–Lore–
I woke up uncomfortable.
And of course — Alyssa was snuggled against my back like I was a human heater she legally owned.
I shut my eyes and exhaled slowly.
This woman is a walking stress test.
I turned my head slightly. She was sleeping peacefully, arms spread across my bed like she’d signed a property deed overnight.
I told David last night that his sister had attempted a hostile takeover of my mattress. He laughed.
Of course he did. He thinks his princess floats above mischief.
I carefully slid out of bed, moving like a stealth unit avoiding tripwires. Composed myself in the bathroom, ran cold water over my face, recalibrated my brain.
When I ca out, she was still there.
Unbothered. Unaware. Tyrant of soft blankets.
I left her to it and headed downstairs.
Ms. Christina and the two maids were already preparing breakfast and packed snacks. The scent of garlic rice and brewed coffee filled the air.
"Good morning, ladies," I greeted, grabbing my mug.
Ms. Christina handed a glass of warm water first — routine. I drank it, then poured coffee and waited for it to cool.
"So... why is Ms. Alyssa in your room?" she asked gently.
"Excellent question," I muttered. "She annexed my bed and slept like royalty."
I prayed none of them assud anything scandalous. We barely slept. I nearly died of self-control. Red alert. Internal system overheating.
I lifted my mug—
"Aly!"
David’s voice thundered from upstairs.
Footsteps. A door flinging open.
"Alyssa! What the hell!"
Muffled arguing.
I sipped my coffee calmly.
Monts later, David rushed downstairs and — to my surprise — hugged .
"Did she bully you?"
I pouted dramatically and nodded once.
"I’m sorry," he said sincerely. "I’ll make sure she takes responsibility."
"Ugh, you’re so annoying," Alyssa hissed as she followed him down.
David kissed the top of my head like I was the victim of a tragic war cri. Alyssa yanked him away.
"You need our parents’ permission before you court ," I said casually, raising a brow.
She stared at like she was re-evaluating every life decision she’d ever made.
"Hmm. Never mind. I’ll find soone else."
She turned dramatically.
"Wait, Aly!" I lifted a hand like we were in a soap opera.
"It’s over!" she declared.
I calmly sipped my coffee.
"Let’s eat," I told David.
He sat across from . Ms. Christina placed his coffee down.
"So," David said, leaning forward. "How was the night with my sister?"
"It was painful," I replied gravely. "She stole my bed. Forced to the edge. I woke up folded like a corrupted file."
David’s expression softened with brotherly sympathy.
"But hey," he whispered, leaning closer, "you have my blessing."
I blinked.
"However," he added, "no funny business until marriage. In your thirties."
I nearly choked.
"Thirties? Are you running a monastery?"
He just grinned.
After breakfast, we got ready for school. Alyssa refused to speak to . Wouldn’t even look at .
I followed her down the corridor.
"Aly, I’m sorry," I called out, loud enough for anyone nearby — and possibly Tyrona’s informants — to hear.
She hissed at like an offended cat.
Good.
Let them think we’re falling apart.
Because sotis, the best strategy isn’t domination.
It’s performance.
–Alyssa–
Weekend ca.
And Lore was already getting ready—to get hit on. Or perhaps to pick a girlfriend from Trisha’s circle.
He even sprayed the perfu I chose for him. That dangerously sexy one. The one that lingers.
His face looked radiant. Sharp. Handso in that quiet, lethal way.
Yes, I chose what he’s wearing.
Tailored. Dark. A little mysterious. A little dangerous.
He grinned at , reached for my hand, and kissed it softly.
Then he handed a tablet and pointed to a button.
"Watch here," he said.
His voice was deep.
It was unfairly attractive.
"So I’m going to watch you make out with soone?" I asked sweetly.
"No. I won’t do that." He smirked. "Maybe flirt a little?"
Apparently, it was necessary for the mission. Sothing Livana and Damon needed confird.
Whatever.
At least he told his plans. I was included. That part excited —he wasn’t leaving behind.
I stayed in his bedroom while he taught how to control the device, how to switch feeds, how to mute audio, how to zoom. I learned everything for tonight.
"I’ll go now. You don’t need to walk downstairs."
"Okay," I nodded.
He leaned down and kissed my nose.
But I pulled his cheeks and quickly smacked his lips instead.
Just a quick kiss.
He flushed and pulled away imdiately.
"Hey. I told you not to do that."
I only grinned.
He grabbed his wallet, kissed the top of my head, and left without another word.
I fell onto his bed, turned on the cara feed, and sighed.
Just thinking about him made heat spread across my skin.
I’ve been dreaming about him lately.
Very vivid dreams.
Whispers. His voice close to my ear. The kind that make wake up breathless.
I even started wondering if he was so kind of incubus. That would explain why I wake up groggy.
Anyway.
He got into his Mustang.
"I was thinking about the mountains," he muttered. "Hiking. I haven’t been to so places up North."
"Don’t worry," I grinned. "I know a place. Let’s borrow Caine’s Humr. Or Kai’s."
"I have a Humr."
I blinked. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
I sighed dramatically. "Then let’s get married imdiately."
He laughed.
I was starting to love this device. The feed was clear—no static.
As he drove, I pulled out my books and modules and began working on my howork and projects.
"What are you doing right now?" he asked.
"Thinking dirty thoughts about you," I replied sweetly.
He groaned.
"Stop that, Alyssa."
I clicked my pen. "I’m doing howork. But I have questions."
"Sure."
"Just to make sure... how big are you—"
"That’s unrelated." He sighed. "Please stop asking unrelated questions."
"Anyway," I smiled. "I had those dreams about you again. Very... artistic dreams. I think I could paint them."
"Hey!" He chuckled. Then quieter, "Really? You dream about that?"
"Yes. I’m not even that old to be dreaming like that. Maybe you’ve been thinking about ."
Silence.
"Hmm," he humd.
"What does that an?"
"Nothing." He chuckled lightly. "Focus on your howork."
I did.
By the ti I finished one assignnt, he had arrived at the club.
Fake ID. Casual entrance.
There was Trisha and her friends.
She greeted him cheek-to-cheek.
I frowned.
I wanted to growl. Or hiss.
But I breathed.
By the ti I finished one assignnt, he had already arrived at the club.
Fake ID. A casual entrance.
There was Trisha with her friends.
She greeted him cheek-to-cheek.
I frowned.
I wanted to growl. Or hiss.
But instead, I breathed.
My Lorenzo is working.
Loud music, shouting, singing, and bursts of laughter. This is what Lore wanted to experience, and I think he’s enjoying it.
Soon, the drinks arrived.
They tried to spike his glass.
He swapped it smoothly when no one was watching and pretended to drink.
Flawless.
They asked about .
Probably to squeeze out more about my dark side.
To bully again.
But those assholes?
I won’t let them.
"So how long have you and Alyssa been dating?" Trisha asked. "Since orientation, right?"
"That girl is feisty," Paul added.
I crossed my arms.
Lore laughed lightly.
"Yeah, we dated. She was clingy."
I stiffened.
Clingy? ?
"I was forced into it," he continued casually. "She told her brothers we were lovers. I couldn’t get rid of her."
It stung.
But I reminded myself—it was a show.
He wouldn’t say those words to hurt .
At least... that’s what I kept telling myself.
The party continued.
Lore got closer to Trisha. Acting tipsy. Leaning slightly.
She touched his chest. Reached toward his face.
Of course they would fall for him.
Then I saw it—he planted a tiny device inside her bag.
Smart.
In the VIP area, he looked like he was asleep.
Then Theresa appeared.
Different tonight. No glasses. Curled hair. Heavy makeup.
She bent down and kissed his cheek.
Lore pushed her.
Jealousy burned through anyway.
Trisha was filming.
Monts later, the video was sent to my phone.
I looked at it.
Shrugged.
Tossed my phone onto the bed and focused on the live feed.
They carried him into a private room.
Trisha filming. Theresa leaning over him. Trying to leave marks.
She reached lower—
That’s when Lore moved.
Fast.
He pushed her away and stood up, eyes sharp and alert.
He grabbed Trisha’s phone.
Deleted the video.
Installed sothing.
"What are you trying to do?" His voice changed.
Cold.
Angry.
Theresa tried to grab him again. He pushed her onto the bed.
Pinned her there—not violently, but controlled.
"Theresa," he muttered clearly, "don’t be pathetic. You’ll never be as good as her."
Her eyes widened.
He checked Trisha’s phone again, then tossed it aside.
"I know your gas too, Trisha," he scoffed, stepping toward her with that dangerous calm.
I bit my lip.
God.
That was attractive.
Possessive. Controlled. Intelligent.
Yes.
I want him.
I am going to marry this man.
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