Ruling silverlake High

The price of Admission

Being Zander Sterling’s public companion didn't make me popular. It made me a pariah with a target on my back.As the week bled into the next, the psychological warfare shifted. No one dared to throw a prank at me anymore—not with Zander constantly anchoring me to his side during breaks—but the silence was louder than the whispers. Girls who used to ignore me now glared with unadulterated venom. Teachers suddenly looked at me with suspicion, assuming I was using some back-alley tactic to secure my place at the head table.But the hardest part wasn't the school. It was the crushing weight of the golden chains Zander had wrapped around my wrist.Every afternoon, right before my shift at the diner, a sleek black SUV would be waiting for me at the campus gates. The driver, a quiet man named Marcus, would open the door without a word. Zander would already be inside, his long legs stretched out, his eyes glued to his tablet as he analyzed his father’s real estate portfolios. He expected me to sit next to him, study my AP English lit, and say nothing.It was a beautiful, suffocating routine.On Friday, the routine broke.Instead of taking me straight to The Greasy Spoon, the SUV pulled up to a massive, gated estate on the edge of Silverlake’s most exclusive cliffside neighborhood. The house was a sprawling architectural marvel of glass and white stone, overlooking the crashing waves of the Atlantic."Why are we here, Zander?" I asked, my grip tightening on my notebook as Marcus opened my door. "My shift starts in forty minutes.""Your shift is covered," Zander said smoothly, sliding his tablet into his leather briefcase. He stepped out of the car, adjusting the collar of his uniform shirt. "My father is hosting a private dinner tonight for the Silverlake Board of Trustees. You're coming."My heart did a violent, panicked flip against my ribs. "Are you insane? Look at me. I'm wearing a faded uniform and worn-out sneakers. I don't belong at a billionaire’s board dinner."Zander stopped, turning around to face me. The ocean breeze caught his dark, messy hair, throwing it over those piercing gray eyes. He took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us until the heat radiating from him cut through the chilly coastal air."You belong wherever I put you, Aria," he murmured, his voice low and intensely serious. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing against the slight bruise on my arm from my late-night shifts at the diner. "Besides, my father thinks you're a distraction. He thinks a scholarship girl is wasting my time. I want him to see exactly who is occupying my mind."Before I could process the strange, heavy weight of his words, Zander grabbed my hand. His fingers laced firmly through mine—warm, calloused, and utterly unyielding. He dragged me up the grand stone steps and through the towering glass front doors.

The interior of the Sterling estate was breathtakingly cold. Perfect marble, minimalist art, and a massive dining room where a dozen older, wealthy men and women in evening gowns and custom tuxedos were already sipping champagne.At the head of the long table stood Charles Sterling.He looked like an older, hardened version of Zander. His hair was stark silver, his jawline like granite, and his eyes were a pale, completely heartless gray. The moment we stepped into the room, his gaze dropped to our linked hands.The temperature in the room plummeted."Zander," Charles Sterling said, his voice a deep, gravelly boom that commanded absolute silence from the guests. "You're late. And you brought guests to a private function.""This is Aria Montgomery, Father," Zander said, his voice smooth and entirely devoid of the respect a son usually gave a parent. He didn't let go of my hand. If anything, his grip tightened, pulling me closer to his side. "She's the top academic student at Silverlake Prep. I thought the Board of Trustees would appreciate meeting the actual talent funding their endowments."A tense, suffocating silence blanketed the dining room. Charles Sterling walked slowly toward us, his polished shoes echoing like gunshots against the marble. He stopped a foot away, completely ignoring his son, his cruel eyes boring into mine."Miss Montgomery," Charles said, his tone dripping with fake politeness. "The diner girl. I reviewed your mother's credit history this morning. Quite tragic. I understand you're quite skilled at... serving others. But let me make one thing perfectly clear to you."He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a harsh, icy whisper meant only for us."A Sterling does not play with charity cases. You are a temporary amusement to my son. A phase. Do not mistake his rebellion for affection, or I will ensure your family’s little financial struggle becomes a permanent ruin. Am I understood?"

My breath hitched. The raw, calculated malice in his voice made me want to shrink back. But as I looked at the man, I felt Zander’s entire body tense beside me. The muscles in Zander's jaw were locked so tight they looked ready to snap.I inhaled a sharp breath, refusing to let Charles Sterling see me break."I understand completely, Mr. Sterling," I said, my voice ringing out clearly, shocking the surrounding guests. "But you should probably talk to your son about that. Because from where I'm standing, it looks like he's the one who can't seem to leave the diner girl alone."A low, collective gasp rippled through the room. Charles Sterling’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure fury.But beside me, Zander let out a low, dark chuckle. He pulled my hand up, his eyes locked onto mine with a terrifyingly beautiful, possessive heat that sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through my veins."Careful, Father," Zander warned softly, his gray eyes flashing with a dangerous promise as he stared at the billionaire. "I told you. What's mine stays mine. And you don't dictate my circle anymore."