STERLING HEIRS

The welcome Gala ( continuation)

(adunni pov)

I walked away from Cole and Keiran, the heavy silk of my emerald dress whispering against the marble floor. I didn't look back. I could feel their eyes burning into my spine, but I kept my chin high, navigating the sea of glittering gowns until I reached the beverage station.

My hands were slightly damp as I picked up a glass of sparkling cider. Calm down, Adunni, I scolded myself, taking a slow, steadying sip. You came here for an education, not to be a prize for bored billionaires.

"You are playing a very dangerous game," Maya murmured, materializing from the crowd beside me. Her eyes were wide behind her silver-rimmed glasses, her hands nervously clutching her clutch bag.

"I'm not playing a game, Maya. I'm trying to survive," I whispered back, scanning the room.

"Well, survival just got harder," Maya said, tilting her head slightly toward the western pillar.

Christina Vance was standing there. She wasn't yelling or throwing a tantrum. Instead, she was staring at me with a cold, calculated stillness that was far more terrifying. She was typing something into her phone, flanked by the two identical girls who had snickered at the stairs.

A second later, a subtle wave of movement went through the room. It started with a few muffled gasps, followed by the synchronous chime of notifications. Dozens of phones lit up.

Maya pulled out hers, her thumb scrolling quickly. Her face fell. "It’s The Sterling Slate. The academy's anonymous forum. Someone just posted a picture of you walking up the stairs."

I took the phone from her hand. The caption read:

SPOTTED: The Lagos charity case trying to blend in with royalty. Rumor has it her scholarship covers tuition, but not dignity. Let’s see how long she lasts before she runs back to the slums.

A hot flash of humiliation flared in my chest, but I forced it down, handing the phone back to Maya. "They want a reaction," I said, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. "I won't give it to them."

But the elite didn't just play online.

As I turned to step away, a body intentionally slammed into my shoulder. Hard. The force caught me off guard, my heels sliding on the polished floor. The crystal glass slipped from my fingers, shattering loudly on the marble, cider splashing across the hem of my dress.

"Oh, my fault," the girl—one of Christina’s minions—said, a completely fake gasp escaping her lips. "I didn't see you down there."

The surrounding circle of students fell silent, watching to see what the scholarship girl would do.

Before I could speak, a shadow fell over us. Cole Ashford stepped into the light. He didn't make a scene, and he didn't scream, but the absolute coldness in his blue eyes made the girl step back instantly.

"Apologize," Cole said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a quiet, terrifying authority that left no room for argument.

"Cole, it was an accident—" the girl stammered, her face draining of color.

"It wasn't," Cole countered smoothly, stepping closer. He didn't look at her; his eyes shifted to me, tracing the stain on my dress with a deep, silent frown. "Apologize to Adunni. Now."

The girl swallowed hard, her lower lip trembling under the weight of his stare. "I'm... I'm sorry, Adunni."

Cole didn't wait for her to leave. He turned fully to me, his hand extending slightly, pausing just inches away from my arm—respectful, yet intensely close. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice dropping into a gentle register that felt completely out of place in this cutthroat room. "I can have someone fetch you a change of clothes."

"I'm fine, Cole. Thank you," I said, maintaining my boundaries. I could see the genuine protectiveness in his eyes, but I also saw the danger of leaning on it.

"She doesn't need a valet, Ashford," a low, gravelly British accent cut through the air.

Keiran Voss materialized from the shadows near the terrace doors. Wears his suit with a lawless looseness, his stormy grey eyes locked onto the shattered glass at my feet, then crawled slowly up my frame. A dark, amused smirk played on his lips. "And she certainly doesn't look like the type who cries over a little spilled juice."

Cole’s posture went completely rigid, his shoulder shifting to slightly block Keiran from my view. "Go away, Keiran."

"Make me," Keiran murmured, stepping directly into Cole’s space.

The air between them turned entirely toxic. The two lifelong friends stared at each other, a heavy, unspoken rivalry suddenly cracking the foundation of their brotherhood.

Then, the lights cut out.

The entire Grand Atrium was plunged into pitch blackness. A collective gasp echoed through the room, followed by a sudden, shrill electronic ring from the overhead speakers. It wasn't a fire alarm—it was a total power failure.

In the sudden dark, confusion turned to a low panic. Murmurs escalated as people began moving blindly, trying to find the exits.

"Adunni, stay still," Cole’s voice called out nearby, his hand reaching out to find mine in the dark.

But a sudden surge of moving bodies crowded between us, shoving me backward. I stumbled, my hand gripping a marble pillar to steady myself. "Cole? Maya?" I called out, coughing slightly as someone's heavy perfume choked the air.

A large, warm hand suddenly clamped around my wrist. The grip wasn't brutal, but it was unyielding, wrapping around my skin like an iron cuff.

Thinking it was Cole, I let out a breath. "Cole, I'm here—"

I was pulled firmly backward, away from the main floor and into the deep, recessed alcove of the dark corridor. The scent of expensive cedarwood didn't meet me. Instead, the sharp, intoxicating scent of expensive leather and dark smoke filled my senses.

My back hit the cool marble wall, and a towering, heavy frame stepped directly into my space, completely trapping me in the pitch black.

"Guess again, sweetheart," Keiran’s smooth, dangerous British accent whispered against the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

My heart did a violent flip against my ribs. "Keiran," I gasped, my hands coming up to press against his chest to push him away, but my palms only met the solid, unyielding muscle of his chest. "Let me go. The lights—"

"The lights can wait," he murmured. In the darkness, I couldn't see his face, but I could feel the absolute intensity of his focus. His hand slid slowly up from my wrist, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin of my inner arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "You think you can just walk into this academy, stir up a war between us, and then walk away to get a drink?"

"I didn't do anything," I breathed, my voice betraying the shiver running down my spine.

"You exist," Keiran whispered, his face dipping lower, his voice a low, predatory purr that vibrated right through me. "And that's problem enough. Cole wants to play the gentleman and protect you from the wolves. But he doesn't realize... I'm already in the den."

His free hand came up, his long, calloused fingers gently brushing a stray curl of my afro away from my neck, his knuckles lingering against my racing pulse point. The contrast between his cold words and the scorching heat of his skin was overwhelming.

Suddenly, the heavy beam of a high-powered security flashlight sliced through the dark hallway, cutting right toward our alcove.

"Adunni!" Cole’s voice barked out, frantic and sharp, his footsteps echoing rapidly on the marble just yards away. "Adunni, are you out here?!"

Keiran didn't move. He kept me pinned in the shadow, his thumb pressing just a fraction firmer against my pulse, his face inches from mine as the light swept closer and closer.

"What's it going to be, Adunni?" Keiran whispered into the dark, his lips nearly touching mine. "Are you going to scream for your prince... or are you going to stay quiet in the dark with me?"