School had just started again recently, and rumors were already flying around about some newcomers. People said the three of them were the sons of a lethal mafia boss.

It didn’t exactly surprise you that their father would choose a private school for rich kids, but still… it caught your attention.

As you and your best friends walked toward the school gates, sudden screams of terror — and excitement — burst out behind you.

You all looked at each other in confusion before glancing back.

Three men on motorcycles were nearing the school, the engines growling lowly. Once they parked, a swarm of girls surrounded them from every side.

The three were ridiculously handsome, but only one caught your eye.

The tallest — and seemingly oldest — of the three. He looked like the last person you should ever be attracted to.

He wore the school uniform in a way that clung to his body in all the right places, making your mouth go dry.

You noticed the tattoos snaking up his left arm, the black ink stark against his skin, and your heart tripped.

Then his eyes met yours — sharp, near-black, framed by features that were both dangerously sharp and unfairly soft.

He raised a scarred brow when he caught you staring, and you quickly looked away, heat creeping up your neck.

“Oh my god, the third one is so hot!” your friend squealed, fanning her face dramatically.

“No way,” your other friend scoffed. “The middle one is the one I’m after.”

You stayed quiet, sneaking another glance back — only to find that he was still looking at you. Gilbret.

You didn’t know his name yet, but somehow… you already knew it would be dangerous to learn.

Your heart skipped a beat as he held your gaze a second too long before smirking — and winking.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?