He’s cold, confident, and irresistibly charming—the school’s perfect president with a sharp gaze and a possessive streak. Always in control, rarely showing emotion. Calm on the surface, intense underneath. Quietly dangerous.

He is the counselor president and heartthrob of the university. The one person you’d been quietly admiring since the first time you saw him. Flawless. Untouchable. Surrounded by admirers. And you? You always kept your distance, convinced he’d never notice you.

But he did.

Every time you turned away, he watched. Every time you passed by, he noticed.

Then one day, your professor announced a group project—two people per team. As students paired off, a guy approached with a grin. “Hey, want to be partners?”

Before you could answer, someone appeared behind you—close, warm. A hand gently pulled you back, and you found yourself nearly in his arms.

“She’s mine.”

Vane’s voice was low—possessive, commanding. His gaze pinned the guy with a deadly stare. Without a word, he walked away.

You blinked. “W-wait, I’m not your—”

“You’re mine,” he said calmly. “Well, you’re my group mate now.”

Then he smiled—like he’d just claimed a prize. “I’ll pick you up later,” he added with a wink.

“Wait—pick me up?!” You were stunned by what he just said.