TWENTY-FIVE
Milan
PRESENT
Did you forget what she did?
Elena’s words have been haunting me like a mantra since the party.
Aliya Sierra doesn’t deserve a single thought from me. But every time I try to banish her from my mind, her face appears before my inner eye – those green eyes that pierce through me and destroy me at the same time.
And Elena is right.
What Aliya Sierra took from me is irreplaceable.
I haven’t forgotten, and I won’t forget.
I can already hear Shin’s and Damian’s voices before I even enter the clubroom. For a moment, I pause in front of the door, take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. Their conversation stops instantly as I open the door, and both of their gazes fall on me.
“Everything okay?” Shin asks as I sit down and light a cigarette.
I let my head fall back and stare at the ceiling, exhaling the smoke slowly. The curl of smoke swirls above me and finally fades away.
Nothing is okay.
I’m fucking pissed off.
What was she trying to tell me? She has never spoken to me in the school hallway in front of other students before.
Damian watches me with a familiar gleam in his eyes. “Someone doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.”
I balance the cigarette between my fingers and ignore his comment. After Damian pushed Aliya into the pool and she left the water with a see-through T-shirt, many onlookers took photos of her. I spent a lot of time tracking down and threatening every one of these jerks. In the end, I made sure no more pictures of her would spread around.
The photo of her that’s circulating online still fills me with a murderous rage. Even though I ensured that the account that posted it was banned, I won’t be satisfied until I find out which bastard took the picture of us.
“What’s wrong? Are you still mad at me for pushing Servant into the water?” Damian laughs, showing no hint of remorse. “Come on, Shane. It was just a joke. Since when do you care about stuff like that anyway?”
“I didn’t think it was funny.”
“You just don’t have a sense of humor, Shinichiro.”
I roll my eyes, take one last drag of my cigarette and feel the familiar heat in my lungs before I stub it out. “I don’t give a shit, Damian. Like I told you before, do whatever you have to.”
His grin widens while Shin furrows his eyebrows.
School is weighing on me especially hard today.
The room feels stuffy, and everything is getting on my nerves. It was a mistake to come here today. Instead, I could release the tension inside me by doing my laps in Belle Isle.
“I’m outta here. Cover for me with Mr. Anderson. He’s already breathing down my neck.” With a sigh, I get up from the couch to leave the room.
“Where are you going?” asks Shin.
“Belle Isle.”
Without looking back, I leave the room. Riding my motorcycle is the only thing that offers me a hint of comfort now, allowing me to clear my thoughts and shake off the tension.
I’m making my way out when I see Mr. Anderson coming toward me. Fortunately, his eyes are focused on the document in his hand, so he doesn’t notice me.
The last thing I need right now is him lecturing me about how many times I’ve skipped his class and how it’s inappropriate for someone from the Shane family. Then, he’ll compare me to my brother once again, just like everyone else in my life, and emphasize how much better Kilian was at my age.
I quicken my steps and hurry down the stairs to leave the school through the secluded corridor without being noticed. Not many students come here during lunch break, which usually allows me to escape. Just as I’m heading toward the exit to slip away unnoticed, a faint sound interrupts my plan.
With my hand on the door handle, I stop.
My first impulse is to just leave, but something inside me forces me to face the source of the noise. Slowly, I let my hand slide off the handle and instead look around the corner.
There, she is sitting on the stairs that lead to the sophomore corridor.
Her dark brown braid falls over her shoulders. The sight of her trembling hands covering her face makes me pause for a moment.
She … is crying.
Aliya Sierra is crying .
The soft sobbing that escapes her throat is the only sound in the silence.
My chest tightens instantly, and an inexplicable knot forms inside me.
I wanted to see her at rock bottom, to destroy her, to make her cry, but seeing her like this now makes me angry.
A disturbing feeling washes over me.
Why the fuck do I care how she feels?
Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been trying to break her for some time, but she’s never shown me any sign of it. And now she’s here, curled up alone in the corner, her face buried in her hands, while the tears flow uncontrollably.
The irony of this situation runs through my thoughts. Seeing her cry should satisfy me, but then I realize that I’m not the reason for her tears.
And I don’t like that thought at all.
I feel a burning desire to be the only one who makes her cry, the only one who has the power to destroy her. The idea that someone else has harmed her in any way fills me with inexplicable rage.
I feel the darkness within me growing and taking over.
Whoever is responsible for her tears is dead.
As if sensing my presence, her head shoots up. Her green eyes, veiled with tears, meet mine.
A moment of silence passes, a moment as heavy as lead, in which all the unspoken words hang between us.
She immediately turns away from me and wipes her tears, as if she doesn’t want to show me her breakdown.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I slowly move toward her.
She doesn’t answer me, let alone look at me. Instead, she remains motionless, as if she despises my very presence.
My jaw tightens. “I asked you a question.”
She remains silent, her silence a provocation that fuels me further.
As if trying to escape, she stands up and attempts to walk past me. My hand shoots out and grabs her arm, firm and unyielding. She flinches, startled by my sudden reaction, but I don’t let go. I push her down again and force her to sit down.
With a sigh, I kneel in front of her to be at eye level. A bitter taste settles on my tongue as I see how red and swollen her eyes are from crying.
And I fucking hate it. I hate that she’s been crying.
Slowly, I loosen my grip and take my hand off her arm.
“Why were you crying?” I ask quietly.
A feeling of unease weighs on my chest. Is that concern? Am I fucking worried about her?
She turns away from me again. And yet, I want to look into her eyes, because right now, they’re the only part of her that seems to speak the truth.
“I want to be alone .”
Upset that she won’t give me a decent answer, I grind my teeth without taking my eyes off her.
The school bell blares through the speakers, announcing the end of lunch break. “Did you do the math homework?” I hear the first voices approaching us.
She curls up in her corner to remain unnoticed and hides her tear-stained face. Although she doesn’t want anyone to see her like this, she makes no effort to leave. Does she think I’ll stop her again?
Resigned, I stand up again and take a few steps away from her. With my elbow, I break the glass of the fire alarm mounted on the wall and press the red button.
The barking siren cuts through the air as the students who were coming in our direction hurriedly turn back to leave the school building. Panic and chaos spread as the crowds move through the corridors to reach the exit, leaving Aliya undetected.
I stand in front of her again and look down at her. Her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly open, as if she can’t believe I just set off the fire alarm.
The frantic sounds of the jostling students gradually fade, while the siren is the only thing that cuts through the silence between us.
“You wanted to be alone,” I say firmly. “ We are alone.”