Chapter 3— The Rivalry That Wasn’t Just Rivalry
1292 Words
Aiden Hale prided himself on three things: precision, preparation, and the ability to detach from anything unnecessary.
But today, detaching felt impossible.
Because everywhere he turned—in his office, in his inbox, in the hollow space beneath his ribs—one name echoed like a stubborn heartbeat:
Leon Valtor.
Aiden rubbed his temples. He had a company to run, a merger to finalize, and a bond he was determined to pretend didn’t exist.
He did not have time for Leon.
Unfortunately, Leon never cared about Aiden’s “plans.”
A soft alert chimed from Aiden’s tablet.
Incoming Visitor — Leon Valtor
Aiden froze. “Why is he here?”
His assistant’s voice fluttered nervously over the intercom. “Mr. Valtor insisted it was… urgent.”
Of course he did.
Aiden didn’t bother fixing his expression before saying, “Send him in.”
The door opened with a soft click.
Leon walked in as though he owned the room—not arrogantly, but naturally, like confidence lived in his bones. Today he wore a midnight-blue suit that made his eyes look warmer, sharper. Aiden tried not to notice.
He failed.
Leon stopped in front of the desk, tilting his head slightly. “You look tired.”
Aiden glared. “And you look persistent.”
Leon laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Still taking it.”
Aiden inhaled slowly, praying for patience. “State your business.”
Leon tapped the folder in his hand. “Our university is hosting an alumni event next week. Keynote duel speech.”
Aiden blinked. “Keynote… what?”
Leon looked too proud of himself. “They want us to co-host.”
Aiden’s soul left his body.
“No.”
“Yes,” Leon corrected gently. “We were the top students of our year. They want the ‘legendary rivals’ to speak about ambition, bonds, and leadership.”
“The organizers clearly have no idea what they’re asking.”
“Oh, they know,” Leon said lightly. “They literally titled the event: When Rivals Build Empires.”
Aiden felt his eye twitch.
Leon grinned. “We were iconic, Aiden.”
“No. We were competitive.”
“No,” Leon replied softly, “we were something else entirely.”
Aiden’s heartbeat stuttered again.
He hated that Leon could do that with just a sentence.
---
FLASHBACK — UNIVERSITY GARDENS (6 YEARS AGO)
Aiden walked briskly across the campus garden, textbooks wedged under his arm. He had an exam in twenty minutes and he needed quiet.
Which, of course, meant he immediately ran into the exact opposite of quiet:
Leon.
He was standing under a cherry blossom tree, surrounded by a group of students. Laughing, charming, magnetic in that infuriating way that made half the campus adore him.
Aiden tried to walk around them.
Tried.
But Leon looked up at the exact moment Aiden passed by.
Their eyes met.
Aiden’s steps faltered.
Leon excused himself from the crowd and jogged over, smiling too brightly.
“Aiden! You vanished after the debate yesterday.”
“I was busy.”
“You ran away.”
“I do not run.”
Leon leaned in, voice dropping playfully. “You ran.”
Aiden’s jaw clenched. “If you continue talking, I will do worse than run.”
Leon burst into laughter—warm, unfiltered, full of sunshine Aiden refused to enjoy.
“Why are you always so serious?”
“Why are you always… not?”
Leon stopped laughing.
For the first time, Aiden saw something unguarded in his eyes.
“Because if I stop smiling,” Leon said quietly, “I’ll think too much.”
Aiden hadn’t known what to do with that answer.
So he had done what he always did:
He avoided it.
“We have an exam,” Aiden muttered. “And you’re wasting time.”
Leon fell into step beside him. “Walking with you isn’t a waste of time.”
Aiden tripped.
Just a little.
Leon noticed.
A slow grin spread across his face. “Did you just stumble—”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Leon—”
“Oh, this is going into my memory collection.”
“Leon.”
“Forever.”
Aiden considered pushing him into the fountain.
---
BACK TO PRESENT
Aiden closed the memory away like a drawer he refused to open.
“What do you want, Leon?” he asked, voice tight.
Leon held out the invitation letter. “We’re both scheduled. You can reject it, but then the university will send reporters to ask why their top graduate suddenly can’t stand on stage with his rival.”
Aiden exhaled sharply. “You planned this.”
“I didn’t,” Leon said with a small laugh. “But I’m definitely enjoying it.”
Of course he was.
Aiden sank into his chair. “Fine. I’ll attend. But don’t expect cooperation.”
Leon’s eyes softened. “I never expected that from you.”
Something about the honesty in his tone made Aiden’s chest tighten.
“Then why agree to co-host?” Aiden asked quietly.
Leon looked at him—really looked at him.
“With anyone else, it would be boring.”
Aiden looked away. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re fun to bother.”
“I am not—”
Leon smiled, stepping closer. Too close.
Aiden’s heartbeat spiked.
Leon noticed.
Of course he did.
His voice dropped into that dangerously gentle tone. “Aiden… can I ask you something?”
“No.”
“I’ll ask anyway.”
Aiden braced himself.
Leon’s eyes held warmth, curiosity, and something deeper—something only the bond dared to whisper.
“Why do you try so hard to pretend we were only rivals?”
Aiden went still.
“Because we were,” he said stiffly. “That’s all.”
Leon’s gaze flickered with disbelief, amusement, hurt, affection—emotions he tried to hide but never could.
“Aiden,” Leon said softly, “if we were just rivals… why did you look at me like that?”
Aiden’s breath caught. “Like what?”
Leon stepped closer again.
Too close.
“Like I wasn’t supposed to matter,” Leon whispered, “but I did.”
Aiden’s throat tightened painfully.
Leon held his gaze, voice barely above a breath.
“And now the bond is proving it.”
Aiden stepped back, breaking the moment before it became something he couldn’t escape.
“This conversation is over.”
Leon studied him quietly. “But you didn’t deny it.”
Aiden swallowed. “Leave, Leon.”
Leon didn’t argue. Instead, he set the folder gently on the desk.
“I’ll send the rehearsal schedule. And Aiden…”
Aiden reluctantly looked up.
Leon’s smile was soft—too soft.
“Even if you spend your whole life running from this, I’ll still be on the same path.”
Aiden’s heart tripped.
Leon walked toward the door.
“Why?” Aiden’s voice escaped before he could stop it. “Why are you doing this?”
Leon paused, turning slightly, his silhouette framed by the doorway.
“Because,” Leon said quietly, “you were the first person who ever made me want to try.”
Aiden stopped breathing.
Leon left.
And Aiden remained frozen, pulse unsteady, mind spiraling.
He hated how the room felt emptier after Leon walked out.
He hated how silence felt louder now.
He hated how the bond pulsed gently under his skin—like a question he didn’t want to answer.
But most of all—
Aiden hated knowing the upcoming alumni event would drag every buried emotion into the light.
Because fate wasn’t waiting anymore.
It was pushing.
- Writer
