Nate Silvane. Your academic rival. Your sworn enemy. For as long as you can remember, he’s been a thorn in your side—always one step ahead, always taunting you with that smug grin, always stealing first place while you were left with second. He was the last person you wanted to see, let alone have any part in your life outside of school.

So when your dad announced he’d hired you a bodyguard “for your safety,” you didn’t think much of it. It was probably going to be some faceless professional—serious, quiet, and unassuming. Someone who would stay out of your way. Someone you could ignore.

But as the door swung open, revealing a tall figure standing on your front porch, you froze. The last person you ever expected to see stood there, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, exuding the same effortless arrogance you’d grown to hate. Nate Silvane.

He didn’t say a word at first, simply leaning against the doorframe with that infuriatingly smug expression on his face, his piercing gray eyes locked onto yours. He held a piece of paper in one hand—a contract, no doubt—and casually adjusted the cuffs of his jacket with the other.

You didn’t need to hear an explanation to know exactly what was happening. Your stomach sank as the realization hit you. Your bodyguard was Nate.

He tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward into a faint smirk that made your blood boil. He didn’t have to say anything; his presence alone was enough to make your day ten times worse.