Irene's POV
The shrill buzz of my alarm pulled me out of sleep, and I smacked the phone screen with more force than necessary. My eyes fluttered open to the pale light of a Saturday morning. For a moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling. Then it hit me.
Today.
Today I was going to Adrian Blackwood's house.
My stomach knotted instantly.
I groaned and rolled over, reaching for my phone. The screen lit up with a string of unread texts. Of course, Anna and Elsa were already awake.
Elsa: Don't faint when you see his mansion, Irene.
Anna: Better yet, take a picture of his fridge. I bet even that looks expensive.
Elsa: Or of him. Preferably shirtless.
Anna: I bet she's nervous. Irene, you awake?
Elsa: She's pretending to be asleep so she won't have to answer us, lol.
I typed back quickly, though my cheeks warmed as I did.
Me: I'm not nervous. It's just a school project. Stop exaggerating.
Anna: Suuuure. Keep telling yourself that.
Elsa: Send us a pic when you're at his "castle." We want details.
Me: It's not a castle. It's just a house. And I'm NOT sending pictures.
Anna: Fine. But if he kidnaps you, blink twice when we FaceTime.
Elsa: 😂😂😂
I couldn't help but laugh softly. They always knew how to ease my nerves, even if their teasing only half-worked. Still, as I set my phone aside and dragged myself out of bed, a nervous flutter clung stubbornly to my chest.
After a quick shower, I stood in front of my closet, towel around my shoulders, staring at the rows of clothes. My hand hovered over a light-blue blouse and jeans—the outfit I had picked last night. Simple. Safe.
But as I slipped into the clothes, fastening the buttons with trembling fingers, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back—tidy ponytail, clean face, plain clothes.
Boring.
I bit my lip and tugged at the hem of the blouse. Was it too plain? Should I wear something nicer? A dress, maybe? Or a skirt like Elsa would? Something that said I cared… but not too much.
I pulled out a floral top and held it against me, then shook my head. Too loud. A soft cardigan? Too formal. I sank onto the edge of my bed with a groan, clothes scattered across my blanket like a battlefield of indecision.
Why was I overthinking this? It was just Adrian. Just a partner. Just… different.
"Stop it," I muttered to myself, shoving the rejected clothes back into the closet. I slipped my sneakers on, keeping the blouse and jeans. Simple. Safe. Invisible. That was better.
Or at least that's what I told myself.
---
By late morning, I stood outside the Blackwood estate, clutching my backpack straps tightly. The house loomed before me like something out of a movie—tall iron gates, manicured lawns, and a mansion so wide I couldn't see its ends without turning my head.
I swallowed hard.
Before I could gather the courage to step forward, a tall man in a crisp black suit approached from the house. He looked exactly like the butlers you'd see in old films—posture perfect, face expressionless.
"Miss Walker?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Right this way, please. Master Adrian is in the garage."
Master Adrian. My brain nearly short-circuited. I nodded quickly, falling into step behind him. The pathway curved through a garden filled with roses and trimmed hedges before opening to a wide stone driveway. At the far end stood the garage, doors open, tools and equipment glinting under the light.
And there he was. Adrian.
He stood with his back to me, sleeves rolled up, wiping his hands with a rag. The butler cleared his throat softly.
"Master Adrian. Your partner has arrived."
Adrian turned. His gaze landed on me, steady and unreadable, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
"Thanks, Charles," he said dismissively. The butler bowed slightly before leaving us alone.
I shifted awkwardly, gripping my backpack. "Um… hi."
Adrian nodded once, tossing the rag onto a counter.
"You're late," he muttered.
I checked my phone. "By three minutes."
"Three minutes is still late" he replied
I bit back a retort, took a seat on the stool nearby, and pulled out my notes. If we were going to get through this day, one of us had to stay civil. And apparently, it had to be me.
---
Adrian's POV
I didn't expect her to actually show up. Most people avoided my house like the plague, intimidated by the gates, the whispers of wealth, and my father's reputation. But there she was—slipping into the garage like sunlight trying to sneak into a cave.
I wanted to tell her to leave. To say she didn't belong here. Yet, as she settled on the stool with her messy stack of papers, I found myself strangely… steadier. Like her presence dulled the weight pressing on my shoulders.
I turned back to the engine I was fixing, though my ears strained toward her soft humming. She didn't sit stiffly like other girls might. She looked at everything with curious eyes—the tools, the shelves, even the grease stains on my shirt.
"Do you ever clean this place?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
I froze, expecting mockery. But when I glanced at her, she had a small smile tugging her lips.
"Doesn't seem like it," I muttered.
She laughed. Actually laughed. And the sound—it chipped at my irritation until I caught myself almost smiling back. I clenched my jaw, forcing the expression away
It felt… unsettling.
I busied myself with the project equipment Mr. Jacobs had assigned us, trying to ignore the way her presence shifted the room. She set her things down carefully, almost too carefully, like she was afraid to break anything.
"You've done this before?" she asked.
I shook my head. "No. But it isn't complicated. Just follow instructions."
She made a face at that, pulling out her notebook. "So bossy. Ever thought about saying please?"
The word jolted me. My head snapped toward her, ready to bite back, but the look on her face stopped me. She was teasing. Actually teasing me.
I blinked once, then turned away, muttering, "Please."
Her quiet laugh followed, light and quick, echoing off the garage walls. It lingered in the air, wrapping around me in a way that made my chest feel strangely warm.
"Let's start with the basic design," he said finally, pulling out a notebook. His handwriting was neat, sharp, controlled. "If we can get the filtration layers right, the experiment should work without too much trouble."
Different.
That's what she'd called me before. The word had unsettled me, but now I wondered if it wasn't her who was different.
---
Mrs. Blackwood's POV
The tires of the black sedan crunched over gravel as it pulled into the estate. I leaned back in the leather seat, exhaling softly. It had been too long. Too many nights away, too many excuses to my son.
The driver opened my door, and I stepped out, smoothing my coat. The mansion loomed, familiar yet always imposing. Staff hurried to greet me at the steps.
"Mrs. Blackwood, welcome home," the butler—Charles—said with a bow.
"Thank you, Charles. Where is Adrian?"
"In the garage, madam. With… a guest."
A guest? My brows lifted. Interesting. Without another word, I made my way toward the garage, heels clicking lightly on the stone.
Inside, I found them. Adrian, bent over the worktable, and a girl—petite, bright-eyed, wearing jeans and a blouse that seemed chosen for safety rather than flair. She looked up as I entered, startled, then stood quickly.
"Mom," Adrian said, surprise flickering across his usually cold expression.
"I didn't expect you back so soon," he added.
I smiled, letting my gaze fall on the girl. She looked nervous but didn't cower. That caught my attention.
"You must be... ?" I said warmly, extending my hand.
"Irene ma'am," she replied, slipping her hand into mine. Her grip was firm, her eyes steady. Interesting.
"I'm Adrian's mother. It's a pleasure to meet you."
For a moment, our hands lingered in the shake, and I studied her. There was something there—something I couldn't quite place.
But I softened my smile, letting her go. "I'll leave you both to your work. Dinner will be ready later, Adrian."
As I walked away, I felt Irene's curious eyes on my back. And I couldn't help but wonder if she sensed, even faintly, that there was far more hidden within these walls than she realized