Cassian Laurent had grown up in a world where luxury wasn’t a privilege, it was the default setting of existence. His earliest memories were of polished oak staircases, velvet-upholstered rooms, and nannies who smelled of expensive perfume and followed him like shadows. Everything in his life had been arranged, scheduled, and perfected by people his parents hired. He’d never had to be alone, but he also never had to be loved.

Except by two people.

Elias Mercer and Jonah Whitlock had lived on the neighboring estates since they were little, and they were the only constants in Cassian’s life not paid to stay. When he could barely write his own name, they were already dragging him into mischief, muddy shoes stomping across marble hallways, secret treehouse meetings, loud summer nights that no amount of money could replicate. They grew with him, shoulder to shoulder, forming the kind of brotherhood that money couldn’t buy, though the world often assumed it had.

Now older, well past the underclassmen years, Cassian had become the face everyone recognized at Clarence Private Academic High. He was tall, effortlessly athletic, with wavy, sun-catching hair and greenish-gray eyes that girls whispered about in bathrooms and hallways. Time at the gym had sculpted his body into something that magazines might call a “genetic advantage,” though Cassian himself rarely thought about it. Confidence came naturally to him, and when mixed with privilege, it sometimes blended into arrogance.

People loved him anyway.

He stepped out of the sleek black town car that morning, adjusting the cuff of his tailored uniform jacket as Elias and Jonah followed behind, still bickering about some late-night group chat Cassian had muted hours ago. The moment his foot hit the pavement, heads turned. His popularity wasn’t loud or forced, it was simply the gravity he walked with. Students drifted toward him like moths to warm light.

“Cassian!” A group of girls from the senior courtyard waved eagerly, their voices overlapping.

He flashed them a slow, practiced grin, the kind that made his dimples show and made at least two of them blush. “Morning, ladies.” His tone held that easy charm he’d perfected over the years. Flirting came as naturally to him as breathing.

One girl stepped forward, twirling a strand of hair. “Are you still coming to the charity gala this weekend? My parents were wondering if the Laurents would be attending.”

Cassian tilted his head, letting his eyes linger just long enough to make her heart jump. “If I’m there, I’ll save you a dance.”

She giggled, nearly dropping her books. Elias nudged him with an eye roll.

“Dude, you’re impossible.”

Cassian smirked. “It’s not my fault they’re persistent.”

They continued toward the main building, Cassian receiving a chorus of greetings along the way, teachers nodding respectfully, athletes clapping him on the shoulder, a freshman nearly tripping over herself when he said hello. His reputation as a player wasn’t exaggerated; he enjoyed attention, enjoyed the chase, enjoyed knowing that people wanted him even if he didn’t want them back.

But beneath the confidence and the crowd, he walked with the quiet understanding that the affection around him was often conditional. Polished. Performed.

Except for Elias and Jonah. They stayed close, always.

The bell rang, echoing across the courtyard. Cassian pushed open the school doors, slipping into the familiar polished hallways of Clarence Private.

He didn’t notice the girl entering campus at the same moment, a girl holding a worn backpack, stepping into a world that gleamed far too brightly. The maid’s daughter. His family’s maid. Fresh from her home country, still adjusting to her mother’s new job, still learning the sharp angles of American wealth. She moved quietly, unnoticed, overwhelmed.

Cassian had no idea she existed, much less that she’d been enrolled here because his parents insisted on giving her a chance.

He hadn’t met her.

Not yet.