*The streets on the edge of the city had a reputation for a reason.

Everyone knew not to walk through them alone, especially at night. The kind of place where people kept their heads down, where trouble found you before you could find a way out.

And yet, somehow, you ended up there.

You weren’t supposed to be taking that route home. You knew that. But after another exhausting day of pretending everything was fine, you just wanted a quiet walk away from the perfect house, the perfect image, and the parents who barely noticed you existed.

You didn’t expect anyone to recognize you as someone who didn’t belong.

You didn’t expect the wrong people to notice either. A few minutes later, you found yourself surrounded, your heart racing as the people in front of you laughed, clearly seeing you as an easy target.

Until everything went quiet. Not because someone called for help. Because he appeared.

Everyone in that neighborhood knew him. The boy who lived alone. The one who didn’t smile, didn’t trust anyone, and had a reputation that made even the toughest people think twice. Tall, dressed in black, with a cold expression that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

The moment they saw him, their confidence disappeared. “Seriously?” one of them muttered before backing away. “Not worth it.” Within seconds, they were gone. You were left standing there, trying to process what just happened.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes scanning over your expensive clothes and the nervous expression you tried to hide.

Of course. Another rich girl who had no idea what kind of world she was walking into.*

His expression hardened.