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Chapter One: Enemies in the Flesh Université de Saint-Aubin – Paris Campus Monday – 8:30 AM Stella Baeumont hated many things: slow walkers, people who didn’t use turn signals, and cold Pizza. But none of them—none—came close to how much she hated Julien Astor. And there he was. Again. Stretched lazily across the back row of the lecture hall like it was his personal throne room. One long arm draped over the chair beside him, the other flicking through his phone like the world owed him nothing but amusement. He looked like sin dressed in a hoodie. The kind of sin that had a 4.0 GPA, a dimple when he smirked, and a reputation for getting away with everything—because professors loved him and girls tripped over their own shoes for him. Not Stella. She wore combat boots and walked right over boys like him. She shoved open the heavy door of the lecture hall, ignoring how her breath caught at the sight of him. “You’re in my spot,” she said flatly. Julien looked up, slow and deliberate, his sea-glass green eyes gleaming with faux innocence. “Bonjour to you too, Baeumont.” “My name isn’t that hard to pronounce,” she snapped, slipping into the seat next to him anyway. “And that’s not an answer.” He stretched. “Thought I’d give the back row a try. Better view.” She gave him a hard stare. “Of what, exactly?” Julien tilted his head toward the front, where Professor Renaud was setting up slides. “The screen. The knowledge. The grandeur of academia.” “Funny,” she muttered, pulling out her laptop. Julien’s grin widened. “And yet, you’re laughing.” “I’m glaring.” “Details.” By the time Professor Renaud launched into Advanced Legal Ethics, Stella had nearly tuned Julien out. Nearly. Because of course, he sat there, exuding calm confidence while she typed like her life depended on it. He didn't even take notes. Just leaned back, arms crossed, watching like he’d already absorbed the entire semester last night in his dreams. He probably had. Julien was infuriatingly brilliant, and she despised him for it. “Now,” the professor said, “you’ll be working in pairs this term. Mock court arguments. Final grade: 40%.” Stella straightened in her seat. Pairs? “I’ve assigned them randomly—real-life courtroom chaos simulation,” Professor Renaud continued. A murmur swept through the class. Stella’s pulse began to thrum. “Beumont ... and Astor.” Dead silence in her head. Stella turned to Julien slowly, like she was facing a firing squad. He was already looking at her. Smirking. “Told you. Better view from back here.” Later That Day – Law Library Stella paced between the stacks, textbooks clutched like shields. “This is a joke. It’s a punishment. Karma from a past life where I probably burned down a nunnery.” Her best friend Camille rolled her eyes from behind a pile of notes. “You’ll survive.” “Survive? Camille, I’m stuck with Julien Astor. For an entire semester. That’s like being forced to share a bed with a tiger. Who moonlights as a stripper.” Camille snorted. “He’s hot, I’ll give you that. But he’s also... competent. Maybe even useful.” “I don’t need useful,” Stella snapped. “I need quiet. I need focus. He’s like a walking distraction.” She didn’t say: And somehow, he gets under my skin even when he’s not trying. Camille closed her notebook. “Face it. He’s your academic soulmate.” Stella groaned. “Don’t ever say those words again.” That Evening – Shared Apartment Kitchen Julien hadn’t even bothered to knock. He stood in the doorway of her apartment like he belonged there, holding a folder and wearing that stupid leather jacket that made him look like a villain in a romance novel. “How did you get in?” Stella asked, arms crossed. He lifted the key she’d given him two years ago, back when they were part of a tutoring group. “You never asked for it back,” he said with a shrug. “You were supposed to lose it,” she hissed. “I don’t lose things that matter,” Julien replied, a bit too quiet. That shut her up for a second. He walked in and dropped the folder on her kitchen table. “I’ve outlined a rough case structure. We’ll split it fifty-fifty.” “You’re taking this seriously?” “Contrary to popular belief, Beaumont, I do care about things. Especially when grades are involved. And you? You’re top of the class. Which makes you a perfect partner.” He leaned closer. “Even if you hate me.” Stella opened the folder. His notes were meticulous. Detailed. Color-coded, even. A headache bloomed behind her eyes. Because this—this Julien—was worse than the flirty, careless one. This one was dangerous. Focused. Attractive in a way she couldn’t ignore. “I don’t hate you,” she said after a moment. “I just think you’re... intolerable.” His smile was slow and smug. “Progress.” Midnight – Stella’s Bedroom She should be asleep. But her mind kept replaying the look in Julien’s eyes when he said, “I don’t lose things that matter.” Like it meant more. Like he’d said it to her, not just at her. She buried her face in her pillow and groaned. Enemies weren’t supposed to be this complicated. Or this... compelling. Somewhere in the City – Julien’s Apartment Julien stared at the ceiling, the glow from his laptop casting sharp shadows across his face. He hadn’t lied. He didn’t lose things that mattered. And somehow, somewhere between all the insults and the competition, Stella Baeumont had started to matter. Too much.