Then I saw Luciana. Laughing. Smirking. Feeling proud of her little performance. Something inside me snapped-clean, violent, unstoppable. I stormed toward them.
"WHAT. THE. HELL. IS THIS?" The hallway went silent in an instant. Luciana blinked.
"Stefano? Babe—"
"Don't call me that." My voice was ice. She flinched.
I looked around at the posters, each one more disgusting than the last. And then my voice thundered:
"TAKE. THESE. DOWN. NOW!"
Nobody moved. So, I tore the first poster off the board myself. Then another. Then another-each rip louder, harsher, angrier.
Luciana's confident smirk faltered.
"Stefano… you're overreacting. It wasn't even that serious—"
I stepped closer, my voice low and lethal.
"Humiliating her? Calling her names? Making the whole college turn on her?" My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
"You think that's not serious?" Her eyes widened. Students watched with wide eyes. Some were whispering, shocked that I was defending her. My gaze cut through Luciana like a blade.
"You crossed a line," I said. "A line you should never have touched." Luciana swallowed. Her friends drew back.
Good. She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn't let her.
"If you ever go near Sierra again… if you even breathe wrong in her direction—"
I leaned in, deadly calm—
"you'll regret it." Luciana froze. Her lips quivered. I didn't wait for a reply. Turning, I walked right to find Sierra.
She looked up-eyes glassy, cheeks wet. Something twisted in my chest. I hated to see her cry. I hated that someone had hurt her. I hated how violently I wanted to protect her. I reached toward her-then stopped, fingers hovering inches from her cheek. "Come on," I said quietly. "Not here." But she didn't move. She just stared at me, hurt, confused, vulnerable. My own voice softened without permission. "Sierra… please." Her breath caught. She followed.
(Sierra's POV )
Dinner was silent. Nicolas and my mom spoke a bit, but the tension was thick enough to choke on. Stefano barely touched his food. He kept clenching his jaw. Looking at me. Looking away. Looking at me again. I couldn't read him. But later—
when everybody slept— I stepped into the hallway for water. And there he was. Leaning against the wall. Arms crossed. Eyes shadowed. "You okay?" he asked softly. I blinked.
"You. you care?" His jaw twitched.
"I never said that." But his eyes… They said it all. We stood too close. Too quiet. Too charged. He lifted a hand slowly, brushing a strand of my hair back behind my ear. His fingertips grazed my cheek. My heart stopped.
"I shouldn't care," he whispered.
I swallowed. "Then why do you?" His breath caught. He stepped closer. I stepped back until my spine touched the wall. His hand glided to my jaw-gentle, warm. His forehead almost touched mine. "Because you make me lose control," he whispered. "And I hate it."
My pulse hammered so loudly I thought he might hear it. His lips skimming my cheek… then my jawline… then— He bowed his head— and kissed the side of my neck. Soft. Slow. Like he didn't mean to. Like he couldn't help himself. My breath shook.
"Stefano…" I whispered. He froze. Pulled back. Eyes wide. Confused. Hungry. "I—" He stepped away abruptly, running a hand through his hair. "This is a mistake." He walked away quickly. And it leaves me breathless, shaken, and burning. A mistake… But if it was a mistake—
Why did he look as if he wanted more? Why he looked so hungry? Why his gaze was filled with lust? Why the hell did he kissed me?
Is he playing with me? Like Luciana? Enough of this bullshit! Not anymore. Ever since I came here I didn't fight with anyone neither argued neither replied back. Not because I was fragile. Because I was tired fighting with my fate, with my with any reason enemies, I was tired being alone and became the object of mocking, that's the reason I never told anyone here about my whole past.
(Stefano's POV)
I slammed my door shut. My heartbeat wouldn't calm. What the hell was wrong with me?
Why did touching her feel like drowning?
Why did kissing her neck feel like oxygen?
Why did her earlier tears feel like someone stabbed me?
I shouldn't want her. But I did. More than I wanted to admit, actually. And it terrified me. Especially because— She wasn't supposed to get hurt today. Not by Luciana. Not by anyone else. Not even by me. But I hurt her, too. And part of me… hated myself for it. I sat on my bed, my head in my hands, whispering to the empty room,
"She's ruining me." And yet— I couldn't stop going back to her. I couldn't stop wanting her. I couldn't stop imagining- Her lips. Her voice. Her warmth. Her everything. And somewhere deep inside— I already knew: And this was only the beginning.
(To be continued....)