THE HEIRS' ARRANGEMENT

Mia Carter had been at Westbridge University for exactly six days when she realized that college was nothing like the movies.

For one thing, nobody had warned her about the amount of walking.

Her feet hurt.

Her backpack felt like it contained bricks.

And somehow, despite having checked the campus map approximately twelve times that morning, she still had absolutely no idea where her next class was.

“Mia!”

She kept walking.

“Mia!”

Still walking.

“Amelia Carter!”

Mia finally stopped.

She turned around slowly.

Prisca Williams stood several feet behind her, one hand on her hip and the other holding an iced coffee.

“You could have waited for me.”

Mia looked at the distance between them.

“You were buying coffee.”

“I needed coffee.”

“You've already had two.”

“That is completely irrelevant.”

Mia laughed.

Prisca caught up with her, looking perfectly put together despite the fact that they had both been awake since six that morning.

That was Prisca.

She could wake up five minutes before class and somehow still look like she'd spent two hours getting ready.

Mia, meanwhile, had spent twenty minutes that morning searching for one missing shoe.

“You're going to make us late,” Prisca said.

“We have fifteen minutes.”

“Exactly.”

Mia shook her head.

“You're dramatic.”

“And you're always underestimating how long it takes to get anywhere on this campus.”

They continued walking through the crowded university grounds.

Westbridge University was enormous.

The campus stretched across several blocks of New York, with old stone academic buildings standing beside modern glass structures. Trees lined the walkways, and students filled almost every open space.

There were people everywhere.

American students.

International students.

People speaking French, Korean, Japanese, Spanish, Portuguese, Arabic and Mandarin.

Westbridge had students from all over the world, and during the first week, Mia had already heard languages she couldn't always identify.

It was one of the reasons she'd wanted to attend.

The other reason was the scholarship.

That one mattered more.

Mia adjusted the strap of her backpack.

She couldn't afford to mess this up.

Her scholarship covered her tuition, but keeping it depended on her grades. She didn't have the luxury of failing classes and figuring things out later.

Her mother had cried when Mia received her acceptance letter.

Her father had hugged her so tightly she'd complained that she couldn't breathe.

And then they'd both told her the same thing.

Make something of yourself.

So she would.

Even if she had to work twice as hard as everyone else.

“Are you listening to me?”

Mia looked at Prisca.

“No.”

Prisca sighed.

“I've been talking for five minutes.”

“About?”

“You weren't listening!”

“Exactly.”

Prisca laughed.

“You're impossible.”

They turned onto another pathway.

Ahead of them was a crowd.

A large one.

Students stood around the entrance of the student center, whispering and occasionally looking toward someone in the middle of the group.

Mia frowned.

“What happened?”

Prisca stopped walking.

“Oh.”

Mia looked at her.

“What?”

Prisca's expression suddenly became amused.

“You haven't seen him yet.”

“Seen who?”

Prisca pointed subtly toward the crowd.

“Kang Jae-hyun.”

Mia blinked.

“Who?”

Prisca stared at her.

“You're joking.”

“No.”

“You really don't know who Kang Jae-hyun is?”

“No.”

Prisca looked genuinely shocked.

“Mia, you're the only person on this campus who doesn't know.”

“I've been here six days.”

“And somehow you've managed to miss the most talked-about person here.”

“Congratulations to him.”

Prisca grabbed her arm.

“Come.”

“Why?”

“Just look.”

Mia reluctantly followed her gaze.

And then she saw him.

The first thing she noticed was that he was tall.

The second was that he looked completely uninterested in the attention surrounding him.

He stood with two other guys near the entrance of the student center.

One of them was talking animatedly.

The other looked as though he was trying not to laugh.

Jae-hyun barely reacted.

He wore a black jacket over a white shirt, dark trousers, and simple shoes.

Nothing about his clothes screamed for attention.

Yet somehow everyone was looking at him.

His black hair fell naturally over his forehead.

His expression was calm.

Almost bored.

A girl walking past whispered something to her friend.

Another turned around after she'd passed him.

Mia looked away.

“He's attractive,” she admitted.

Prisca's mouth fell open.

“That is all you have to say?”

“What else should I say?”

“That he's ridiculously attractive.”

Mia shrugged.

“Okay. He's ridiculously attractive.”

“Thank you.”

“But I don't understand why everyone is acting like he's a celebrity.”

Prisca lowered her voice.

“Because he's Kang Jae-hyun.”

“That still doesn't explain anything.”

“He's Korean.”

“I can see that.”

“His family is ridiculously rich.”

Mia glanced at her.

“How rich?”

Prisca gave her a look.

“Rich enough that normal rich people would probably call them rich.”

Mia laughed.

“That's not a number.”

“His father owns Kangseong Group.”

Mia's expression changed slightly.

She'd heard of it.

Most people had.

Kangseong Group was a massive South Korean conglomerate with companies across several industries and countries.

“So he's that Kang?”

“Yes.”

Mia looked back at him.

For the first time, she understood why people were staring.

But she still didn't care.

“Okay.”

Prisca stared.

“You're impossible.”

Mia smiled.

“Come on. We have class.”

They started walking again.

Mia didn't notice that Jae-hyun had looked up.

Or that his eyes followed her for a moment.

He noticed her, though.

He wasn't sure why.

She wasn't doing anything special.

She wasn't staring at him.

She wasn't whispering to her friend.

She wasn't trying to get his attention.

She simply walked away.

Jae-hyun's eyes remained on her until she disappeared inside the building.

Min-jae noticed.

“You're staring.”

Jae-hyun looked at him.

“No.”

“You were.”

“I was looking at the building.”

Min-jae laughed.

“Of course.”

Jae-hyun ignored him.

He was used to people watching him.

He was used to people knowing his name before he'd even introduced himself.

His family had made sure of that.

Being a Kang meant living with expectations.

His father expected him to graduate from Westbridge, return to Seoul, and eventually take his place within the family business.

There was no question of whether he wanted it.

There rarely was.

And then there was Camille.

---

By lunchtime, Mia had decided that Westbridge's dining hall was unnecessarily complicated.

There were too many food options.

Too many students.

Too much noise.

She sat across from Prisca while scrolling through her phone.

Prisca dropped into the seat opposite her.

“You're going to love this.”

“No.”

“You haven't even heard it.”

“I know you.”

Prisca smiled.

“Camille Laurent is here.”

Mia looked up.

“Who's Camille Laurent?”

Prisca stared at her.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You really don't follow anything happening around here.”

“I follow my grades.”

“That's boring.”

“It's effective.”

Prisca pulled out her phone.

She showed Mia a photograph.

A beautiful French girl stood outside one of the university buildings.

Her appearance was polished without looking forced.

Mia studied the picture.

“She looks expensive.”

Prisca laughed.

“That is the most accurate description I've ever heard.”

“Who is she?”

“French heiress.”

Mia raised an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And apparently her family has business connections with the Kangs.”

Mia paused.

“The Kangs?”

Prisca nodded.

Mia looked back at the photograph.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Is she—”

“Jae-hyun's fiancée?”

Mia stared.

“You're joking.”

“Nope.”

Mia's stomach gave an odd little twist.

She didn't understand why.

She'd spoken to Jae-hyun for approximately zero seconds.

She didn't know him.

She wasn't interested in him.

So why did the word fiancée bother her?

She pushed the thought away.

“Well,” she said, picking up her fork, “that's none of my business.”

Prisca smiled.

“Good answer.”

---

That evening, Mia returned to the house she shared with Prisca.

Calling it a house was almost an understatement.

Westbridge's private residential area consisted of two-person houses built around a quiet courtyard.

Each house had two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a small outdoor area.

Students who could afford the private housing could rent them directly.

Prisca's family had rented one for her before she'd even arrived.

Mia had originally planned to stay in a cheap student hostel outside campus.

It hadn't worked out.

The place had been overcrowded, the commute was terrible, and the cost was still more than she could comfortably manage.

Prisca had simply refused to let her worry about it.

“You're staying with me.”

Mia had protested.

“I can't just live in your house.”

“Why not?”

“Because your parents paid for it.”

“And?”

“And I'm not paying rent.”

“Good.”

“Prisca.”

“Mia.”

“I'll contribute.”

“Fine.”

“I mean it.”

“Cook sometimes.”

“I can do that.”

“Then we're done.”

That had been the end of the argument.

Officially, the house belonged to Prisca.

Unofficially, it belonged to both of them.

Mia opened the front door.

“I'm home.”

No answer.

She walked into the living room.

Prisca was lying across the sofa, staring at her phone.

“You're home already?”

“We finished early.”

Mia dropped her bag beside the couch.

“How was your class?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Fine.”

Prisca narrowed her eyes.

“What?”

“You're thinking about him.”

“Who?”

“Kang Jae-hyun.”

Mia laughed.

“Please.”

“You are.”

“I don't even know him.”

“Yet.”

Mia threw a cushion at her.

Prisca caught it.

“You're annoying.”

“And you're blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

Mia turned away.

“I'm going to shower.”

Prisca laughed behind her.

Mia stopped halfway up the stairs.

“By the way, your mom called.”

Prisca groaned.

“What did she want?”

“To remind you that your dad's flying to Lagos next month.”

Prisca rolled her eyes.

“I know.”

“Are you going?”

“Obviously.”

Mia smiled.

“Your Nigerian aunties are going to interrogate you again.”

Prisca laughed.

“They're not my aunties.”

“You call them aunties.”

“Because they are basically aunties.”

“You're Nigerian. You can't escape it.”

Prisca smiled.

“Neither can I escape my mother's cooking.”

Mia laughed.

Prisca's Nigerian side had always been a normal part of her life rather than something she needed to explain.

Her father was Nigerian, her mother was American, and she had grown up moving comfortably between both sides of her family.

There were Sunday family calls, Nigerian food appearing at their house whenever her grandmother visited, American holidays, Nigerian celebrations, and relatives scattered between the United States and Nigeria.

She'd inherited her father's stubbornness, her mother's sarcasm, and apparently the family's ability to argue passionately about absolutely anything.

Money had never been a problem for her family.

Her father had built a successful international business, while her mother came from an equally established American family.

Prisca had grown up with opportunities most people could only dream about.

But she never acted like Mia was less than her because of it.

That was one of the reasons Mia loved her.

Prisca had never made Mia feel like a charity case.

She had simply opened her door and said, You're staying with me.

And somehow, that had been enough.

---

The following morning, Mia walked into her economics lecture three minutes before class began.

She stopped when she saw the empty seat beside Prisca.

“Saved you a seat.”

“Thank God.”

Mia sat down.

She pulled out her notebook.

The room was noisy.

Students were talking.

Someone was laughing in the back.

Mia opened her laptop.

Then a shadow fell across her desk.

She looked up.

Kang Jae-hyun stood there.

He glanced at the empty chair beside her.

“Is this taken?”

Mia looked at the chair.

Then at him.

“Yes.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“By who?”

Mia smiled politely.

“Someone.”

For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Interesting.”

He pulled the chair out anyway.

Mia stared at him.

“You really don't listen, do you?”

“No.”

He sat down.

Prisca covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

Mia looked at the board.

She tried to ignore the fact that Kang Jae-hyun was sitting beside her.

She tried to ignore the whispers starting around them.

And she definitely tried to ignore the strange feeling in her chest.

She didn't know it yet.

But that ordinary morning was the beginning of something that would change all of their lives.

Because at Westbridge University, secrets had a way of finding the people who were least prepared for them.

And Kang Jae-hyun had brought one very big secret with him from Seoul.

A secret named Camille Laurent.