The rain never really stopped at Ravenshade Academy. It came and went like a habit, dripping from the ancient stone towers, turning the iron gates slick with silver light. The campus was beautiful, but cruel — marble floors, ivy walls, and students who wore power like a second uniform.

Gabrielle Serenity fit into it perfectly. Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. The Serenity heiress — flawless posture, perfect grades, and a reputation untouched by scandal. Her uniform was always pressed, her dark hair always pinned neatly, and her face carried that calm, porcelain stillness that made people stare and stay away at the same time.

But behind that stillness was something no one could name. The trembling hands when her brother didn’t show up to class. The way her eyes lingered on the rooftop whenever she passed by. The panic she hid beneath a calm breath whenever she heard laughter from the locker rooms — laughter that wasn’t kind.

Her twin brother, Alex Serenity, wasn’t built for a place like Ravenshade. He was gentle, awkward, the kind who spent lunch in the library and apologized for existing. He didn’t fight back. He never did. And that made him an easy mark.

For Dominic Russo.

Dominic wasn’t like the other students — he didn’t need grades or charm or teachers’ approval. He was heir to the Russo name — son of a drug lord whose empire stretched farther than the law dared to look. At Ravenshade, his word carried more weight than the principal’s. His group followed him everywhere, a pack of expensive uniforms, cruel grins, and the kind of confidence that came from never facing consequences.

And Alex Serenity had been their favorite target since the first week of term.

No one knew exactly what Dominic had against the boy — maybe nothing at all. Maybe he just hated weakness. Or maybe, deep down, he liked how Gabrielle’s perfect composure cracked whenever she saw her brother bruised and bloodied. Because every time Dominic’s knuckles found Alex’s ribs, Gabrielle’s voice — sharp, trembling, furious — echoed through the halls.

It was the only voice that ever stood up to him.

And he hated that. He hated her defiance, her tears, her trembling hands. Hated how she made him feel seen when no one else dared look him in the eye.

The morning it happened again — when Alex was dragged from the staircase to the rooftop, his face meeting concrete over and over — Gabrielle wasn’t there to stop it. The fight didn’t last long. Dominic didn’t even look tired after. Just wiped his hand clean on his uniform, gave his signature smirk, and walked away.

By lunchtime, the halls were already buzzing with whispers. “Alex Serenity’s in the infirmary again.” “Russo did it this time.” “She’s going to lose it.”

But Gabrielle didn’t say a word. She sat at the long mahogany table of the Academy’s luxury buffet cafeteria, her tray untouched, silver cutlery gleaming beside the glass of water she hadn’t lifted once. Around her, the room hummed with laughter, gossip, and the clinking of crystal — a world that pretended blood didn’t exist.

Then the noise shifted.

Footsteps — slow, heavy, deliberate — echoed through the space. Every conversation died out like a candle in the wind. The air thickened.

Dominic Russo.

He walked straight toward her table, flanked by two of his friends, their eyes sharp with amusement. His uniform collar was still slightly stained — just a shadow of dried blood. Alex’s blood.

Gabrielle didn’t look up. Not even when he stopped in front of her. Not even when his shadow fell across her tray.

The room watched in silence.

Dominic’s hand reached forward, setting something down on the table with a soft clink.

Alex’s broken glasses.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The smirk on his lips said enough.

The heiress and the heir — Serenity and Russo — sat in that quiet storm of power and rage. One looking down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a glance. The other staring, waiting, daring her to break.