The wheels of the private jet touched down on Viennese soil with a whisper. Leo Ashford sat in silence, one hand resting casually on the armrest, the other flipping through unread emails on his phone. His suit—charcoal grey, tailored to perfection—hugged his frame like second skin. Outside, the city of Vienna stretched out in old-world elegance and modern ambition. Just like the boy returning to it.
He hadn't set foot in Austria in almost eight years.
The chauffeur waited at the foot of the stairs. The car was sleek and black, the kind you drove when you wanted to be noticed and respected—but not spoken to. Just the way Leo liked it.
As the car pulled away from the airport, Leo leaned back against the leather seat and stared at the passing architecture. Vienna was beautiful, no doubt, but in a cold and deliberate kind of way—like a marble statue. A city that expected perfection and gave nothing for free. It was fitting. This was where his father built their empire.
Leo Ashford: heir to Ashford Holdings, a multinational real estate and hospitality conglomerate. A boy groomed in silence, excellence, and expectations.
He hadn't come back by choice. His father had summoned him.
"It's time," his father had said over a call. "Ashbourne Academy will sharpen your name here. You'll take the reins soon. No more time in America playing at freedom."
He didn't argue. Not because he agreed—but because arguing had never changed anything.
---
Ashbourne Academy was nestled on the outskirts of the city, cloaked in ivy and prestige. It was the kind of school where ministers' sons sat beside heirs of pharmaceutical empires. Where last names were currency.
Leo arrived precisely ten minutes before classes began.
Silence swept through the front courtyard as the black car door opened. Eyes turned. Whispers followed.
"Who is that?"
"Is he new?"
"That's Ashford—wait, the Ashford? Didn't he grow up in the U.S.?"
"He's the heir."
Leo didn't notice—or didn't care. His steps were slow, measured, and confident. Inside, he collected his schedule, ignoring the receptionist's gushing attempts at small talk.
First class: Economics.
He entered just before the bell rang. Twenty-five heads turned. Girls straightened their posture. Boys evaluated silently.
"Mr. Ashford," the teacher said, adjusting his glasses. "Welcome."
Leo nodded once, not bothering to correct the pronunciation of his name.
There was one empty seat—back of the room, beside the window. As he approached it, his eyes briefly swept the room and—
There she was.
Seated beside the empty chair was a girl with chestnut-brown hair pulled into a soft braid. She wore the standard Ashbourne uniform, but something about her didn't blend in with the rest. She wasn't interested in him like the others. In fact, she didn't even look up.
Intriguing.
He took the seat beside her.
Minutes passed. The teacher droned on. Leo pretended to take notes.
Then finally, her eyes lifted. She glanced at him, just for a second.
Their eyes met.
And for a moment, the world slowed down.
He smirked slightly.
She blinked—and looked away.
Leo turned back to the board, but he was no longer listening.
He didn't know her name.
But something told him... he'd want to.