HIS POSSESSION

The golden gates of Harrington Academy towered above her like something out of a dream — or a nightmare. The cars parked along the front were worth more than everything Isla Winters had ever owned. Rolls-Royce. Bentley. Lamborghini. The kind of wealth she’d only seen on TV. She clutched her worn backpack tighter against her chest. Her scholarship letter was crumpled in her pocket, proof that she belonged here — at least on paper. But one look from the designer-clad students told her she didn’t. “Watch where you’re going, charity case,” a tall blonde sneered as Isla bumped into her. The girl’s perfume smelled like expensive roses and cruelty. “I—I’m sorry,” Isla stammered, her cheeks burning. She bent to pick up the papers that had spilled from her bag. That’s when the world seemed to go quiet. From across the courtyard, a black car — sleek, custom, and obviously expensive — rolled to a stop. The air shifted. Students started whispering. He had arrived. Lucien Drake. Heir to the Drake Empire. Billionaire. Untouchable. Dangerous. Rumor said his family practically owned the academy. Rumor also said that Lucien didn’t do love — he destroyed it. Isla had heard of him, of course. Everyone had. But seeing him in person was something else entirely. Tall, sharp-jawed, and dressed in a dark uniform that looked tailored for sin, he moved like the world itself belonged to him. His black eyes swept over the crowd like he was choosing who lived and who didn’t. And then — they stopped on her. For a second, Isla thought she imagined it. But no. His stare was locked, dark and unreadable. The corner of his mouth lifted, just a little, like he’d found something amusing. Or dangerous. He took a step forward. The crowd parted. Every instinct in Isla’s body screamed to look away, but she couldn’t. When he finally stopped in front of her, her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest. “You’re new,” he said — deep, slow, with that lazy arrogance only rich men have. “Yes,” she whispered. He glanced at the scholarship tag on her lanyard and smirked. “Scholarship girl. Interesting.” The way he said scholarship girl made it sound like an insult and a promise at the same time. Then he leaned closer, voice dropping low enough for only her to hear. “Welcome to my school, Isla Winters. Let’s see how long you last.” And with that, he walked away — leaving her frozen, her pulse racing, and a strange chill running through her chest. She didn’t know it yet, but that moment was the beginning of everything — the obsession, the danger, and the love that would burn through them both.