Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Bea had long since abandoned her textbook, now lying flat on the couch with one leg off the side and her arm draped over her face.
“Remind me again why I thought St. Ives was a good idea?”
She didn’t bother hiding the dramatic edge in her voice. She was tired—of lectures, of the workload, of the looks from classmates who marked her as other.
To be fair, not all those stares were unkind.
The men weren’t unhappy. Bea, young and unclaimed, was apparently worth noticing, and they did so with different degrees of finesse.
The women were harder to read. Some were indifferent, others wary.
The scholarship girls weren’t their rivals, exactly.
In theory, there were more than enough admirers for everyone.
But theory warped fast when a girl like Bea drew attention they weren’t ready to share.
Georgina snorted from the kitchen counter, wineglass in hand. “Because you’re smart, stubborn, and have a thing for suffering.”
Bea groaned.
“You’re doing fine,” Georgina soothed. “Better than fine, actually. Rumor has it you had Gage rapt while I was outside. Impressive. He usually only pays that much attention to mergers and acquisitions.”
“We just talked a bit,” Bea said, hoping she sounded casual. “Is he always that…put-together?”
“Always,” Georgina confirmed. “Quiet, calculated. Used to being obeyed.”
“Has he…dated?” Bea asked.
Georgina barely kept a straight face. “Of course. The only monk on this entire campus is you.”
Bea gave a quiet laugh. “Good to know.”
“He doesn’t make a mess. No drama, no noise. He doesn’t get caught unless he wants to be.”
Bea doubted Gage ever got caught. More likely he caught you.
“He and Catherine seemed friendly,” Bea said, simply.
Georgina snorted. “That would be the alliance of the century.” She swirled her wine lazily. “Their families are close. Their parents wouldn’t mind.”
“She wouldn’t, either.”
Georgina shrugged. “There are only so many men in that league. Gage, Rafael…two, three dozen, maybe. And only so many women who make perfect sense for them. Catherine’s one of those women who checks every box. Legacy, looks, power. If this were just about logic, she’d already have the ring.”
Bea couldn’t tell if the feeling in her chest was relief or something closer to disappointment.
“But that’s the thing about Gage. You can’t corner him.” Georgina added a caveat, “Maybe, if King Global were on the table.”
Bea absorbed that.
Georgina turned her glass slowly, watching the wine swirl.
“You’d expect, in a place full of empires, that marriage would be about strategy.
Merging dynasties. It used to be.” She glanced over at Bea.
“But the guys around us aren’t particularly interested in anyone telling them who they’re supposed to marry. ”
Bea couldn’t picture anyone arranging a marriage for Gage King or Rafael Griffin. They’d choose war first.
“That’s why Rafael’s dangerous,” Georgina continued, eyes glinting. “He won’t compromise. He’ll just take the girl he wants.”
“And Gage?” Bea wondered.
“Gage won’t act until he already knows how it ends.” Georgina’s voice dropped, almost a warning. “God help the woman he chooses.”
Georgina’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, then typed something quickly.
She shot Bea a playful look. “We can psychoanalyze them later. Tonight’s plans just got a lot more interesting.” She knocked back the last of her wine and hopped off the kitchen counter.
“Wait, what? Now?”
“Right now,” Georgina said. “There’s a party downtown. Good music, great drinks. Exactly the kind of distraction you deserve.”
Her heart said hell yes. Her brain handed it a helmet and a syllabus.
Music. Dancing. She loved that. Unfortunately, she also loved keeping her GPA intact. “But I have an early class tomorrow.”
Georgina rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to go to St. Ives, you need to go to St. Ives,” she said meaningfully. “Dragging yourself into class after a big night is practically a rite of passage.”
Bea was half exasperation, half capitulation. “Fine. But if the music sucks, you’re buying me coffee for a week.”
“Deal.” Georgie grabbed her hand, pulling her up from the couch, and Bea acquiesced. “Now let’s make sure you walk in looking like the beginning of someone’s downfall.”
The club was unapologetically exclusive. The kind of place where security didn’t check names, because they knew them. Faces, pedigrees, positions. Billionaire heirs moved with the quiet conviction of people accustomed to shaping the world with a signature.
“I need a quick touch-up. Wanna come with?” Georgina asked.
“I’m fine,” Bea replied. “I’ll grab us drinks. Meet you at the bar.”
Georgie nodded and headed to the bathroom, vanishing into the blur of tailored suits and designer dresses. For a moment, Bea faltered in the middle of it all. Then she straightened her shoulders and started toward the bar.
And that’s when she saw him.
Rafael.
He stood at the far end, all casual menace and subtle aggression. One hand in his pocket, the other resting on the shoulder of a younger male student. He wasn’t gripping him. Didn’t have to. His presence was enough to keep the other man pinned in place.
Bea recognized him from a shared lecture. The type who normally wielded confidence as naturally as breath. But now that arrogance had drained from his face, leaving behind something rigid and pale.
She couldn’t hear Rafael’s words, but she saw the way the younger man’s posture locked tight under whatever warning had just been delivered. A collective awareness settled over the nearby patrons, but it was curiosity held discreetly, at a distance. A conscious decision to stay uninvolved.
Rafael let him go, brushing an invisible speck of dust from the other man’s shoulder. Light, dismissive. The student mumbled something before vanishing into the crowd.
Bea’s stomach turned.
What even was that? Not bullying. Not theatrics. A lesson. Evidence that Rafael didn’t need noise to command obedience. Or fear.
She was the only one staring.
His attention cut through the room as though he felt it.
Found her.
Great.
Because what this moment definitely needed was eye contact.
She straightened like posture might save her.
He tilted his head, as if contemplating her reaction.
Almost defiantly, she stayed in place. If she looked away now, he’d see it as weakness.
And then, to her alarm, he moved toward her.
It happened as if in slow motion. She counted silently, got to eight. His presence arrived first. Warm, sharp, curling around her like the heat before a match ignites.
“Enjoy the performance?” His voice was deep, laced with the slightest bit of challenge.
Bea swallowed. This was fine. She loved being caught gawking by the god of chaos.
“I—” She cleared her throat. “Is that how you usually handle your problems?” She regretted it the second she said it.
“Only when I don’t feel like being patient.”
Bea wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious.
The only thing she could think to say was, “Patience isn’t really your thing?”
“That depends. Some people are worth it.”
She licked her lips, forcing lightness into her voice. “And him? He wasn’t?”
His gaze lowered briefly to where her tongue had just touched before dragging back up. “Curious girl.”
She shouldn’t be. She should excuse herself. Go find Georgina.
Bea shrugged, but it wasn’t as smooth as she’d hoped. “Sometimes to my detriment.”
He studied her longer than necessary.
“If I asked,” she murmured, because apparently she had lost her mind completely, “would you tell me what he did?”
A flash of teeth.
“Maybe.” His eyes dragged over her. “But I think you’re more interested in what I’d do to you if you made me.”
She had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. Which was probably for the best. Anything she said would’ve come out in the wrong language anyway—gibberish, panic, or something legally admissible.
For a moment, she’d been playing with a viper.
Fun. Until it bit you.
“Everything alright here?” She recognized that voice of quiet authority now. Bea whirled.
Gage.
The difference was apparent immediately. Where Rafael ignited, Gage contained.
Rafael didn’t move, but his stance changed. Marginally. His fingers twitched as if stifling the urge to ball them into fists.
“King,” he drawled. “You’re making a habit out of interrupting.”
Gage’s focus went to Bea, his expression unreadable, before settling back on Rafael. “Looks like you’ve said enough.”
Rafael’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the rest of his face was calm. “If Bea doesn’t want me here, she can say so herself.”
Bea felt the burden of both their stares.
Her eyes roved over to Gage. She didn’t reach for him. But she tilted in his direction. Just enough. Some instinct told her this particular billionaire was the safer one.
“I owe Georgie a drink,” she said, trying to be neutral.
Gage didn’t react outwardly, but his posture eased, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.
Rafael read between the lines with absolute clarity. One corner of his mouth kicked up. “I’ll see you around, little Bea.”
She tracked him as he disappeared into the crowd. Then she turned back to Gage, only to realize he hadn’t looked away. Not once.
And she knew.
Safer didn’t mean safe. Not with him. Not here.