Chapter 3

Preston was a student at Criamore University too—two years ahead of me. But he hardly ever came to campus, which explained why I'd never run into him before.

Still, if he never showed up, how was I supposed to get close to him?

Just when I was out of ideas, he showed up—out of nowhere—on campus.

His luxury car was parked right outside the administration building. He was probably there to meet a professor or handle something official.

As soon as I caught wind of it, I rushed over and waited beside his car.

I stood there for a long time. Eventually, he came out, finished with whatever he'd been doing. When he spotted me, he froze for a moment—clearly surprised.

I didn't hesitate. I walked right up to him, not caring that students were passing by and staring.

"Preston, can I pursue you?

"Didn't your friend say I'm special? So… would you want to date someone special like me?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, my hands started shaking. I was incredibly nervous.

But Preston just smiled—calm, a little amused, and effortlessly charming. "Girl," he said, "I've met a lot of 'special' people."

And with that, he got into his car and drove off, a trail of dust swirling in his wake.

It didn't take long for word of my bold confession to spread across campus.

Soon enough, my roommates heard about it too.

"Wow, Alisa," one of them said with a smirk, "you always seemed so quiet and proper. Who knew you were trying to marry rich?"

"I'm not," I replied firmly.

I knew how it looked. To everyone else, confessing to someone like Preston probably seemed ridiculous—like I was delusional or just plain desperate.

But I wasn't trying to date him. I never wanted to chase after some rich heir. All I wanted was to find my sister—my only remaining family.

And Preston… he was my only lead.

He was the only person who might be able to help me find her.

So I started digging. I tried to learn everything I could about him—where he went, what places he liked, who he talked to.

Whenever I had a spare moment, I'd go to those places and wait. And it worked. I ran into him—more than once.

"You didn't say no that day," I told him once. "So why shouldn't I keep trying?"

He laughed. "You're really persistent, huh?"

Still, the answer was always no.

But strangely, after that, he started showing up on campus more often. And I kept seeing him.

Every time, I'd walk up and say the same thing—I was still going to chase him.

One day, Edwina couldn't take it anymore and pulled me aside. "Are you seriously still chasing after Preston? I'm just warning you—guys like him aren't people we can just get close to."

I didn't care. I was going to get close to Preston.

And just like that, I kept at it—for over a month.

One day, out of the blue, Preston's luxury car pulled up in front of my dorm building.

I didn't even have both shoes on properly—I just ran downstairs.

He was leaning casually against the hood of his car, hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly cool and impossibly attractive.

"You free tonight?" he asked. "I want to take you out for dinner."

I was so stunned I could barely form a sentence. In the end, I just nodded like an idiot and ran back upstairs.

My roommates had plenty to say. "Well, well," one of them sneered, "looks like you actually managed to land the prince."

"Yeah," another chimed in, "you'd think she was about to become Cinderella or something."

They were clearly mocking me, but Edwina was genuinely excited. She rushed to her closet, pulled out a cute dress, and tossed it to me.

"Hurry up, put this on! I'll do your makeup. Honestly, you're so pretty—you just never dress up."

"Let me make you stunning tonight. Trust me, Preston won't know what hit him."

Later, I slid into the passenger seat of his car, feeling the weight of everyone's curious stares as we drove off campus.

The car was quiet until Preston spoke. "You know," he said casually, "the way you usually dress is actually kind of cute."

I looked down at myself—the too-tight dress, the ridiculous heels. It was all a bit much. I felt awkward and uncomfortable.

"I probably overdid it," I admitted. "My roommate picked this out for me. She meant well."

But instead of pulling up to some high-end restaurant or private club, Preston stopped in front of a tiny restaurant.

It was a hole-in-the-wall with just two tables inside—both already taken.

The rest were set up haphazardly on the sidewalk, and nearly every seat was filled.

The air was thick with the sharp, smoky aroma of chili oil. The chef was tossing food over a roaring flame, and the spicy scent hit my nose, making me cough.

"We're eating here?" I asked, surprised.

"Not into it?" he replied, watching my reaction.

I shook my head. "No, I love places like this. Honestly, these little joints usually have the best food."

I laughed to myself—this outfit was definitely overkill for a sidewalk meal.

Preston seemed totally at home. He found us a table and ordered like he came here all the time.

Soon, the table was filled with spicy dishes. Luckily, I could handle the heat.

As I watched him dig in, scooping pasta like he hadn't eaten all day, I couldn't help but think—he's not the kind of spoiled rich kid I expected. There's something different about him.

Toward the end of the meal, he set down his fork and looked at me. His eyes were slightly watery from the spice. "You really like me that much?" he asked.

I nodded without thinking. "Yeah. I really do."

He paused for a beat. "Why?"

I smiled. "Because I like you. The real you."