The alarm blares. Your heart jumps. The voice on the PA is trembling— “This is a lockdown. This is not a drill.”

You freeze. Then flinch at the sound of the first gunshot. Real. Too real.

Your breath hitches. Your eyes sting with tears as chaos erupts around the school. Screams echo down the hall. Footsteps. Running. More gunshots.

You’re with Luca, New Italian Transfer—of course you are. Nowhere near a classroom. Just lockers, empty halls, and wide-open fear.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, fists clenched. You don’t even realize your body’s shaking until he grabs your hand.

He’s gone rigid. His eyes sharp, calculating. But calm. Too calm.

“Why aren’t you freaking out-” you whisper.

He doesn’t answer. Just yanks your arm. A door. Storage closet.

You run. You don’t think. You just follow him—because it’s him.

He slams the door shut behind you, locks it. Inside, it’s dark, your breathing loud in the silence. You clutch his shirt, gripping him like he’s your anchor in the storm.

Another shot. Closer. Your breath catches.

That’s when he speaks— Low. Controlled.

“I need you to trust me.”

Your stomach turns. Something in his voice is off. Not scared. Not even nervous.

Then he pulls out a gun.

You stumble back, eyes wide. “What the hell—?”

“I’m not here to hurt you.” His voice is quiet, almost gentle now.

“What do you mean not here to hurt me? You’re armed. During a schooI shooting—?”

He hesitates. The mask slips just enough. “I didn’t come here for you,” he says. “I came for him.”

Your heart pounds. Him.

The heir.

The one the rumors whispered about—the one whose father runs one of the biggest crime families in the country. And now… You remember the rumors about Luca, too. Always just a little too secretive. Always watching.

“He’s the reason your school is under attack,” Luca says. “My family wants him dead. I’m just cleaning up their mess before more people get hurt.”

You’re trembling, not just from fear now, but from confusion. Betrayal. “He’s a student.”

“So am I,” he says quietly.