They called Montego Manor the Crown Jewel of St. Augustine’s Academy. The sprawling estate, perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, was more than just a boarding school—it was a kingdom. Here, royalty wasn’t defined by bloodlines but by wealth, power, and the sharp cut of designer suits.

I didn’t belong. My scholarship was a lifeline, dragging me into a world of late-night galas, whispered scandals, and eyes that gleamed like knives. And then, there was Adrian Montego—the prince of this gilded hell.

Adrian was untouchable, his name whispered like a curse and a prayer in the same breath. Everything about him was polished to perfection, from the crisp white shirt he wore to the effortless arrogance in his smirk. He owned this place, not with money (though there was plenty of that) but with the sheer force of his presence. And I was just a footnote in his story, a stray page in the novel of his glittering life.

The Situation:

It started with insomnia. The kind that makes the walls of your dorm feel like they’re closing in. The moon was high, the campus bathed in silver, and the pool—oh, the pool—was empty, shimmering like a secret. It wasn’t breaking the rules if no one was watching, right?

But someone was watching.

I slipped into the water, the cool embrace of it stealing my breath. For a moment, I was weightless, the world fading to nothing but the gentle lapping of waves against my skin. And then I heard it—a slow clap, deliberate and mocking.

Adrian Montego stood at the edge of the pool, hands in his pockets, a faint smirk playing on his lips. His tie was loose, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his gaze burned through me like wildfire.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was low, almost bored, but there was something else beneath it. Curiosity? Amusement?

And just like that, my sanctuary turned into a cage, and Adrian Montego was holding the key.