Chapter 3

This was not a choice. It was a death sentence.

I had no doubt that if I said no, I would not only lose the opportunity to study abroad, but I might not even live to see tomorrow.

It's his house, his rules. I had to play along.

I lowered my eyes and answered in a barely audible voice, "Okay."

Satisfied with my compliance, Edward got up and walked into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water filled the room.

I seized the chance to climb off the bed and hurriedly straightened my torn dress, desperate to slip away while he was still showering.

I had just reached the door when the bathroom door clicked open.

Edward stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets traced down his firm abdomen and disappeared along the lines of his hips.

What a menace. A walking temptation.

I quickly looked away and pointed toward the door, trying to sound casual. "Mr. Foster, I'll head to school first."

"I'll take you," he said, already moving toward the walk-in closet.

"No need, really. I can go by myself."

As if I would let him drive me to school. By tomorrow, the whole campus would be talking about how I schemed my way into Edward's bed.

He ignored me. When he came out again, he was already dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, transformed from a dangerously alluring man into the cold, restrained heir of a powerful empire.

"Let's go." He picked up his car keys, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I was practically forced into the back seat of his limited-edition Maybach.

The car was spacious, yet with him sitting beside me, it felt unbearably cramped. I shrank into the corner, trying to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

Just then, my phone rang again.

I glanced at the screen, and the name "Lucas Grant" flashing there made my scalp tingle.

Lucas was a rich second-generation heir, the biggest catch in the original Sophia's "pool." She kept him on the hook while using him as a stepping stone to get close to Edward.

I'm done for. If Edward sees this, I'm finished.

Panicking, I fumbled and hit decline.

"Who was that?" Edward's cool voice sounded beside me.

"No one. Just a spam call." I tried to hide my phone behind me.

He let out a soft laugh and did not press further, but the temperature inside the car seemed to drop to freezing.

I had just begun to relax when my phone rang again, persistent and insistent.

Before I could react, a well-defined hand reached over and took the phone from me in one swift motion.

"I'll handle it," Edward said, his tone unreadable.

Right in front of me, he answered the call and switched it to speaker.

"Sophia! Where did you go last night? Why didn't you reply to any of my messages? I was so worried about you." Lucas' voice came through, anxious with a hint of hurt.

I wanted to jump out of the car on the spot.

A cold curve formed at Edward's lips. He brought the phone to his mouth and spoke in a lazy, possessive tone.

"She's catching up on sleep. She was worn out last night."

There was a full ten seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

"Who are you?"

Edward did not answer. He simply hung up and tossed the phone back to me as if it were trash.

The silence inside the car was suffocating.

Clutching my phone, I curled in on myself, wishing I could disappear.

This was it. The storm had arrived.

"Quite an impressive 'pool' you've got there," Edward said, his tone unreadable, though each word felt like an ice pick. "Looks like I've interrupted your careful time management, Ms. Nolan."

"No, no, that's not it." I shook my head frantically. "I'm not close with him at all. Really. We're just classmates."

"Oh?" He turned to look at me, his gaze heavy. "Do classmates address you that intimately? And worry when you don't reply all night?"

I had no answer. All I could do was scramble to explain. "That's just him reading too much into things. I've never encouraged him in any way. Mr. Foster, you're the only one I care about."

To stay alive, I had no choice but to force myself into the original Sophia's sweet and calculating persona.

Even I felt a chill after saying it.

Edward studied me for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled.

"Is that so?" He reached out and took hold of my chin, making me meet his eyes. "Then prove it."

The car slowed to a stop at the university entrance.

It was peak class time, with people coming and going.

Before I could figure out what he meant by "prove it," he had already pushed the door open and stepped out.

That flawless face, paired with his unmistakable air of privilege, drew everyone's attention instantly.

"Oh my god, isn't that Edward?"

"Why is he at our school?"

"Who's the woman with him?"

Amid the murmurs, Edward walked around to my side and opened the door for me himself. The gesture was gentlemanly, but his gaze carried a command I could not refuse.

I got out of the car, bracing myself as if I were being put on public display.

Social death. This was exactly what social death felt like.

Keeping my head down, I just wanted to slip into the school as quickly as possible.

But Edward caught my arm. In full view of everyone, he reached out with his long fingers and casually adjusted my slightly rumpled collar.

The gesture was intimate, the posture suggestive.

"Your collar's crooked," he said softly, his warm breath brushing against my cheek.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

I froze completely.

Was he marking his territory?

"I'll pick you up tonight," he said, straightening up and returning to his usual cold, restrained demeanor, as if that intimate moment had never happened.

With that, he turned and got back into the car.

The black Maybach sped off, leaving me behind with a crowd full of stunned faces.

I stood there, absorbing the looks coming from every direction: curiosity, jealousy, and disdain, and for the first time, I truly understood what it meant to be stuck with no way out.

Edward was a devil.

He was not just trying to control me; he was cutting off every possible escape.