Lucian looked up. And damn, the guy holding his wrist? Taller, sharper, handsomeness dialed to eleven. Not in academy uniform—just casual clothes—but holy hell, the aura. Like someone bottled aristocracy and poured it over him. And his face? Carved by some cruel sculptor who clearly hated modesty.
Behind him, a few suits moved with him—secretaries, bodyguards, the usual entourage. They weren't just walking; they were announcing. Everyone else felt it too. You know, that kind of aura where even your shoes start questioning your life choices.
Lucian tried to pull free. No dice. The hand was like iron wrapped in silk—or silk wrapped in iron? Whatever, it didn't matter; he was stuck.
Anya's eyes flicked to him. Surprise. Confusion. Maybe a little awe.
"Why you?" she asked. Short, clipped, sharp.
Ethan didn't respond to Anya but released Lucian. And like a sack of bricks, Lucian stumbled back. If not for the attendants, he would have kissed the pavement. Swollen wrist, pain shooting up his arm, the works.
"Who… are you?!" Lucian spat, more controlled anger than terror.
He wasn't dumb. He knew this wasn't some random dude. And anyone strolling into Purple Star Academy like that? Not simple. No. Not simple at all.
"Master Lucian, that's… Master Ethan!" someone squeaked behind him, voice almost breaking.
Master Ethan? Lucian's brain did a 360. Then froze.
One person. One. CEO of Yun Group, Ethan. Kyoto's top-of-top, the kind of guy people whisper about in reverent tones. Even if he's from a red-blooded family, messing with him? Suicide.
But—why is he helping Anya?
"Ahhhh! Mommy! I saw him! The ultimate hottie!"
The fan girls were already losing their minds. Like bees on honey, only more chaotic.
"So hot!"
"Waaah I wanna marry him!"
…
"That… seems like Master Ethan…" a voice whispered, careful, nervous.
The effect? The powerful people in the room stiffened. Respect, fear, whatever you call it—flowed like electricity in the air.
Luna's eyes glued to Ethan. Heart doing gymnastics. She didn't know who he was, didn't care—he was gorgeous, young, and radiating energy like he swallowed a sun. Secretaries and bodyguards behind him? Not just decoration. You could feel his rank.
And Anya—when did she even meet this guy?!
A smirk, thin lips, sharp: "Master Lucian's elders are not ordinary. He's the heir of a red-blooded family, and he actually bullied a girl… his fiancée. Word gets out, sounds bad, yeah?"
Lucian steadied himself, smiled. "So… Master Ethan, huh." Then glanced at Anya. "This is my fiancée. She did some things behind my back… things she shouldn't. I got a little angry. Okay, fine, more than a little. I… acted."
"Fiancée?" Ethan's words were cold, sharp like a blade sliding across marble.
Lucian froze. Should he answer? Did he want to? Wait… forget it.
Anya fixed her collar, the one Lucian messed up.
"Didn't you just say you were calling it off?"
Boom. Anger ignited.
"Then what the hell were you talking about before?!"
Anya blinked. "So getting scolded makes you change your mind? What kind of unstable stance is that?!"
Lucian: "…."
Bickering. Like two cats fighting over the last sardine. Ethan's brow twitched.
"Who said this young master isn't calling off the engagement?" Lucian shouted. "Anya, just wait. I'm going home today—officially ending our engagement."
Anya's lips curled, faint. "Fine."
Lucian fumed. Never been treated like this. And this guy? Universally hated at the academy. Embarrassment maxed out.
Hmph. A look. A turn. And gone.
Anya muttered: "Trash." Perfect.
Lucian held back the urge to look back, fists clenched, walking faster.
Students whispered, freaked out. Class F Anya humiliating Class A Lucian? Plot twist incoming.
Ethan tightened his eyebrows, scanned the spectators, called, "Luke."
"Got it." Luke smirked, snapped fingers.
Bodyguards stepped forward. Cold. Sharp. Eyes like daggers, measuring everything. You knew they weren't your average dudes. Physique? Deadly. Aura? Battlefield-hardened.
Two people—like the imperial PM's secret guards.
Then class bell. Students scattered. Chaos dissolving into the hallway.
Flynn and Luna stayed.
Anya looked at Ethan, eyes darting to the bodyguards. Retired special forces. No kidding.
"Why the haircut?" Ethan said. Slight annoyance. "It's… fine. Actually kinda works."
He ruffled her hair. Short, soft. Felt good.
Anya ducked away. "Do we even know each other?"
Only met once. Barely anything. But he acts as if they've been soulmates forever. Humans… weird.
"Sis, are you okay? Heard Lucian bugged you. Did he hurt you?"
Luna ran over, worry in every step.
Anya lips twitch. Luna had been watching, pretending now she cared. Classic.
"If you cry a bit, shed a few tears, maybe I'll believe you," Anya said. Cold. Zero mercy.
"And… the thing… you spread it, right?"
Luna's face shifted. Slightly annoyed, but teasing hidden. "You doubt me, sis?" Glanced at Ethan. Eyes mischievous.
Ethan dark gaze. Silent.