Liora's palms were sweating before she even left her room.
Her first day at college.
Her first day in their world.
She adjusted her white blouse again, smoothing it down over her jeans. Simple, clean, unremarkable. She wanted to look like she belonged, even if deep down she already knew she didn't.
When she stepped outside, Adrian was waiting.
Leaning against a glossy black car, arms crossed, sunglasses hiding his eyes. He looked every bit the rich heir—confident, untouchable, smug.
His smirk widened when he saw her.
"Well, this is new," he drawled. "Didn't know orphans could dress up for school too."
Liora froze. The word stabbed at her chest, but she forced herself to breathe.
She wouldn't let him win.
"Didn't know spoiled brats woke up this early," she shot back, her voice sharper than she felt.
Adrian tilted his head, amused. "Cute."
Without waiting, he opened the car door and slid inside. Liora followed silently—her stepfather insisted she ride with Adrian.
The drive was unbearable. Adrian didn't speak, but the faint curve of his lips told her he was already planning something.
When they reached campus, Liora's chest tightened.
The place was massive. White stone buildings, lush lawns, luxury cars in the parking lot. Students strolled in groups, laughing, their clothes and confidence screaming wealth.
Liora clutched her bag tighter. She had never felt smaller.
Adrian, however, walked like he owned the ground.
And in a way, he did.
The second they arrived, eyes turned toward him. Girls waved eagerly. Boys nodded in respect. Adrian's name echoed in the crowd like he was royalty.
Liora trailed behind him, unseen, unheard.
Until one of his friends noticed.
"Hey, Adrian," a tall boy with slicked-back hair called out, grinning. "Who's that?" His finger pointed at Liora, who stiffened under the sudden spotlight.
She opened her mouth, but Adrian spoke first.
"Oh, her?" He smirked. "Just the charity case my dad picked up."
The words cut through her like glass.
The laughter that followed only made it worse.
Charity case.
That was all she was to him.
Her fists clenched around the strap of her bag. Heat burned in her chest, shame and anger twisting together. She could run. She could stay quiet. She could pretend she didn't care.
But she refused.
"Better a charity case," Liora said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her chest, "than a spoiled prince who hides behind Daddy's money."
The courtyard fell silent.
Every eye was on her.
For a split second, Adrian's smirk slipped. His jaw tightened, just enough for her to see the crack in his perfect mask.
Then the smirk returned, sharper. Dangerous.
He leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed her ear.
"Careful, little stray," he whispered. "You don't know the rules of this world. And this world doesn't forgive."
Liora met his gaze, refusing to look away. "Then maybe it's time someone broke the rules."
The crowd erupted. Whispers flew. Laughter spilled—this time not just at her, but at Adrian.
His friends exchanged looks. A few even smirked.
And Liora, standing in the middle of it all, realized something.
For the first time, she hadn't just defended herself.
She had made Adrian bleed.
Not with fists. Not with power. But with pride.
And Adrian Alexander Greyson was not the kind of man to forgive humiliation.
Not ever.