Chapter Three
1091 Words
Brielle’s POV
Who didn’t know Adrian Avanzini? The name alone carried weight, whispered in every corner of the city like he was some sort of urban legend. He was the son of the wealthiest tech mogul in the state—a walking, talking billboard for confidence and charisma. Everywhere Adrian went, heads turned, conversations paused, and people suddenly remembered how to smile in his direction. Every girl in my school is madly in love with Adrian, juniors and seniors alike.
He didn’t just walk into a room; he owned it, his presence as magnetic as the sun pulling planets into orbit. And now, here he was, standing in front of me, looking like the answer to a prayer I didn’t know I’d made.
As he spoke, his voice smooth and velvety, I felt it—a tiny hitch in my breath. Barely noticeable, but it was enough. Enough for his smirk to grow wider, a slow curve of satisfaction that screamed, “Gotcha.”
“Same old,” I put myself together and responded.
“Same old what?” He stepped closer.
“Don’t come any closer,” I thought to myself with my eyes fixed on him. But Adrian, being Adrian, kept moving closer. His cologne hit me—clean, woodsy, with just a hint of spice. It was intoxicating, and I couldn’t tell if it was making me dizzy or if it was just him. Probably both.
Adrian tilted his head as he got as close as he could get to me. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asked, locking his gave on mine.
“Why would you think such?”
“Don’t lie to me, Brielle.” His voice dropped, softer now but no less intense. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I haven’t—” I started, but the look he gave me stopped me in my tracks.
I swallowed hard, tearing my eyes away from his and focusing on the buttons of his jacket instead. “I’m not avoiding you,” I said quietly, though even I didn’t believe it.
Adrian let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating in the space between us. “Sure you aren’t.”
His hand brushed mine—just barely, but enough to send a shiver racing down my spine. He leaned in slightly, his voice just above a whisper. “You can keep pretending, Brielle. But I’ll get the truth out of you eventually.”
And just like that, he stepped back, his smirk firmly back in place. My pulse thundered in my ears as he gave me one last look, those blue eyes of his holding promises I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
“See you around,” he said casually before turning and walking away, leaving me standing there with my thoughts in chaos and my heart doing somersaults.
“I’m fighting some personal battles, Adrian. I hope you understand,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my chest as I watched him walk away.
The sight of him leaving made something twist inside me, but I quickly shook it off and headed for my class. Except, once I got there, nothing felt the same. The lecture hall, usually buzzing with energy, felt suffocating today. Students filled the rows, chatting and laughing as they settled into their seats. Sunlight streamed in through the tall arched windows, casting soft golden patterns on the hardwood floors, but I couldn’t focus on any of it.
My thoughts were louder than the professor’s voice echoing at the front of the classroom.
“If my mom’s family was extremely rich, then why are Dad and I barely scraping by?” The question wouldn’t leave my mind. “And if she chose to have me, why would she abandon me afterward? Not a single call, no letters, no explanation. Nothing.”
I stared blankly at the screen at the front of the class as the professor clicked through slides, the words blurring together. My notebook sat open on the desk in front of me, completely blank. I tried to shake off the questions swirling in my head, but they clung to me like a second skin.
When lunchtime finally arrived, I was relieved to escape the classroom. I made my way to the hidden corner of campus where Savannah and I usually met. It was tucked behind the library, a small patch of grass with a bench shaded by an old oak tree. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it was private, and for some reason, Savannah insisted on keeping our meet-ups out of sight.
“Savannah?” I called softly, and she looked up from her phone with a small smile.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bench, her perfectly styled blond hair catching the sunlight, making her look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. She always looked flawless—her manicured nails matching her pastel sweater, her diamond earrings sparkling just enough to remind everyone she had money.
“How did it go with your dad yesterday? Did he finally tell you?” she asked. She sounded so curious as she patted the space next to her.
I sank down onto the bench, “Not really,” I admitted, letting out a frustrated sigh. “He started telling me the story from the very beginning, but before we could even get halfway, he fell asleep.”
Savannah frowned, her perfectly shaped brows knitting together. “You need to pester him more, Brielle. You can’t have a mom out there somewhere and not know who or where she is.”
“Look at how you’re rising in status here, in a school you obviously don’t belong in. You wouldn’t want people finding out about this part of your life.”
The comment stung, sharper than I expected. I knew I didn’t belong at Manchester University—not really. It was a world for trust fund babies and socialites, not a girl from the outskirts of the city on a scholarship. But hearing her say it out loud felt like she was confirming a fear I tried so hard to suppress.
I swallowed hard, forcing a weak smile. Savannah always meant well, didn’t she? Her persistence came from a good place—at least, that’s what I told myself.
“I’ll try,” I said, “I believe we’ll pick up where we left off when I get home tonight.”
Savannah gave me a satisfied nod, but my stomach churned.
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