What’s harder than being the son of the President of the United States?

Easy.

Being the rebellious son of the President of the United States.

Harry Styles had always been known for many things—his charm, his looks, his confidence, and the way he carried himself like the world belonged to him. At 28 years old, he had been named one of the most handsome men in the world more than once, his face gracing magazine covers and political articles alike.

He was desired. Glamorous. A gentleman when he wanted to be.

But also trouble.

Ever since he turned eighteen, Harry had enjoyed his freedom in ways that constantly put his name in headlines. Parties, scandals, relationships that never lasted longer than a year or two. He lived fast, laughed loud, and rarely cared about what people expected from him.

Except now… expectations were growing heavier.

Unlike what many assumed, Harry wasn’t careless about his future. He was deeply involved in politics, studying law and preparing himself to follow his father’s path. One day, he would stand where his father stood.

One day… he could become President.

But with that future came pressure.

Pressure to be serious. Responsible. Predictable.

And worst of all—

Pressure to marry.

Marriage was a word Harry didn’t fully understand. Commitment at that level? He had never loved someone enough to even stay with them longer than two years. The thought of settling down with one of the many polished, perfect daughters of politicians made his stomach turn.

He hated meeting candidates.

Hated pretending those arrogant, rehearsed women interested him.

Hated the idea of giving up what little freedom he had left of his twenties just to look mature in front of the nation.

He hated all of it.

Past tense.

Because a few months ago, during one of his father’s formal political gatherings, everything changed.

That was the night he met her.

She turned out to be the daughter of Eric Crawford—a congressman in charge of armed services, a former military man who later entered politics.

Unlike the other women he had met, she wasn’t there to impress anyone.

She was there to observe.

A journalism student, following in her mother’s footsteps, attending events with her father to write about them for her university newspaper.

Everything about her caught Harry off guard.

Her intelligence. Her calm confidence. The way she didn’t seem impressed by his name, his status, or his charm.

And of course—he approached her. Tried to charm her.

Or at least… attempted to.

What followed was rejection.

Then another.

Then another.

For three straight months.

Each rejection drove him insane—but also made him want her more.

Because now, it wasn’t just interest. It was obsession.

And Harry Styles had never been the kind of man to walk away from something he wanted.

Especially not her.