Evelyn tried to pretend the black rose never existed.
She threw it away the moment she woke up—shoved it deep into the bottom of the trash bin and forced herself to forget the way her name sounded on his lips.
Lucien Virell didn't care about girls like her.
And yet… every hallway felt colder now. Every shadow heavier.
Every breath she took felt watched.
--- By midweek, she'd convinced herself it was just paranoia. That Lucien was just playing a joke. That he'd moved on to some prettier girl in a tighter skirt.
Until she opened her locker.
And found her bra inside. Clean. Folded. Touched. She gasped and slammed the locker shut, heart stuttering. No note this time. Just a scent. Faint.
Masculine. Familiar.
Him.
--- "Skipping gym, Evelyn?" His voice was silk—coming from behind her like smoke.
She turned, and there he was—leaning casually against the wall, school tie loose, eyes half-lidded.
"You went through my dorm?" she snapped, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
He smiled, slow and unbothered. "You left your window open."
"You— That's illegal—!"
"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't there for your things." He stepped forward, and she backed into the wall. "I was there for you."
His fingers brushed her chin—just once, barely a touch—but it made her knees weaken.
"You looked so peaceful when you slept." His voice dipped. "All soft and helpless. I had to fight the urge to crawl into bed with you."
Her face flushed. "You're sick."
"And you're blushing," he whispered. --- She tried to run, but he caught her wrist again—tighter this time. He pushed her into the empty classroom behind them and locked the door.
"Let go of me—!"
He didn't. Instead, he pressed into her, chest to chest, body radiating heat and danger. His breath grazed her cheek.
"I saw you laughing with that boy from chemistry." His voice turned rough. "I don't like that."
"He's just a friend—"
Lucien's lips brushed her jaw. "You don't get to have friends."
"I don't belong to you—"
"You do now."
His hand slid under her skirt—hovering at the top of her thigh, not touching, just teasing. Waiting.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered.
Silence.
Evelyn's breath hitched, her legs trembling.
She didn't say a word.
He smirked darkly. "That's what I thought." ---