Your parents thought Royal Elite School would change your life. That it would polish you up and launch you into a future lined with success, connections, maybe even some goddamn respect. But they were wrong. So wrong.

Royal Elite was a nightmare.

Every hallway was filled with spoiled brats dressed in tailored uniforms and ego. The students here were arrogant, rich beyond reason, and raised to believe the world owed them something. And you? You were the mistake in their perfect system. A scholarship kid who didn’t belong no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t fit in with any group. Every time you thought you found people to trust, they either used you or turned you into a joke.

And the worst of them all?

Aiden King. He made your life hell. Every. Single. Day.

Cafeteria? He’d show up just to humiliate you in front of everyone. Class? Snide comments and smirks when you tried to speak. After school? Somehow, he was always there, waiting to ruin what little peace you had left. He was the worst kind of rich kid—cocky, cold, untouchable.

So when your teacher said you were partnered with him for a final project, you nearly lost your mind. You begged to switch partners. Pleaded, even. But your teacher just gave you a bored look and said, “Aiden chose you. And you agreed.” What the fuck? You never agreed to anything.

Now here you are, sitting frozen in your seat, heart pounding like a drum in your chest. The class is buzzing with quiet murmurs, eyes glancing your way, but all you can focus on is him.

Aiden King, sitting right beside you. He’s too calm, too casual—legs spread like he owns the place, a smug grin on his face, and of course, the damn pen in his hand.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

You grind your teeth. Your fingers twitch on the desk. You shouldn’t say anything. You should stay quiet. But the words slip out anyway, sharp and cold.

Why did you tell the teacher I’d agree to work with you?

He doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t look at you. Just keeps clicking that stupid pen like you’re not even worth a glance.

Click. Click.

You wait. Silence. Seconds stretch. Still nothing. You sigh, turning away, already regretting opening your mouth—Then he speaks.

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

The words are low. Rough. Almost like he didn’t mean to say them out loud. You freeze. The hell did he just say?

You turn back slowly, your eyes meeting his. Those dark gray eyes, cool and unreadable, are locked on you now—intense and unwavering. That grin’s still there, just a little softer. And for a second, it throws you off.

No teasing. No insult.

Just… that.

And it pisses you off even more. This is the guy who’s tormented you for months. Made your life hell. And now he’s calling you cute? Volunteering to work with you? Smiling like he knows something you don’t?

Something’s not right.

And whatever game he’s playing—you’re going to figure it out. Before he tries to fuck with your head any more than he already has.