The air smelled like wealth and warning. St. Arthelios Institute stood like a cathedral of power, wrapped in ivy and silence, far too pristine for the kind of students it held inside.
My boots hit the polished floor with too much honesty—Russian leather on marble—and I was already drawing looks. Everyone here had their bloodline stitched into their uniform. I didn't need to ask who they were. Their eyes told the story—sharp, bored, and hungry.
"Lost?" a voice said behind me, smooth like velvet over a knife.
I turned, met with a half-smile and ocean-blue eyes.
"Or are you just pretending to be innocent?" he added.
The boy was tall, with chestnut curls and a charming energy that could melt steel. He extended a hand like we were old friends at a masquerade.
"Lorenzo. But people call me Ren. Son of the Ruzzini family—you know, smugglers with class."
I took his hand, just for show. "Isla."
"Ah, the new heiress," he said, eyes twinkling. "You'll like it here. It's like a royal zoo. Except the animals wear Gucci and plot murder over espresso."
Before I could reply, the hallway shifted. Conversations paused. Heads turned.
He was coming.
Arthur Gray.
He moved like someone who didn't need to rush—because the world adjusted to his pace. Jet-black hair slightly tousled, grey eyes unreadable. Perfect posture. Perfect uniform. Perfect silence. He didn't acknowledge anyone, but somehow everyone noticed him.
"Speak of the devil," Ren whispered. "That's the one they warn you about before they hand you your schedule."
He looked around and our eyes locked.
Not in passing. Not by accident.
Deliberate. Icy. Measured.
It lasted just a second—but it hit like a punch wrapped in velvet. The kind of look that strips the air from your lungs, not because it's soft… but because it's loaded.
He didn't smile. Didn't blink.
Just kept walking—like locking eyes with me had cost him nothing. Like I was just a shadow on his marble floor.
But I didn't move either. I stood taller.
Arthur Gray.
We weren't strangers. But we weren't anything else, either.
I'd seen him years ago—once, twice. Always across crowded rooms filled with smoke and secrets. Our families had made sure we were never in the same place too long. I was the Durova girl with the cold eyes. He was the Gray heir with the quiet violence. We didn't speak. Just glanced. And always, always looked away.
But this time… neither of us did.
I hated how different he was now.
Eighteen. Composed like a threat in a suit. That boy from the past—the one I'd only half-remembered with scuffed shoes and reckless smirks—he was gone. Buried. Replaced by someone carved out of silence and steel.
And I hated even more how some stupid part of me felt it.
The shift. The weight. The war I'd just stepped into.
Ren let out a low whistle beside me. "And that was the infamous Arthur Gray," he muttered. "How's it feel being sized up like an enemy on your first day?"
I didn't answer.
Because the truth was, it didn't feel like I was being sized up.
It felt like I was already in the ring ready to fight. And it wasn't like anyone in this school didn't know our background family rivals on next turn drop on our generation.
Silence turned up all around it was like everyone was as anticipating to see which one of us was gonna throw a rack at the other.
Damn any other punishment would've been better than standing here today especially face to face with him!
Either way I couldn't let myself look soft especially now.
I smiled. The venom kind.
"Didn't think you'd be this tall" I said sounding casually, eyes flicking over him.
"Guess arrogance really adds a few inches"
He didn't blink as if he was studying me.
"Didn't think you'd talk first." He replied blankly. " I heard Durovas only speak when they're loosing." He added with a short quick smirk that disappeared.
The hallway got colder. Students paused, sensing the moment. While I was the edge of my patience from punching him. I couldn't loose especially now in words of war in front of everyone, not a chance.
"Must be hard" I said, stepping closer.
"Knowing the girl you're supposed to ruin might out rank you by the midterm finals"
I threw back the ball, knowing that it had hit him pretty well though he wasn't gonna show it.
At that's where whispers began, everyone gossiping already. I always knew Mr. Cold eyes was always on top. Hence making his legacy more stronger, but not this time when am here he won't stand a chance.
Before things could get tensed up the bell rang, Class time.