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Chapter 3 - Adrian Smith

Crash! Thud!

Falling butt-first to the floor, Victoria grimaced. "O-ouch!"

She had been so lost in her thoughts, planning how to save Charlotte, how to make Marcus pay for his actions, how to start building her empire from scratch, that she hadn't been watching where she was going.

"I'm so sorry," a deep, melodious, manly voice said above her.

Victoria looked up and froze.

Adrian Smith stood silhouetted against the hallway lights, his pale skin almost luminescent under the fluorescents.

Even at seventeen, he possessed an otherworldly beauty that made people stop and stare. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead and those impossibly long eyelashes framed eyes that seemed to hold secrets from another century.

Unlike Marcus, whose popularity was confined to their graduating class, Adrian was one of the four uncrowned kings of Westfield High, mysterious, untouchable, and commanding respect from students across all grades.

"Are you hurt?" Adrian asked, his voice carrying a slight accent Victoria couldn't quite place.

Adrian squatted down to help gather her scattered books.

Seeing him, Victoria immediately shook her head, scrambling to collect her things. "No, no, it's fine, I wasn't paying attention. My fault entirely."

In her previous life, she'd barely registered Adrian's existence. He moved in circles so far above her social standing that they might as well have been different species. But now, looking at him with the eyes of someone who'd spent decades reading people, she noticed things that seemed... off.

His skin was too perfect, too pale. He moved without making a sound. And when he breathed, she could barely see his chest rise and fall.

"Here," Adrian said, reaching for her chemistry textbook at the same moment she did.

The corner of the book's page sliced across her fingertip like a blade.

"Hiss—" Victoria sucked in a sharp breath as bright red blood welled up from the cut.

Adrian's entire body went rigid.

His eyes, previously a cool grey, flashed to something darker, more intense. His nostrils flared slightly, and for just a moment, Victoria could have sworn she saw something sharp glint behind his lips.

But then he shook his head sharply, as if clearing away fog, and his expression returned to polite concern.

"You're bleeding," he said, his voice slightly strained.

"It's just a paper cut," Victoria replied, pressing her thumb against the wound. But she was watching Adrian carefully now, noting how his eyes kept darting to her hand, how his jaw seemed tense.

This girl... she's different, Adrian thought, struggling to maintain his composure.

Her blood didn't smell like the others. There was something about her, something that called to him in a way that made his centuries of self-control waver.

"You should clean that," he said, standing gracefully and extending a hand to help her up.

Victoria hesitated for a moment. In her previous life, she would have been tongue-tied, probably would have stammered something embarrassing and rushed away. But now, she was a woman who'd negotiated billion-dollar deals, who'd stared down hostile boardrooms.

She took his hand.

The moment their skin touched, Adrian's eyes widened slightly.

Her hand was warm, almost burning compared to his perpetually cool skin, and that same strange pull he'd felt when smelling her blood intensified.

"Thank you," Victoria said, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

For a moment, they stood there, hands still connected, and Victoria found herself studying his face. Up close, she could see that his beauty was almost too perfect, too symmetrical. And his eyes... they held a depth that seemed impossible for someone their age.

"Adrian! There you are, Victoria. I was wondering where you'd gone." Charlotte's voice broke the spell. 

Adrian released Victoria's hand and stepped back, his expression becoming politely distant once more as Charlotte came over.

"Ladies," he said with a slight nod. "I should get going. Again, my apologies for the collision."

As he walked away, Victoria noticed that his footsteps barely made any sound on the linoleum floor.

"Oh my god," Charlotte whispered, grabbing Victoria's arm.

"Adrian Smith just helped you up. Do you know how many girls would kill to have Adrian Smith touch their hand?"

Victoria was still staring after him, her mind racing. "Charlotte, what do you know about Adrian Smith?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you actually know about him? His family, where he's from, anything?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Not much. He transferred here sophomore year from somewhere up north. His family's loaded—they live in that huge mansion on Hillcrest Drive. He's mysterious, gorgeous, and completely out of our league. Why?"

Victoria touched her finger where the paper cut was already healing. "Just curious."

But as they walked toward the cafeteria, Victoria couldn't shake the feeling that Adrian Smith was hiding something far more significant than wealth or social status.

And more importantly, she couldn't forget the way he'd looked at her—like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve, a mystery that intrigued him in ways that went beyond normal teenage attraction.

In her previous life, she'd been so focused on Marcus that she'd missed everything else.

This time, she was paying attention.

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