At first, Miles Young genuinely thought they were just cooling off in the shade.

Then, a second thought struck him—it was the peak of summer. If they really wanted to cool off, wouldn't it be more comfortable back in the dorms with the AC blasting? Why waste time standing around out here?

As he drew closer, he realized they were feeding a stray cat.

The girl wore a simple white sundress, her long hair cascading down to her slender waist. Just the sight of her back was enough to make the world feel quiet and peaceful. Her delicate fingertips pinched a generous piece of freeze-dried chicken. The cat had one paw propped against her arm, its fluffy head tilted, eyes squinting in contentment as it crunched away.

The man beside her was holding a piece of meat for the cat as well, but his eyes weren't on the animal. They were locked onto the girl beside him, filled with such intense, undisguised devotion that he might as well have had "I love you" tattooed on his forehead.

Miles recognized the man instantly.

Maxwell King. The only son of the King family and the sole heir to King Enterprises. In the high-society circles of London, he was the apex predator. Unlike the rest of them, who were just playing around with petty games, the King family possessed deep roots, a sterling reputation, and a line of brilliant minds that had conquered every industry. They were the kind of people you didn't just avoid—you feared.

But as the saying goes, you can't save someone hell-bent on their own destruction. Driven by raw, unadulterated curiosity, Miles snuck another look at the girl.

Immediately, he received a warning glare.

Maxwell raised his eyes, fixing Miles with a cold, detached look. A faint smile curled his lips, but it never reached his eyes; his gaze was sharp as an ice pick. Miles felt a chill crawl up his spine. He offered a quick, sheepish bow of apology, kept his head down, and beat a hasty retreat from the danger zone.

Once back at the dorm, Miles didn't leave right away. He sat down and chatted with Cameron Hughes for a bit. When the conversation drifted toward women, Miles sighed, "You know, I just saw this girl downstairs. Her face, her figure—she was absolutely stunning."

"I didn't even know there were girls that pretty at our university. How have I never seen her before?"

"I'm kicking myself. I should've hung out on campus more. Maybe I could've landed a meet-cute."

Cameron sneered, "You’re pathetic."

He pulled out his phone, scrolled to a photo in his gallery, and shoved it under Miles's nose. "Here. My girlfriend. Is she pretty or what?"

In the photo, the girl was wearing the exact same white sundress, standing in the sunlight. Her skin was pale and soft, and she wore a bright, captivating smile, with two tiny dimples flickering in and out of existence. She looked even more vivid and beautiful than she had moments ago.

Miles felt his jaw drop.

Seeing the man practically drooling, Cameron snatched the phone back, killed the screen, and tossed it onto the bed. "Can you not be such a loser?"

"No, seriously," Miles swallowed hard. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask."

"Does she... know Maxwell King?"

"Yeah, they know each other. Why?"

Miles watched the nonchalant expression on his friend's face and understood. "You met through him?"

"Yeah," Cameron growled, clearly annoyed by the beating-around-the-bush. "Just say what you have to say."

Miles glanced at him, choosing his words carefully. "I just saw them together. Right now."

"Doing what?"

"Feeding a stray cat," Miles said, afraid he wouldn't be believed. "On the sycamore path. I saw it with my own eyes. If you go right now, you can catch them."

Cameron laughed, finding it ridiculous. "And why would I go 'catch' them?"

Miles stared at him. "Use your head."

Cameron let out a scoff, leaning back lazily on the bed with his hands behind his head. He glanced at Miles from the corner of his eye. "Do you really think someone like Maxwell would look at a girl like her?"

"Her parents divorced when she was a kid. She was raised by her grandmother. During her sophomore and junior years, when her course load was heaviest, she still had to work part-time jobs just to get by."

He repeated it as if it were a verdict. "With a background like that, you really think Maxwell would be interested?"

The words sounded logical enough on the surface. But they didn't hold up under scrutiny.

Miles retorted, "Didn't you look at her? You even locked her down as your girlfriend."

Cameron smiled dismissively. "I’m just having some fun. Don't you think she’s pretty, too?"

"I’m not actually going to marry her. In families like ours, including Maxwell's, do we even get a say in who we marry?"

Miles frowned. "Dating without the intent to marry is just being a dirtbag."

Cameron kicked at him. "You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that."

"Hand over those car keys and quit trying to pick up girls."

"My bad, my bad," Miles laughed, trying to make amends. "Go on, you were saying?"

"I’m enjoying my freedom while I can, looking for a few girls to play with. But Maxwell? He’s not wired like that."

Cameron continued, "You don't know him. He’s incredibly old-fashioned. Stiff and boring. Which is why he’ll only ever fall for one person."

"Who?"

"His future wife."

Miles looked at the conviction in Cameron's eyes and swallowed his tongue, deciding to say no more.

***

Now, watching the two of them drawing closer to each other in the distance, Miles just wanted to go back in time and tell Cameron how dead wrong he had been.

After all these years, the mindset had shifted entirely. Miles didn't say a word. He silently pulled his gaze away, sipped his iced coffee, and listened to Alexis and Noah chatter about this and that, acting as if the couple didn't exist. The cold liquid pooled in his stomach.

Across the way, Maxwell had spotted Miles as well. If Miles was here, it meant Cameron was definitely nearby.

Maxwell turned his gaze toward Arianna Stone.

He had no idea what was going through her mind or how she felt about Cameron. Had she truly moved on? Or would she be moved if Cameron showed up and played the victim?

It was that very uncertainty that fueled his fear—his panic. He couldn't even stand to imagine such a scene.

He began to regret his choice. Why did he have to bring her to this specific dessert shop? If he had just driven twenty more minutes, there was another branch exactly like it.

He remained glued to Arianna's every move. When he saw her pick up a small cake and place it on her tray, he blurted out a warning before he could stop himself.

"This isn't the sugar-free section. That cake is loaded with sugar."

Arianna looked at him. "I know."

If she knew, why pick it up?

Before Maxwell could voice his confusion, Arianna spoke up, "This one is for you."

"For me?"

Maxwell stood there, caught in a moment of pure disbelief.