The classroom fell deathly silent, everyone frozen in place as they witnessed the fallout.
Jessica, still reeling from the punch, looked around, expecting soone to jump in on her behalf. But no one moved.
Sophie's smirk faded slightly as she realized the tables had turned, while Jessica's fear flickered through her eyes, knowing this wasn't the result she had expected.
Just in ti, the teacher burst into the room, and saw the commotion.
"What's going on here?"
"Teacher! Eve hit !" Jessica imdiately exclaid, her voice trembling with fake innocence as a tear slid down her cheek.
The teacher gasped when she noticed the blood trickling from Jessica's nose. Her face twisted into a mix of shock and disbelief.
"Eve Rosette, go to guidance right now! I'll deal with you later," she said, her tone stern, but her attention was already on Jessica, offering comfort. "Co here. Let's get you to the nurse's office—quickly."
I knew how this would go. It was always the wounded, the ones who cried, who got sympathy. Never mind that they were the ones starting the fights.
I didn't bother defending myself. It wasn't worth the energy.
Silently, I stood and slipped out of the room without another word. It wasn't like I was upset about missing class anyway, though the thought crept into my mind—would I ever graduate high school at this rate?
Not that it mattered, really.
As soon as I stepped out into the hallway, Cole was suddenly there. He was on in an instant, his sharp gaze zeroing in on the side of my face before I even had a chance to cover it.
Before I could react, his hand was gently but firmly on my chin, tilting my face toward him. His closeness hit like a wave, and I was instantly enveloped in his scent—clean, cool, and refreshing, with a hint of mint.
It wasn't cologne, just the faint trace of his shampoo or soap, but it wrapped around like a subtle, calming breeze.
"What happened to your face?" he asked, his voice low and steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.
The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. Even with his sunglasses on, I could feel the intensity of his gaze.
His grip on my chin was tender, yet there was a silent promise in his touch, like he was barely holding back his fury.
His fingers brushed lightly against my skin, careful, as though afraid to hurt .
I hesitated, unsure how to answer, my heart suddenly racing from the nearness of him.
Cole wasn't one to show emotion often, but when he did, it was fierce, and I could sense it now in the tightening of his jaw, in the way his lips pressed into a thin line.
I tried to look away, but his hand held there, forcing to et his gaze. His other hand lifted, grazing the side of my cheek where Jessica's slap had landed.
The touch was featherlight, but I couldn't stop the tiny gasp that escaped . His thumb brushed just below the faint red mark, and I saw the way his face hardened, a storm brewing beneath the calm exterior.
"Who did this?" His voice was quieter now, but there was no mistaking the danger lurking beneath it.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "It's not a big deal," I muttered, attempting to downplay it.
But Cole wasn't having it. He stepped even closer, his body inches from mine now, the heat of him flooding my senses, overwhelming. His hand still cradled my chin, tilting it higher as he leaned in.
"
Eve
," he said, and the way he said my na sent a tremor through , making my heart skip a beat. "Who did this to you?"
I couldn't help but stare, caught between the intense protectiveness in his voice and the magnetic pull of his presence.
The soft scent of mint and sothing warr—sothing distinctly
him
—washed over , making it hard to think clearly.
My mind raced, but all I could feel was the way his fingers lingered on my skin, the way he looked at like nothing else in the world mattered except figuring out who had hurt .
It was disarming, to say the least.
"It was nothing," I whispered, trying to steady my voice, but even I could hear how it wavered.
Cole's grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to let know he wasn't satisfied with my answer.
"You know I don't buy that," he murmured, his face so close now that his breath ghosted across my cheek. "Tell who it was, Eve."
There was sothing about the way he said my na, the way his fingers traced my jawline so gently, that made feel like he would protect from anything—even myself.
"It was Jessica Aldridge, from the Aldridge political dynasty."
Both Cole and I turned toward the voice and found my classmate standing there. If I rembered right, his na was . . .
"Mi . . . Mike?"
"It's Michael," he corrected, his tone flat, his expression serious. His black hair was cropped short, and his dark eyes were intense behind his glasses.
Michael wasn't just any student—he was one of the campus heartthrobs, always composed and distant, which only made him more intriguing. Most of the girls in class had a crush on him, including Jessica, if I recalled correctly.
But Michael never paid attention to anyone, too focused on his studies to bother with the usual high school drama.
I was surprised he was talking to now.
Read the latest on empire
"Right, Michael," I stamred.
Without another word, he disappeared back into the room, like our exchange hadn't even happened. Why was he even out here in the first place?
"Aldridge,
huh
?"
The sound of Cole's voice made my skin prickle. His grip on finally loosened, and I could feel the cool air rush in where his fingers had just been.
"This school really has lost its prestige if it's letting all sorts of flies buzz around," he muttered, his voice low and filled with disdain. Then, without a second glance, he turned and walked away, leaving standing there, baffled.
What's his problem?
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