I Was Never Yours

Everyone knew that Angelique was Raymond Ainsworth’s only weakness—the sole flaw in the otherwise untouchable heir of the prestigious Ainsworth family.

He placed her on a pedestal, as if he would pluck the stars from the sky just to lay them at her feet.

And when Angelique wished for it, Raymond sent their enemies straight to hell.

Even when the once-revered prince had fallen to nothing more than a rat scurrying through the sewers, Raymond never once thought of letting go of Angelique’s hand.

"Angeli, I will never let anything hurt you," he whispered.

But she only smiled.

Outside, police sirens wailed through the night. She pulled her hand away from his grasp, her cold eyes meeting Raymond’s shocked, bloodshot ones.

"Did you ever... even love me?" His voice trembled as he asked.

"Never," Angelique spat coldly.

——

Wrapped in a cheap coat and carrying a worn-out backpack, Angelique walked through the elite academy that gathered the nation’s most distinguished heirs.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she veered away from the main school buildings, heading instead toward a secluded garden.

The dense forest ahead seemed endless, shrouded in a biting morning chill that made her shiver.

Then, at last, she saw it—a fountain adorned with sculptures. A hint of a smile finally graced her delicate features.

'Found it,' she muttered internally.

Not far from the fountain stood a transparent glass conservatory.

The moment she pushed open the door, warmth and humidity enveloped her. The air was thick with the intoxicating fragrance of rare flowers, each petal a silent testament to the owner's noble status.

She carefully concealed the darkness in her gaze beneath her long lashes, replacing it with an innocent, harmless expression.

Taking a seat on a bench deep within the conservatory, she rubbed her frozen palms together.

With a soft, aggrieved pout, she murmured, "I should’ve taken the main road. This school is like a maze—I can’t even find the exit."

She pulled a folded map from her backpack, scanning for the direction of the main teaching building.

Just then, a girl’s voice called from outside.

"Raymond! Raymond, are you in the conservatory?"

Angelique was just about to respond when a cold hand suddenly clamped over her mouth.

Another arm wrapped around her waist, effortlessly pulling her into the shadows of the trees.

The unexpected attack left her momentarily stunned, her mind scrambling for clarity.

The man's large hand covered her nose and mouth, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Panic surged through her as she struggled violently.

"Don't move," a low, icy voice murmured in her ear. "Or I'll kill you."

The chilling words pierced through her fogged thoughts like a gust of winter wind.

At this school, even the most shocking incidents could be dismissed as mere accidents.

She had no doubt—if he said he’d kill her, he meant it.

Her body tensed before she slowly nodded, her hands gripping his wrist as she carefully pulled his hand away from her face.

She could feel his hesitation.

His fingers stiffened under her touch, but as if afraid she would resist, he didn’t tighten his grip again.

Raymond had never held a girl this close before.

She smelled nothing like the perfume-drenched socialites who always surrounded him. Instead, a faint scent of fresh grass lingered on her, surprisingly pleasant.

Moments ago, he had been fuming over Daphne’s relentless pestering. Yet now, an odd sense of calm washed over him, and unknowingly, his grip loosened slightly.

Angelique finally took a sharp breath, air rushing into her lungs. As her mind cleared, she tilted her head slightly, catching sight of the figure behind her through the shifting shadows.

He was at least a head taller than her.

The scent of mint and a trace of tobacco clung to his skin—a far cry from the overpowering stench of cigarettes she was used to.