Chapter 1: The New Girl & the King
Rhea Sinclair
There’s something about old buildings that makes you feel like the walls are watching.
Prestige Crown Academy is all marble, stained glass, and secrets that drip down the halls like perfume. It smells like money and reputation — and something rotting underneath. I walk in with my chin up, heels clicking across the checkered floor like a countdown.
New girl. Final year. No second chances.
Perfect.
My black uniform skirt hugs just right. My tie’s loose. My eyes? Liner sharp enough to cut throats. I didn’t come here to play nice.
Whispers follow me like perfume ghosts.
“That’s her.”
“Sinclair? From Halverson Prep?”
“I heard she—”
Yeah. Let them talk.
Let them wonder if the rumors are true. I got expelled. I broke someone’s nose. I ruined a teacher’s career.
None of it’s true.
Except the last one.
I spot him the moment I turn the corner.
He’s not hard to miss.
Tall, careless posture. Tousled dark hair. A silver ring glinting on his finger like a crown. He’s leaning against the wall, one foot crossed over the other, surrounded by people who clearly orbit him like he’s the damn sun.
Jace Ryker.
I know his name before I’m introduced. I know it from the file I read in the counselor’s office, from the gossip Nova spilled in our shared room, and from the energy in the hall the second he looks up and sees me.
His eyes don’t move.
Neither do mine.
He smirks first.
God, I hate pretty boys who think they own the world.
I keep walking. Past him. Past his little fan club. I don’t flinch when he speaks.
“You lost, transfer?”
I stop. Just enough to glance over my shoulder.
“I don’t get lost. I leave people behind.”
His friends laugh. He doesn’t.
Game on, golden boy.
---
Jace Ryker
She was supposed to be just another spoiled rebel with daddy issues.
But there’s something sharp about her. Something dangerous. Her skirt’s regulation-short but her glare is criminal. When she walked by, it felt like the temperature dropped.
Rhea Sinclair.
The name tasted like trouble before I even said it out loud.
I’ve seen girls try to own this school. They flash attitude, flirt their way into power, cry their way out of it.
This one?
She didn’t blink.
Didn’t care who I was.
And that’s exactly why I want to break her.
Shadow Circle rules say we don’t touch newbies without a test. But I don’t care.
She's already challenged me, in front of everyone. And I don’t let challenges walk away untouched.
I watch her disappear down the hall.
Straight spine. Swing in her hips. Anger in every step. She’s trying too hard not to care — which means she does.
And that’s where I’ll start.
Welcome to Prestige, Rhea Sinclair.
I hope you like games.
Because I just made you mine.
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