3. You’re Not Who I Thought
1317 Words
Alina barely made it to the corner before the stack of print layouts in her arms began to tilt dangerously.
She tightened her grip and picked up her pace, heels clicking over the gleaming tile of the media wing. The student magazine’s layout deadline was breathing down her neck, and the editorial staff was already texting her for final proofs. She adjusted her hold, eyes scanning the floor ahead—
And crashed straight into a wall of someone.
Her breath whooshed out. Papers flew like startled birds. She stumbled backward, bracing herself against the wall with a soft grunt.
“Oh— I’m so sorry, I didn’t see—”
The apology died on her tongue.
Kael Thorne stood before her.
Rolled sleeves. Collar unbuttoned just enough to hint at danger. Black jeans. The kind of posture that didn’t ask for space — it owned it.
He didn’t kneel. Didn’t reach for the scattered papers. He stood still, jaw tight, cold gray-blue eyes fixed on her with the intensity of a man evaluating a hostile merger.
“If this was a stunt,” he said flatly, “it’s poorly timed.”
Alina blinked. “Excuse me?”
He gave a slow, impassive sweep of her upturned pages, then returned his gaze to her like she was some minor inconvenience.
“You don’t have to stage accidents to get attention,” he said. “There are easier ways to start conversations.”
For a moment, she just stared at him — equal parts stunned and insulted.
She crouched quickly, gathering her layouts. “I wasn’t starting anything. I wasn’t even looking.”
Kael remained still. Arms crossed now. Watching her. Judging her. His silence felt heavier than words.
She rose slowly, pages cradled to her chest.
“I wasn’t pretending anything,” she said, voice crisp. “Not everything is about you.”
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears — not from fear. From sheer disbelief. She’d heard stories about Kael Thorne — the stone-faced heir with a temper and a net worth, the King of Cold Shoulders — but she hadn’t expected this level of hostility.
Kael’s gaze flicked over her features, something unreadable in his expression.
“Of course not,” he murmured. “Only the ones who say it never is.”
Inside, he registered every detail — not because he wanted to, but because his instincts didn’t allow anything less.
Her voice hadn’t trembled. Her hands were steady. She hadn’t simpered, hadn’t simpered, hadn’t smiled wide and bright like the others.
Still. He didn’t trust clean faces or clever tones. Innocence was always the first lie.
Alina’s jaw tightened. Something cold and poised straightened her spine.
She exhaled — not quite a sigh, not quite a scoff — and spoke clearly.
“You can relax,” she said, cool and calm as winter air. “I’m not one of your followers. I already have the love of my life.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
No flustered look back. No flushed cheeks. No slow retreat.
She walked away like he hadn’t just thrown the weight of his name at her feet.
Kael’s eyes followed her — not because he wanted to, but because his instincts refused to let it go.
She didn’t beg. She didn’t blush. She didn’t try to explain.
She just dismissed me like I wasn’t worth the confrontation.
And why the hell does that bother me?
The echo of her voice trailed after her.
“I already have the love of my life.”
Kael’s brows furrowed. The words had been so matter-of-fact. Not defiant. Not performative. Just… true.
He hated that it stuck.
They all say that. Until they don’t.
Still, something about her didn’t match the pattern.
The way she looked at him — no hunger, no fear. The way she left.
Kael didn’t realize his jaw was still clenched until he noticed the tension in his molars.
From around the far corner of the hallway, someone else stood in silence — unnoticed.
Sierra Langford leaned against the lockers, a perfectly folded piece of paper in her hand, her eyes narrowed in thoughtful calculation.
She had just seen a very interesting shift in Kael Thorne’s attention.
And she wasn’t about to waste it.
⸻
The campus café smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and rain-damp students when Alina sank into the seat across from Sierra later that afternoon. The encounter had left a strange aftertaste she couldn’t quite explain, and she found herself wanting to talk it out.
Sierra, as always, listened with that golden-girl smile — head tilted just enough to appear engaged, fingers circling the rim of her straw.
“He thought you did it on purpose?” she echoed, blinking wide eyes.
“Like I deliberately ran into him to get attention or something,” Alina said, wrapping both hands around her coffee cup. “It was… weird. Cold. Like he already decided who I was before I opened my mouth.”
Sierra laughed, short and sharp. “Well, he is Kael Thorne. He probably thinks gravity wants to seduce him.”
Alina smiled faintly. “He’s certainly full of himself.”
“But—” Sierra’s voice turned teasing “—you have to admit, he’s gorgeous.”
Alina shook her head. “That kind of coldness ruins the face. I felt dismissed, not impressed.”
Sierra leaned back, sipping from her drink. “You didn’t feel flattered? Not even a little?”
Alina paused. “No.”
Sierra’s lashes lowered. “Interesting.”
The moment stretched — not long, but long enough for something invisible to pass between them.
Then Sierra’s tone brightened. “Anyway! You are still coming to Max’s party, right? You have to now. Even Kael might show. Could be fun.”
Alina hesitated. “I don’t know… Elias isn’t into big parties, and I have a presentation the next day.”
“Oh, come on,” Sierra said, smile sweet and persistent. “It’s just one night. You deserve to be seen. Let loose a little.”
Alina gave a noncommittal hum and glanced down at her cup, unaware of the glint in Sierra’s eyes as she did.
⸻
Kael stood on the balcony of his penthouse that night, the skyline stretching endlessly beneath a curtain of city light. A low wind stirred his collar. The drink in his hand had long since gone warm.
Inside, his phone buzzed on the kitchen island — another contract, another alert. He didn’t move.
His mind kept circling the girl with the honey-soft voice and too-steady eyes.
“I already have the love of my life.”
It had sounded like a rehearsed line at first. But something about the way she said it…
She hadn’t flirted. Hadn’t lingered. She’d walked away without hesitation, without even trying to catch his attention — and somehow, that irritated him more than if she had.
He told himself she was just like the rest. Pretending innocence. Wearing grace like armor.
Still… something itched at the back of his mind. Something that hadn’t gone quiet since she left.
Behind him, the door creaked.
Jax strolled in, barefoot and carrying two bags of takeout. “I brought Thai. You need to stop forgetting dinner is a thing.”
Kael didn’t move.
Jax looked up from unpacking. “Earth to Ice King. You look like you saw a ghost.”
Kael finally turned. “Just someone who thinks she’s untouchable.”
Jax grinned. “Sounds like your type.”
Kael didn’t answer. Instead, he walked inside, picked up his phone, and opened the university newsletter again. Her name was still in the top five trending searches.
He scrolled past it and opened a legal draft instead.
Work was simpler. Work made sense.
People?
People lied.
“She’s not different,” Kael told himself. But he didn’t sound convinced.
- Writer
