Angelique couldn’t help but take another breath, drawing in the faint scent lingering on him.

The body that had encircled Angelique was visibly tense—ironically, he seemed more like the one trapped.

The woman who had called out earlier took a brief glance around the conservatory. Finding it empty, she mumbled something under her breath before quickly leaving.

Only after confirming that she was truly gone did the man finally release Angelique.

This elite academy was established by the Ainsworth family, and the conservatory belonged exclusively to Raymond. No matter how wealthy or powerful the students here were, no one dared to trespass—except, of course, Daphne, who had just been searching for him.

Raymond took his time examining the girl before him, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.

A pair of worn-out sneakers. A cheap, textureless coat. But above all that—her delicate, palm-sized face was a masterpiece of striking features. Full, rosy lips. A high, dainty nose. And most unforgettable of all—her wide, doe-like eyes blinking up at him.

Snowflakes clung to her long, thick lashes, melting into droplets that trembled before falling as she blinked.

Raymond had seen countless beautiful women before. In the upper class society, beauty was the least rare commodity.

With a single wave of his hand, thousands of women would throw themselves at his feet. Yet, for some reason, the way this girl looked at him—without any calculation, without any hidden motives—felt different.

'She doesn’t know who I am,' he thought. The realization settled in his chest.

"Are you the new scholarship student?" he asked.

Angelique bit her lower lip, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. She nodded.

"First year?"

"Third," she timidly answered.

Raymond raised a brow. "You transferred in your third year?"

"My family can’t afford to send me to college," she admitted softly. "If I get accepted here, then I'll qualify for the scholarship—it covers my tuition for all four years of university."

As she spoke, her bright eyes gleamed with quiet determination.

Like a single leaf drifting onto a still lake, sending ripples outward—only to vanish moments later.

An unfamiliar itch stirred in Raymond’s chest.

"What class?"

"A-Class..."

Even among the elite, there were rankings.

A-Class was exclusively for the heirs of old-money families—the absolute top of the hierarchy.

The only exception was the annual scholarship student.

"You’re planning to walk into class dressed like that?"

Angelique glanced down at her out-of-place coat, her expression filled with embarrassment. "A set of winter uniforms costs tens of thousands. I-"

Before she could finish, Raymond—who had always been aloof and untouchable—suddenly grabbed her wrist.

He had already noticed earlier—her arms were frighteningly thin, like a white jasmine swaying in the wind, fragile enough to snap with the slightest force.

And now, with her wrist in his grasp, he confirmed it.

'Does she even eat? Her cheeks still carried a hint of baby fat, yet her body was this frail.'

Of course, Angelique had no idea what he was thinking. From her perspective, all she saw were his sharp, phoenix-shaped eyes—dark and unreadable.

The distant melody of a symphony rang through the air. The class bell.

Angelique’s eyes widened in panic. "Oh no! I’m late!"

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, ready to bolt.

But before she could take a step, Raymond effortlessly grabbed the strap, stopping her in her tracks.

Desperation welled up in her eyes. "Please, I’m begging you! It’s my first day! If I’m late, I’ll lose my perfect attendance!"

At this academy, the girls fell into two categories—those who adored Raymond and those who feared him.

But someone like Angelique? That was a first.

The dull routine of school life had long bored him, yet now, for the first time in a while, something piqued his interest.

"Dressed like this, I guarantee you won’t last half a day before the other girls tear you apart."

Angelique’s grip on her backpack straps tightened. "But I-"

"Wait here. Don’t run off."

Raymond grabbed the suit jacket he had tossed aside earlier and pulled out his ID badge, throwing it into her hands.

Angelique cradled it carefully, reading out the name inscribed on it, word by word. "Ray... Raymond Ainsworth! You’re the chairman’s son?!"

Her reaction clearly amused him.

A smirk played at the corner of Raymond’s lips as he reached out and ruffled her hair. "Take this badge to the logistics office. Tell them to get you a uniform."

"No way! That’s way too much! I—I can’t afford to pay you back."

Raymond shot her a sharp glare. "You think I care about the cost of a school uniform?"

Angelique said nothing, but the way her puppy-like eyes drooped with grievance spoke volumes.

'Damn it,' he mentally cussed.

Raymond wondered if he had lost his mind. He had always preferred mature, curvaceous women, yet today—because of this tiny, scrawny thing—his mood had been fluctuating all over the place.

"If you’re really that uncomfortable with it, then let’s make a deal," he said lazily. "From now on, in this school, I’ll be your master, and you’ll be my servant. Whatever I say, you do."

Angelique’s eyes flickered with hesitation. "But..."

Raymond assumed she was unwilling, so he added, "I’ll even pay you a salary. You name the price."

"Deal!" Angelique agreed instantly.

Raymond’s lips twitched. So that hesitation just now—it was all because the money wasn’t good enough yet?!

Shaking his head, he instructed, "Once you leave the conservatory, walk straight ahead. When you see the rose garden, take a right—that’ll lead you to the academic building."

With that, he stretched out on the bench, draping his suit jacket over his face, and lazily waved her off.

As Angelique stepped out of the greenhouse, the softness in her expression vanished. The delicate, pitiful gleam in her big eyes was replaced by an icy sharpness.

She lowered her gaze, staring at the wrist Raymond had grabbed. Without a word, she pulled a pack of wet wipes from her backpack and meticulously wiped the spot clean.

"Master? Servant? How ridiculous!"

The wind whispered through the dense trees, carrying her quiet murmur into the void.

"Sis, was it really someone this foolish who got you killed?"

There was no answer.

One year ago, Angelique’s sister had died here.

They said she had fallen from the school’s rooftop late at night.

A ridiculous explanation. It was then that Angelique first understood what "nobility" truly meant—a world that devoured people whole, leaving not even bones behind.

She and her sister, Jillian, had been separated from birth. Their parents had never married, so they only discovered each other’s existence later in life. Despite being raised a thousand kilometers apart, they had grown incredibly close.

She still remembered the day her sister had called, excited beyond words.

"I got in! As long as I meet the academic requirements, the scholarship will cover everything—even tuition at the world’s top universities! I’m going to make a name for myself in the future!"

Yet, not even two months after enrolling, she died.

Angelique never believed their so-called "accident" explanation. And when she read through her sister’s journal, everything became clear.

At the heart of it all was a name—Raymond. He was the heir to the Ainsworth Holdings, the man who held the country’s economy in the palm of his hand.

All because of an argument with his childhood friend, Daphne, Raymond had lashed out with cutting words. Unfortunately, Angelique’s sister had overheard them while passing by.

Pointing at her, Raymond had sneered as he spat, "Even if I were to fall for a poor scholarship student, it would never be you. Do you get it now?"

Daphne had known perfectly well that Angelique’s sister was just an excuse—just a pawn in Raymond’s rejection of her.

But she hadn’t cared.

From that day forward, Angelique’s sister had been subjected to relentless torment, a nightmare that only ended when she was driven to the rooftop.

Angelique knew that the greenhouse was Raymond’s private sanctuary. She believed he was nothing more than a spoiled, arrogant young master who thinks the world revolves around him.

But no matter how high and mighty he believes himself to be, he was still just a man.

And men, when faced with a seemingly helpless woman, are often ruled by their misguided sense of heroism. That was the mistake Raymond made the moment he laid eyes on her.

Angelique had recognized the girl searching for Raymond earlier—it was Daphne.

Unexpectedly, she had played right into Angelique’s hands.

She clenched the ID badge in her fist as she murmured, "Daphne, Raymond. You people, who see human lives as nothing more than dust beneath your feet—I will make sure you pay the price you deserve."

—

It was rare for a scholarship student to transfer during senior year—let alone one who strolled in close to ten o’clock.

A mere scholarship student had the audacity to arrive this late?

The privileged young heirs of the academy were far from pleased.

Every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on the classroom entrance.

Angelique followed the homeroom teacher inside, her pace steady and unhurried.

The Yale University girls’ uniform was selected by a school-wide vote—a fitted dark blue blazer paired with a high-waisted, body-hugging skirt in a Korean-inspired design. Since the school building was fully enclosed with 24/7 heating, winter coats were unnecessary.

The moment Angelique removed her coat, the entire room fell silent.

All eyes were drawn to her long, slender legs.

The curve-hugging blazer accentuated her delicate waist, while her long brown hair cascaded effortlessly over her shoulders. Her fair, makeup-free face was tinged with a natural rosy hue—like an innocent rabbit that had wandered into a den of wolves.

The boys erupted into whistles and cheers. But Angelique was far more attuned to the silent hostility lurking beneath the noise.

She shifted her gaze slightly, locking eyes with Daphne and her entourage.

In person, Daphne was not nearly as stunning as the investigation files had suggested. She had a cold, synthetic beauty—the kind enhanced by technology rather than nature.

Faced with Angelique’s effortlessly angelic looks, hostility burned bright in Daphne’s eyes.

Angelique feigned obliviousness, blinking innocently before offering a polite, friendly smile.

Daphne despised women who were prettier than her. And a lowly, worthless scholarship student like Angelique? How dare she possess such a face?!

The homeroom teacher, knowing the privileged students would never truly welcome a scholarship recipient, kept the introduction brief.

"This is Angelique Monroe. Take that empty seat in the back."

Angelique followed the direction of his gesture—only to meet a pair of gentle, warm eyes.

Soft chestnut bangs fell over his brow, naturally drawing attention to his clear, deep gaze.

The man nodded at her in greeting before turning to look out the window.

'Daryl Thompson.' She repeated the name in her mind.

The boy her sister had written about over and over in her diary.

The boy she had secretly loved.

The one who had smiled at her, called her name with kindness, tutored her in subjects she struggled with.

Yet, when rumors about her and Raymond spread, he had crushed her confession with brutal finality.

He had said—"I was just curious about your relationship with Raymond. You didn’t actually think I liked you, did you? A pathetic, low-class girl like you?"