Prologue
It was just past 10 PM.
The library had thinned out, most students long gone.
The antique chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, casting dancing shadows across the long reading tables.
Aria sat alone at one end of the table, notebook open, brows furrowed in deep concentration as she scribbled case study notes.
She didn’t notice the soft scrape of a chair beside her until it was too late.
Rhys Blackwood had arrived—quiet, confident, entirely uninvited.
He had that maddening way of moving, like he belonged everywhere. Like the world bent to accommodate him, not the other way around.
Without glancing up, she sighed. “If you’re here to flirt, Blackwood, don’t.”
Rhys tilted his head, amused. “Who says I was going to?”
“You’ve got that look.”
He raised a brow. “What look?”
“The one that says you’re about to say something ridiculous just to see how I’ll react.”
He smirked. “Well, I do enjoy your reactions, Bella.”
Her pen paused mid-sentence. “Stop calling me that.”
“No.”
She finally looked up, eyes narrowing. “Why are you even here?”
He leaned back in his chair with a lazy stretch, the soft grey knit of his sweater pulling tight across his chest. “We’re partners for that marketing project, remember? I figured we should at least pretend to get along.”
“Pretending is your strong suit. Not mine.”
His grin deepened.
Aria forced her attention back to her notes, ignoring the heat crawling up her neck.
It wasn’t fair. He was infuriating—cocky, arrogant, always smirking like he knew something the rest of the world didn’t. And yet… there was something about him that tugged at her like gravity.
Rhys didn’t treat her like others did. No pity for being on scholarship. No wide-eyed shock at her brains. No fake smiles. No whispers behind her back.
No one knew she came from a well-off family. His group looked down on her.
Rhys. He liked to poke. Tease. Rile her up. But unlike the rest, he never tried to humiliate her.
And she was no damsel in distress anyway.
In fact, she’d made a habit of knocking arrogant boys like him down a peg or two.
But still... Rhys looked at her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve. Like she was chaos wrapped in silk, and he couldn’t resist unraveling her.
And right now, the way his eyes stayed on her—focused, intense—was making it very hard to breathe.
Aria focused harder on her notes, chewing the cap of her pen. A strand of hair slipped loose and fell against her cheek.
She didn’t notice his fingers move.
Not until they brushed gently against her skin, tucking the strand behind her ear.
She froze.
Her eyes shot to his. He was closer now.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“What are you doing, Julian?” she whispered.
His lips twitched. “Nothing,” he murmured. “Focus on your work… Bella.”
That damn name again.
She tried to glare, but her pulse was pounding. He had this way of charging the air between them—like every glance was a spark waiting to catch.
Time passed in slow-motion. Minutes. Maybe hours.
She wasn’t sure.
Not with him watching her like that.
Like she was a story he was desperate to read—page by page, breath by breath.
Without realizing it, she bit her lower lip.
He tilted his head slightly. “Don’t do that.”
She blinked. “Do what?”
“Bite your lip.”
Her brows creased. “Why?”
He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper—low, dark, and laced with danger. “Because then I’ll want to kiss you. And I don’t think the library has rules for that.”
Her lips parted in a silent gasp, her breath stalling in her chest.
She hated how easily his words wrapped around her—warm and wicked, like silk laced with static.
And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned forward…
… and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Soft. Fleeting.
Like a secret.
Aria went still. Completely, utterly still.
She didn’t say a word.
Just gathered her books, shoved her pens into her tote, and walked—no, ran—out of the library like she was escaping a fire.
Behind her, Rhys leaned back in the chair, his smirk more genuine than usual.
“I like you, Bella,” he murmured into the empty silence. “Wish you felt the same.”
