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?"

Daryl’s words had been the final straw that broke her sister’s spirit.

Compared to Raymond, Daryl was even more repulsive—so much so that just thinking about him made Angelique feel sick.

She took the empty seat beside him, tilting her head slightly as she flashed a polite, friendly smile.

“I look forward to learning from you.”

Even if she was just a lowly scholarship student, Daryl wouldn’t outright reject a girl’s goodwill.

“Likewise.” His tone was amicable, but there was an unmistakable distance in his smile.

“Tsk, another seductive little fox.” The voice dripped with contempt.

Angelique turned to the source—it was Daphne.

She was twirling a metal pen between her fingers, legs crossed, making no effort to hide the disgust in her eyes.

“What are you looking at? Do you really think a filthy nobody like you has the right to look at me?”

Daphne had been in a foul mood all morning. She had taken the time to style her hair and perfect her makeup, all in hopes of seeing Raymond. Yet, she hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him.

To make matters worse, a scholarship student had transferred in.

A parasite in Class A! The kind she despised the most.

And of all things, this one had the audacity to be pretty.

Even if she refused to admit it, Daphne couldn’t ignore how stunning Angelique’s face was.

Angelique shrank slightly in her seat, avoiding further provocation. She busied herself by taking things out of her backpack one by one.

Then, suddenly—a metal ID badge slipped out and clattered onto the marble floor with a sharp, piercing sound.

The noise immediately caught Daphne’s attention.

It was a minor incident, nothing of note—yet Angelique inhaled sharply as if she had been caught committing a crime. She hastily crouched down, pressing a hand over the name on the badge as if trying to hide it.

The more she tried to conceal it, the more curious others became.

She could feel Daphne’s prying gaze boring into her back.

Beneath the curtain of her dark hair, Angelique’s lips curled ever so slightly.

—

When lunchtime arrived, Angelique casually stepped out of the classroom.

As she passed by the window, she caught sight of Daphne heading toward her desk.

Satisfied, she continued on her way.

She ran all the way to the greenhouse, but no matter where she looked, Raymond was nowhere to be found.

“So, he’s already gone?” she muttered to herself, a trace of disappointment in her voice.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect the uniform to suit you this well.”

A familiar, lazy voice echoed from above.

Angelique looked up—just in time to see a figure in white leap down from the tree, landing gracefully right in front of her.

His sharp, striking features invaded her field of vision, momentarily stunning her.

She took a couple of steps back in reflex only to stumble.

The heels of her leather shoes wobbled beneath her, and she pitched backward.

But before she could hit the ground, a strong arm caught her by the waist.

Raymond had steadied her.

Heart still pounding, she let out a shaky breath and lifted her face, her bright eyes locking onto his.

“Mr. Ainsworth, thank you! You’ve already helped me twice today.”

Raymond said nothing.

Instead, he cupped her face, pulling it closer.

His thumb traced lightly along the edge of her eye, watching as her lashes trembled, as unshed tears pooled at the corners.

A single drop spilled over, sliding down his thumb and trailing along the back of his hand, leaving a damp, glistening streak in its wake.

“Angelique, did you forget?” His voice was low, teasing. “You’re my slave. You should be calling me ‘Master.’”

“Huh? You know my name?”

Raymond gave her a look as if she were the biggest fool alive.

“Did you forget my name?” His voice was light and playful. His hands, however, had already found their way behind her ear, toying with her soft, round earlobe, rolling it gently between his fingers.