“So here we go,” Jun said with her sleek black hair pinned away from her face with colorful clips that sparkled in the hostel lights. Her style was as bold as her personality, and after spending the night together in our shared hostel room, I realized she was one of those girls who could talk for hours without running out of things to say.

But my mind wasn’t entirely on her chatter. I couldn’t shake the image of Lucas’s picture I had seen yesterday, red ink violently slashed across his face. My heart wondered if it had anything to do with Clarissa. I didn’t dare ask Jun. Curiosity burned inside me, but I swallowed it down. Some questions were better left unanswered.

We exchanged goodbyes. “See you later,” I said, forcing a casual smile before picking up my pace. Jun went her way, to the Arts class, while I turned toward the Science wing.

I crossed myself quickly, a whispered prayer on my lips. God, please don’t let me run into Lucas. Not today.

He was dangerous, I knew it the moment he scolded me to get off his desk and when he had ordered me out of his way with that dark, commanding glare. Jun’s warning about him made perfect sense. He wasn’t just trouble, he was the kind of storm that could swallow me whole if I let him.

Jun had been the perfect companion as we strolled out of the hostel earlier. We had the access card to swipe at the lock, the gate sliding open in smooth, futuristic silence. Breakfast had been her idea. She wanted us to eat at the school’s restaurant, if you could even call it that.

It wasn’t like any restaurant I’d ever seen. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling like strings of diamonds, golden light shimmering across the room. Velvet seats, marble floors so polished you could see your reflection, and soft jazz floating through the air. It looked more like a five-star hotel than a school cafeteria. Students lounged as if they were royalty, sipping coffee and eating plated meals served by AI-driven waiters.

Jun had paid for both of us with her sleek black credit card, although as boarders we could have ordered free food straight to our rooms. But no, Jun insisted. “The restaurant experience is part of Dale’s High,” she’d told me proudly.

That’s when I saw her, the girl from yesterday. The one who had given me directions to the hostel and let me use her card to pass the gates. She was sitting with two other girls, laughing softly over their plates. Were they roommates? Old friends? I wondered.

Jun had ordered her favorite, Hainanese chicken rice served the way only the wealthy could afford it: fragrant jasmine rice, perfectly poached chicken glazed in sesame oil, and tiny porcelain bowls of dipping sauces arranged. I ordered the same, telling the AI-driven waiter with its metallic voice that I wanted what she was having. Within minutes, our plates appeared, steaming hot, as though conjured by magic.

I couldn’t hide my awe as I watched the system glide across the restaurant with machine precision. Technology here wasn’t just advanced, it was beyond anything I’d seen in America. And to top it off, Jun poured us each a glass of sparkling white wine. It felt unreal, like we weren’t students heading to class but heiresses dining before a gala.

Later, as we walked to class, I checked my phone. The girls’ chat was buzzing. Mia had dared me to snap a picture of one of the Dale twins, either of them, for the group. A challenge. My stomach twisted. I had been warned to stay away from them, especially Lucas. Still, I promised I would try. Maybe Nicholas. Never Lucas, the one with the pierced nose and dangerous aura.

But fate is cruel.

The moment I entered class, my eyes landed on Lucas. He was already there. Headphones on, laptop open, arms crossed. A deep frown carved across his face. He looked unreal, too perfect with his tousled dark hair and sharp jawline, the kind of beauty that was dangerous simply because it existed.

I wanted to look away, I needed to look away. But I couldn’t. His presence was magnetic. Every other student in the room stole glances at him, but none dared approach.

I forced myself to sit, pulling out my English and Physics textbooks, the same ones I had flipped through at 4 a.m. while Jun slept under her designer duvet.

The bell chimed. Our English teacher swept in, heels clicking like a countdown to silence.

Venessa Seo. She was stunning. Hair perfectly styled, her designer floral blouse tucked into a sharp black skirt, and the air around her filled with the scent of luxury perfume. She radiated power and elegance.

Her sharp eyes scanned the class, lingering a second too long on Lucas, but she didn’t scold him for his laptop. Instead, she smiled faintly and introduced herself.

“I’m Venessa Seo, your English teacher. Dale’s High promises quality education, and I intend to deliver nothing less. Now, let’s begin.”

With a flick of her stylus, the smartboard glowed to life. The topic appeared in bold glowing letters:

“The Power of Words: How Language Shapes Reality.”

I froze. Of all topics… it was like the universe was mocking me.

Ms. Venessa explained passionately. “Words aren’t just communication. They are power. They can build or destroy, heal or wound. Even kingdoms rise and fall on words.”

Her gaze flickered toward Lucas again. He didn’t look up, his lips pressed tight, a faint crack of dried blood at the corner. My pulse quickened. Had he been in a fight?

The teacher circled the topic on the board. “Now, who can define this in their own words?”

Silence. No one answered. My hand itched. I knew exactly what to say. I stood.

The room stilled. Every eye turned to me.

“Miss, is there a problem?” Ms. Venessa asked, surprised.

I blinked. “N-No. I just… wanted to answer.”

Her brows rose. Then she smiled softly. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Sophie. Sophie Anderson.”

“Well, Sophie, here, we don’t answer by standing. You project your answers directly to the board.” She gestured with her stylus, and I saw it: every desk had a sleek tablet connected to the board. Students were silently sending their answers to display. Names like Darius Kai, Leonard, Victoria glowed across the board in bold letters.

My cheeks burned. Back in America, standing was normal. Here, it made me look like a fool. I sank back into my chair, humiliated.

Venessa continued the lesson while answers kept appearing. I scribbled notes furiously, determined not to make that mistake again.

Halfway through, the door opened. Nicholas Dale entered.

The air shifted instantly. He carried an aura that was colder, sharper, than Lucas’s stormy presence. His bag was a deep red leather, embossed with the Red Dynasty’s crest. He didn’t acknowledge anyone, not the teacher, not the class, as he slid into his seat.

That’s when I saw it. A bruise on his neck. Combined with the cut on Lucas’s lip, it told me everything. They had fought.

But what for?

The tension between them only deepened as the lesson dragged on, and when the bell finally rang, Ms. Venessa assigned us a group project for the next class. My stomach dropped. Who would want to partner with me? My gaze drifted, unwillingly, to the twins. The thought alone made my pulse race. No. Impossible.

Later, during Physics, I redeemed myself. This time I used the tablet system, projecting my answers onto the smartboard. Mr. Han, our Physics teacher, strict but fair, praised me by name. A small victory.

By the time class ended, my phone buzzed. The girls were screaming in the chat, begging for the picture of Nicholas I had promised. I lifted my phone, hands trembling, aiming it discreetly at him. Just as I was about to snap,

Nicholas stood, shouldering his bag. At the same time, Lucas rose too. The tension between them was palpable, like lightning in the air. They stormed out of the classroom, and within minutes, the hallway buzzed with whispers:

“The Dale twins are fighting again!”

Curiosity dragged me out. Students crowded the hall, watching.

Lucas had Nicholas cornered against the wall, his voice low and dangerous.

“You used my face to lie to Father. You told him I don’t care about the Dynasty!”

Gasps erupted. Nicholas smirked, his calm demeanor only fueling his brother’s rage. “Sounds like something you would say.”

Lucas’s fist flew, blood splattering Nicholas’s lip. Gasps turned into shouts.

I tried to slip away toward the restroom, head down, sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. But then,

Someone collided with me.

I stumbled, and fell straight into strong arms.

Nicholas Dale’s arms.

Our eyes locked. His piercing brown gaze burned into mine, his breath brushing against my lips as my hand pressed against his chest.

I swallowed hard, frozen, as his eyes flickered down, straight to my lips.