A man stood at what seemed to be a rundown apartment.No one could have guessed it had ever been a home.Right now, it was obviously ruins mixed with ashes.The man, Alastor Vikir, just stared at the wreckage, as though hoping some sort of magic would bring back everything that was lost in the fire ten years ago.Life hadn’t been perfect, but with his parents and sister, it had been enough. Until the day he left for his first training. He had returned to find his home burning, fire fighters dousing the house with water sprays, battling to put out the fire. Without thinking, Alastor did the only thing his heart screamed for—he ran into the burning house, calling for his parents and sister. But it was to no avail, every room he ran into, he couldn't find anything aside from burning accessories. He went straight to the kitchen but then a large hunk of burning wood fell on him. The next thing he saw was a fire fighter handing him a cup of hot chocolate. He’d lost consciousness the m

Alastor picked up the card from the bin she’d thrown it into. He didn’t expect that. For a moment he just stood there, staring at the card. He’d thought leaving her a way to reach him was the right thing to do. Apparently, it hadn’t mattered.He slipped the card into his pocket and walked out of the hotel. The afternoon air was hot and loud. He flagged a taxi and climbed in.“Where to?” the driver asked.“Tempest Enterprise,” Alastor said.The driver kept glancing at Alastor through the rearview mirror, sizing him up again and again. Wrinkled T-shirt. Cheap hoodie. No luggage. No watch. No jewelry.This guy was definitely not someone who worked anywhere near the financial district.“That big company downtown?” the driver repeated, eyebrows lifting. “Tempest Enterprise? You sure you’re heading to the right place?”“Yes,” Alastor said calmly.The driver gave a short laugh. “You got a meeting there or something?”“No.” Alastor’s tone was steady, almost bored. “I’m just going to take a lo

No one could have expected this: one of the most feared men in New York City, bowing and apologizing for a mistake he hadn’t even made.The lobby was silent and completely still. People who had been filming lowered their phones slowly, as if afraid even the sound of a notification might offend the wrong person.Arthur straightened, his expression cold. His voice carried through the room.“Who disrespected him?” he said, each word sharp. “Step forward.”Not a sound followed. Not a shuffle, not a breath. Everyone knew what that question meant. Whoever stepped out would not have a good ending — and whoever didn’t would probably have a worse one.The security guards glanced at one another, pale and sweating. Some looked like they wanted to run. Others looked like they might faint.Then, unexpectedly, someone moved.The receptionist.She stepped out from behind her desk, hands trembling slightly but her posture steady. Her gaze went straight to Alastor.“I… I was the one who didn’t make th

Arthur skimmed through the files on his screen, tapping his fingers lightly against his chin.“Well… should it really matter right now?”Alastor raised a brow. “What do you mean?”Arthur leaned back in his chair. “I mean the Belmond girl. Whatever connection there is, we can deal with it later. Right now, we need to get you into the university.”Alastor was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded. “Fine.”Arthur turned the screen slightly so Alastor could see.“Chloe Everstone,” he said. “Blackwood University. Second year.”Alastor’s eyes stayed on the name.“She’s on scholarship,” Arthur added. “Same situation as before. No safety net. If she loses it, she’s out.”“I see” Alastor said.Arthur glanced at him. “That’s why you want to be close.”“Yes.”Arthur exhaled. “Then you can’t go in as yourself.”“I’m aware.”“We’ll register you as a transfer student,” Arthur continued. “You’ll go in with a different name.”Alastor didn’t answer immediately.“Leo,” he said.Arthur looked up. “Just Leo

A week had passed since Alastor enrolled at Blackwood University.Now, as Leo Vance, he walked through the main gates on his official first day.The campus was exactly what he'd expected. Old brick buildings, perfectly maintained lawns, students in designer clothes lounging on benches like they owned the place.Because most of them did, in a way.His white hair drew stares immediately. Whispers followed him as he passed groups clustered near the entrance."Who's that?""Transfer student, I think.""Weird hair."Alastor—Leo—ignored them.He'd spent ten years training to read environments, to assess threats, to understand power structures at a glance.Blackwood's hierarchy was painfully obvious.The rich kids gathered in the center of the courtyard. Designer bags, expensive watches, voices loud and confident. They looked at everyone else like furniture.The scholarship students stayed at the edges. Quieter. Heads down. They moved through campus like they were trying not to be noticed.T