Rachel POV
The morning sun hit different when you had a closet full of clothes that didn't come from thrift stores.
I stepped out of my room wearing the outfit I'd put together with literal disbelief:
A soft cream sweater, new fitted jeans, clean white sneakers, and a subtle pink lip gloss I'd stared at for ten minutes before buying.
My hair actually looked decent, after using the card to shop for new conditioner and shampoo.
My backpack was spacious and made of real leather.
I looked like... a different girl than what the old Rachel usually wore to school.
I finally stepped out of the manor doors into the courtyard. A sleek black car waited out front with the driver standing beside it.
Behind it, another SUV held the five guards-trying way too hard to blend in with the simple casual clothes they'd been given.
Leo spotted me first.
"MAMA!" he shouted, practically bouncing as Damien held him steady by the shoulders. Damien was mid-conversation with the five men, but his gaze snapped to me immediately.
My heart warmed.
Leo waved both hands in the air like he was trying to signal an aeroplane.
Damien placed one large hand gently over Leo's to calm him, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward when he saw me.
Damn.
He noticed.
He noticed everything.
His gaze swept over me-slow, assessing-lingering a half-second too long on the gloss on my lips. He definitely noticed I dressed up a bit.
I pretended not to melt.
Leo ran toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"You look so pretty! Did you get new clothes?"
I laughed. "Yes, I ordered them over the weekend. But they came pretty fast."
"Papa bought it?" Leo added.
My eyes flicked to Damien.
His expression didn't change-but something warm flickered beneath the ice.
"Yes," I said softly. "Papa helped."
Leo beamed, proud as ever.
Damien finally spoke, voice low and steady.
"You ready for school?"
I lifted my brand-new backpack. "Ready."
He stepped a bit closer.
Close enough that I caught the faint scent of something cold and expensive.
"You'll have the driver, as promised. They'll drop you off at the main gate-not inside. I don't want attention drawn to you."
His eyes dropped again to my outfit.
Something unreadable passed through them.
"You look..."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"...better."
My cheeks warmed.
"Thanks," I muttered.
Leo tugged my sleeve. "Bring me snacks when you come back!"
"I'll try."
Damien raised a brow. "She's going to school, Leo."
Leo pouted dramatically. "But I want to try outside snacks."
I laughed and ruffled his hair.
The driver opened the door for me.
Damien's voice reached me just as I was about to step inside.
"Rachel."
I looked back.
His gaze held mine with quiet, undeniable intensity.
"If anything feels off..." his tone hardened, "...notify the guards immediately."
I swallowed. "I will."
He gave a single, slow nod.
Leo waved wildly.
"BYE MAMA!! LOVE YOUUU!"
I smiled back at them-at him-and climbed into the car.
As the engine started and the manor began to shrink behind us, I felt it:
For the first time since stepping into this world...
...I was allowed to breathe.
--
The driver dropped me at the main gate just like Damien instructed; smooth, quiet, clean exit.
From the outside, the campus looked painfully normal.
Students walked around with backpacks, coffee cups, loud laughter... all the things I hadn't experienced in weeks.
But the second I stepped through the gate?
Whispers.
Low at first.
Then sharper.
"Did you see the news last night?"
"It's the Montrel symbol again-"
"They said some girl was involved."
"Crazy. Imagine being there-"
I kept my head down.
My brand-new shoes suddenly felt way too loud against the pavement.
I pulled out my phone.
Damien had returned it cleaned, reset, and fully charged.
A notification banner popped up immediately:
BREAKING: Alley Clash Between Rival Groups - MONTREL Mark Found.
My stomach flipped.
I tapped it open.
Images.
Police tape.
Graffiti of the mark Damien carved.
Reporters speculating.
Rumors spiraling.
Victim statements suggest a young woman may have been present... though identity is unknown.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
They didn't know it was me.
Better keep it that way.
I shut off the screen quickly, shoving the phone into my pocket.
But before I could move, I heard it-
"Rachel?"
My spine went stiff.
I turned around slowly.
And there he was.
Eli Moreno.
My accidental crush.
Senior art major.
Tall, warm brown skin, soft curls falling over his forehead, sketchbook under his arm like he was born with it.
He blinked at me, confused relief on his face."Rachel? You're actually here-I thought you were sick or something."
His gaze dragged over my outfit, stopping on my lip gloss for a millisecond too long.
"...you look really different."
"Uh-yeah," I said awkwardly, my voice a little too high. "Just... a rough few weeks. Family stuff."
"Must have been some family stuff," he said, his eyes lingering on the quality of my sweater.
"You vanished. And now you come back looking like that." He stepped closer, lowering his voice with a teasing smirk. "So, what's the deal? You got some rich boyfriend keeping you busy?"
My eyes widened. I couldn't let him think I was unavailable. "What? No! No, it's nothing like that. I'm... I'm single." The word felt like a lie, but it was technically true.
Eli looked me up and down, his face unreadable before a slow, appreciative smirk appeared. "That's good to know."
A flutter of hope sparked in my chest. "Good?" I prompted, a shy smile touching my lips.
Before he could answer, my phone buzzed. A single text from an unknown number:
Unknown: Status? The individual you're with is not in our files. Advise.
My blood ran cold. The individual you're with. They were watching, and they didn't know who Eli was. I resisted the urge to scan the crowd for them.
Eli's smirk faded as he saw my face pale. "Everything okay?"
"Yep!" I said, too quickly, forcing a bright tone. "Just... a spam text." I needed to get this back on track, to grasp this one shred of my old life.
"So, uh... since I'm single and you think it's 'good'..." I took a small, nervous breath. "Would you want to get coffee after the lecture today? I mean, if you're not too busy?"
The shift was instant. Eli's friendly warmth evaporated. His posture straightened, and he took a subtle half-step back, creating a cold space between us.
"Sorry, Rachel," he said, his voice now flat and polite. "I'm busy." He sharply removed his hands from his pockets, the movement final and dismissive, completely at odds with the guy who'd been smirking seconds ago.
Before I could stammer a reply, he gave a tight, meaningless smile. "See you around."
He turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hall, the heat of embarrassment rushing to my cheeks. I felt like a fool. Of course, my stupid, adolescent advances wouldn't move him. Did my new look somehow make me look desperate? Or was it something else?
I sighed, the brief illusion of normalcy shattering around me. This kind of hope was a liability. It got you noticed, and it got you hurt.
And in my world, getting noticed was the most dangerous thing of all.
