttered, the blood draining from my face.
"Yeah…" Damien's voice cut through as he took the phone from my hand and ended the call. He leaned in, his face inches from mine, the mask of the "casual stranger" finally dropping. "I'm Damien Smith, Aiden. And I know exactly who you are. I know about your family, I know about your debt, and I know you're a Lawson."
Furious and terrified, I tried to shove him back. "You're really annoying! Stop this car! I'm not going anywhere with you!" I yelled, tugging desperately at the locked door handle as the SUV began to move.
An hour later, defeated and exhausted from yelling, I finally calmed down as we arrived at the private airfield.
The city had whizzed by in a blur of gray and neon, and as I looked at the sleek private jet waiting on the tarmac, I realized there was no turning back. I wasn't just a student anymore, and I wasn't just a heartbroken guy from a club. I was a pawn in Damien's world now—and he was playing for keeps.