The week rolled by like a blur of shadows and whispers.
Ella didn't return Marco's texts.
Didn't even go near Ryan.
But every night, she replayed that kiss.
That moment on the piano.
That look in his eyes that felt like he meant it.
She hated herself for still wondering.
Still wanting.
Still aching for him.
****
Saturday.
The elite academy's annual Fall Gala.
A formal event.
The kind of place where girls wore backless dresses and guys came in suits that cost more than rent.
Ella didn't want to go.
But Naomi—her best friend—practically shoved her into the black dress with the slit up the thigh and the plunging neckline.
"You need to show him what he lost," Naomi said, fixing her hair.
"I'm not doing it for him," Ella lied.
****
When she walked into the ballroom, every head turned.
Ryan's included.
His jaw literally dropped.
She looked like sin and silk and everything he couldn't touch.
Not anymore.
She didn't look his way.
Not even once.
But her body betrayed her.
She felt him.
Every time he moved.
Every time he breathed.
And he noticed.
He always noticed.
*****
She was halfway through pretending to enjoy a dance with one of the senior council boys when a voice behind her froze her spine.
"Well, well... if it isn't Ella Montgomery."
She turned—
And nearly choked.
Diego.
Her ex.
The one who broke her before Ryan ever got the chance.
"Didn't think I'd see you here," he said with that same arrogant smirk. "Damn, you've changed."
She backed away. "What are you doing here?"
"I transferred back last week. Miss me?"
"No."
He chuckled. "Still feisty."
Ryan, watching from across the room, noticed her expression instantly.
He excused himself from his conversation and walked over—tight shoulders, clenched jaw, protective instinct in overdrive.
"Is there a problem?" he asked sharply.
Ella tensed.
Diego raised a brow. "And you are?"
"Someone who doesn't like the way you're looking at her."
"Oh?" Diego laughed. "You her boyfriend?"
Silence.
Ella's breath caught.
Ryan's voice dropped, low and rough: "Not yet."
Her heart skipped.
Diego scoffed. "Typical. You always did go for the cocky ones."
Ryan stepped forward. "Leave. Now."
For a second, it looked like Diego might push back.
But then he smirked. "Fine. She's not worth the trouble anyway."
And walked off.
Ella stood frozen.
Eyes on Ryan.
"You didn't have to do that," she whispered.
"Yes, I did."
"Why?"
"Because I still care. Even if you hate me for it."
She blinked.
The music blurred.
Her head was spinning.
And then he said the one thing that undid her completely:
"I never touched you for the bet, Ella. Everything I did after that first week… it was real. All of it."
She stared at him.
Eyes wide. Lips parted.
Before she could answer—
The fire alarm rang.
Screams erupted.
Smoke rolled in from the kitchen.
People panicked.
And someone grabbed Ella's arm in the chaos.
Only this time—it wasn't Ryan.
It was Diego.
And he was pulling her toward the back exit with a grip too tight to be friendly.
****