The late afternoon sun bathed the cobblestone streets of Bologna in gold, but Scarlett's thoughts were elsewhere. Her mind replayed the exhibition again and again — the way her model had moved, breathed, and adapted under the soft lights, and, of course, the way Nicolas Volkov had watched her, just for a moment, before disappearing like a shadow.
She had waited too long to thank him properly. He had intervened at the café, stopping Alisa from humiliating her. And though he still acted as if he didn't know her, Scarlett's heart refused to stay calm. Every time she thought of his sharp blue eyes, her chest tightened and her mind went blank.
She knew where to find him. Nicolas didn't linger at the university like others — he was the heir to the Volkov empire, the CEO of a company that dealt with power, influence, and secrets across Europe. His visits were rare and purposeful, often hidden under excuses of "research collaborations" or "special projects." Some whispered he worked with professors on experimental weapons or secret AI systems in the restricted labs under the engineering building. Whatever he did, it always left tension hanging in the air long after he left.
Scarlett took a deep breath as she stepped into the dimly lit innovation lab. Screens flickered, wires tangled across tables, and the scent of metal and ozone filled the air. And there he was — standing near the table, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on a blueprint that looked too complex to belong to any student.
"Mr. Volkov?" she called softly.
He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto hers with that same unreadable intensity. His expression didn't change, but something in his gaze flickered — like recognition, quickly hidden.
"Miss Rose," he said, voice smooth and steady. "What brings you here?"
Her palms were damp, but she kept her voice calm. "I… I wanted to thank you. For what you did at the café. You stopped Alisa — and I appreciate it."
He didn't reply at once. He tilted his head slightly, watching her like he was trying to read between her words. "You don't need to thank me," he said finally. "Some people need to be reminded of their limits."
Scarlett smiled faintly. "Maybe. But still… I wanted to say it."
The air between them was thick — quiet but charged. The faint hum of machines filled the silence as Scarlett gathered her courage again. "Actually, there's… something else. I'm expanding my project. I want to integrate adaptive systems — AI-driven optimization, predictive response patterns, smart energy routing. But I can't do it alone. I was hoping… maybe you could help."
His eyes narrowed slightly, curious but cautious. "You think I'll help you?"
"I hope so," she said, her tone softer now. "You're good at this — at business, tech, everything. I trust your insight."
He turned his gaze away for a moment, jaw tightening as if calculating the risks. "You shouldn't," he said at last. "This isn't just coding and systems, Scarlett. Getting me involved… it brings attention. The wrong kind."
"I know," she whispered. "But I'm ready to handle it."
For a moment, silence stretched again. Then he sighed quietly, eyes softening. "You have no idea what you're asking."
"Maybe not," she admitted, "but I know it's worth trying."
Something flickered in his eyes — a trace of something familiar, unspoken. "I'll think about it," he said finally, his tone low, deliberate.
Scarlett blinked, hope flickering. "You'll think about it?"
He gave a small nod. "That's all you get for now."
By the time Scarlett stepped out of the lab, the sky had turned from gold to rose, the air cool and soft against her skin. She didn't realize someone had seen her — or that the soft click of heels had followed her shadow.
Joanna.
From the corner near the stairwell, Joanna had watched everything — Scarlett walking out, her cheeks slightly flushed, the faintest smile curving her lips. Her eyes widened with realization, and then narrowed with something darker. Within an hour, her message reached Alisa Meng.
"He met her again," Joanna said coldly. "In the lab. She's trying to get him involved in her project."
There was a brief pause before Alisa's reply came, her voice dripping with composure. "And what did he say?"
Joanna hesitated. "He didn't say no. He said he'll think about it."
For a moment, silence filled the call. Then came Alisa's low laugh — sharp and cold like glass breaking. "Perfect," she murmured. "Then it's time I remind little Miss Rose exactly where she stands."
As night fell over, the quiet corridors of the university seemed to whisper of what was coming — jealousy, revenge, and a dangerous attraction neither Scarlett nor Nicolas could escape.
And somewhere in the shadows, Alisa was already planning her next move.