Every day after class, Alaric found his eyes betraying him. He had always treated women as nothing more than stress relief—quick, physical, and forgettable. But ever since Zaylee Whitmore walked into his life, it was different. His usual “stress buster” had lost its taste. He couldn’t bring himself to touch anyone.
Alaric (inwardly, frustrated):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCGC63p8rci
“What the hell is wrong with me…?”
He knew the answer. Her elegance. Her smile. The way she looked at life with freedom, even though her world forced her into etiquette and polish. Zaylee was different.
What Alaric didn’t know was that she, too, had felt something that day. When she saw Alaric laugh so freely when she caught that glimpse of him as someone who lived without pretending, her heart had marked it. For the first time, Zaylee wanted to know someone—not as Whitmore, not as prodigy—but simply as herself.
Zayden dropped Zaylee at Harvard Medical School, while Alaric dropped off Alana. In the scuffle of Alana teasing him, Alaric’s driving license slipped unnoticed from his jacket pocket. Zaylee spotted it later. She held it for a long time, to gave it to alana but she is not even willing to talk with her after that debating with herself, then gathered her courage.
The next day, Zaylee walked into the Harvard Business School, her presence turning heads instantly. Her tweed dress swayed with every step, her poise unmatched.
Zaylee:52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFCN4MXZdzZ
“Do you know where I can find Alaric Hawke?”
Student 1 (whispering, shocked):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkNKK7shr9P
“Isn’t that Zaylee Whitmore? What’s she doing here?”
Student 2 (rolling eyes):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8P1UxCyt9t
“Why do good girls always end up with bad guys…”
Student 3 (muttering enviously):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6F9Tgdky9H
“Why does Alaric always get everything good?”
She ignored the whispers, her voice calm but curious as she approached a small group.
The boys stiffened; the girls exchanged jealous glances. Before they could answer, a tall, lean man with casual charm—James, Alaric’s close friend—stepped forward.
James (raising an eyebrow):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPmhyBLluSw
“You’re looking for him?”
Zaylee (handing a small card):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhAf3obMRWY
“This is his license. Can you give it to him?”
James blinked at the card like it was radioactive.
James (hesitant, shaking his head):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6oKv3SgCgZ
“…No. You give it to him yourself.”
Zaylee (smiling politely, refusing):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCVTqxRZZmz
“Just… please give it to him.”
She stepped back—and collided with someone solid. Turning, her eyes widened. Alaric. His jaw tightened at the sight of her.
Alaric (muttering under his breath):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDPoWFcSTIR
“…What the hell is she doing here…”
Before she could explain, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away, threading through the corridors until they found a quiet space. His hand stayed on hers, firm, warm, almost trembling.
Zaylee (gentle, glancing down):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeSVrPWVQ5m
“My hand…”
Alaric flinched, realizing, and quickly let go, flustered. For once, the arrogant Hawke heir was speechless.
Zaylee (soft laugh):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSxbkYf1xvQ
“…I almost forgot why I came here.”
She handed the license to him.
Alaric (voice low, touched):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd8g63qwNhj
“…Thank you, Ayle.”
Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Ayle?”
He looked into her eyes, a strand of her hair falling across her face. Without thinking, he brushed it back, fingertips lingering near her cheek.
Alaric (smirking, but tender):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjjK4FZlYW1
“Yes. Ayle.”
Zaylee smiled. Her chest warmed at the sound of it.
For the first time in his life, Alaric Hawke felt something raw, unfamiliar—love.
Alaric (clearing his throat):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVWJ3O8ALsB
“Why don’t we sit for a while?”
They sat side by side, silence speaking louder than words. Their eyes locked, laughter dancing unspoken between them. Alaric bit his lip, smiling hysterically, his usual cockiness replaced by boyish giddiness.
Zaylee (standing gently):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡva0qseoSuZ
“I… need to go.”
Alaric (grinning, flustered):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMaRtCLt7zm
“Yeah… you should.”
They both lingered, staring, silently giving consent to a bond neither dared name.
Alaric insisted on driving her. The Maserati purred as they pulled up at Harvard Medical School. Before she left, he leaned slightly closer.
Alaric (whispering, almost shy):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡePHO6abov1
“You’re amazing, Ayle.”
Zaylee (smiling softly, stepping out):52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOtdHn7iN21
“Bye-bye.”
She walked away glowing, heart racing. Alaric sat frozen, gripping the steering wheel, then burst into wild laughter, giddy enough to leap from the car. The Hawke heir who had owned everything now realized he was owned—by her smile.
ns216.73.216.133da2
and then Add to home screen.