EPISODE11:- THE CAR OUTSIDE THE WINDOW
746 Words
It was one of those lazy Thursday afternoons when the heat made even the ceiling fans tired. The class buzzed faintly with chatter while they waited for the lecturer to arrive.
Then a low, expensive rumble rolled through the open windows.
Heads turned. Outside, a silver-gray Mercedes Maybach glided to a stop besides the faculty building. The sound alone silenced half the class.
The tinted window slid down, and there he was—Lucian Frost, the name that always made whispers travel fast. Handsome, confident, the kind of man who looked like he’d stepped straight out of a billboard. He leaned against the car, phone in one hand, bouquet of white roses in the other.
Gasps rippled across the room.
“Is that Lucian Frost?”
“No way—he’s here?”
“For her?”
Everyone turned toward Isabella Monroe.
She smiled, pretending surprise she’d been waiting for all morning. “Oh… that’s just Lucian,” she said lightly, standing up as though being summoned by royalty.
Through the window, Lucian spotted her and waved. “Bella! Ready?”
She gave a theatrical laugh, gathering her bag. “He’s taking me to dinner,” she announced. “Somewhere special.”
“Where?” someone asked, wide-eyed.
“The Crystal Crown. Ever heard of it? One of the most exclusive restaurants on the planet.”
A ripple of envy swept the room. Phones came out, pictures were snapped, and whispers spread like wildfire.
Only Leo Grayson stayed still in his seat near the back, notebook open, pen balanced between his fingers. He knew the restaurant well—too well. His father’s company owned it. The head chef, a man named Armand, used to call him “Young Master Leo.”
He smiled faintly to himself.
Enjoy the show, Bella, he thought. Even the menu you’ll be holding tonight was printed with my family crest.
Beside him, Layla Beaumont watched Isabella’s parade toward the door with a mix of amusement and disdain.
“She really thinks that makes her important,” she murmured.
Leo looked up. “You don’t?”
Layla smirked. “Please. Anyone can buy a seat at a table. The real question is who owns the table.”
For a heartbeat, their eyes met—hers sharp, his unreadable—and then both looked away.
Outside, Lucian opened the car door with a flourish, cameras clicking from curious students. Isabella stepped in, blowing a kiss to the window crowd before the Maybach purred away.
The classroom slowly filled with chatter again—half jealousy, half gossip.
Naomi whispered, “Did you see the roses? Imported from France!”
Julian added, “The whole city will talk about this tonight.”
Leo gathered his books quietly. He didn’t need to join the conversation; he already knew how those stories ended.
As he passed Layla’s desk, she said under her breath, “You don’t seem impressed.”
He gave a small smile. “I’ve eaten there before. The food’s good—but the company matters more.”
Layla frowned, uncertain whether he was joking. “You? At The Crystal Crown?”
He shrugged. “Maybe once. Long time ago.”
She studied him, trying to decide if he was teasing her or telling the truth. Something in his calmness unsettled her—the quiet kind of confidence that doesn’t need to prove anything.
That evening, while the internet overflowed with dazzling photos of Isabella and Lucian’s glittering dinner, Leo quietly ended his shift at the hotel. As he made his way toward the staff exit, he passed the kitchen door where Chef Raymond was barking orders over the hiss of boiling pots and the thud of crates being unloaded.
He slipped past without a word, pushing through the swinging doors and stepping into the cold night. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement like fragments of broken glass. With a deep breath, he turned up his collar and hurried toward The Crystal Crown,
“Ah, Monsieur Leo,” Armand said with a grin. “We served your friend tonight. The Monroe girl. She ordered the golden truffle pasta—said she’d never tasted anything so fine.”
Leo chuckled softly. “I’m glad you treated her well.”
“Always, for you,” the chef said warmly. “You are family here.”
Leo nodded. “And that’s exactly how I want it to stay—for now.”
- Writer
