Some passengers stared ahead, afraid to even glance at Ava again.
Others couldn't stop looking, their expressions filled with something close to awe.
A few swallowed hard, regret settling in too late.
And then—
The final gate appeared.
The third section.
Even before the bus stopped, people felt it.
The entrance alone carried weight—guards already standing in position, their eyes sharp, scanning without missing anything. The gate wasn't flashy, but it didn't need to be.
It decided who entered.
The bus slowed.
Stopped.
The doors opened.
Ava stood first, naturally, like everything had gone exactly as expected.
Matthew followed.
The moment they stepped down—
The truth hit everyone left behind.
Hard.
Some passengers lowered their heads immediately, faces pale.
Others clenched their jaws, regret written all over them.
They understood now.
Not just who Ava was—
But what they had done.
The ones who had spoken earlier felt their stomachs twist, words replaying in their heads like a death sentence.
Those who stayed silent let out quiet breaths
Relief at least they did act like fool though they could have stood up defended her they could have getting rewarded or have chances to get connected sigh.
Matthew stepped forward and scanned his card at the gate.
A soft beep.
The barrier opened immediately.
He walked in without pausing.
Ava followed behind, but before stepping through, she slipped a folded stack of cash from her bag into the gatekeeper's hand—casual, like it was nothing.
Her gaze lifted slightly.
"A silver Bentley bentayga mulliner ," she said, her tone light but precise. "Don't let it in. They'll say they're visiting someone—stop them."
The guard stiffened almost instantly, nodding without question.
"Yes, Miss."
Ava didn't wait.
She turned and walked in after Matthew.
Moments later—
A silver Bentley bentayga mulliner rolled up to the gate.
The guard stepped forward, hand raised.
"Stop."
The driver frowned slightly but lowered the window before stepping out.
"We're here to visit someone," he said politely.
The guard didn't even hesitate.
"No visitors allowed at the moment."
The driver paused, confused. "We were told—"
"Turn back," the guard repeated, firmer this time.
Inside the car—
Nyra frowned, her fingers tightening slightly against her lap.
The delay irritated her.
The driver returned quickly and leaned slightly toward the back seat.
"They said no visitors are allowed," he explained.
Nyra's brows drew together.
Just as she was about to respondAnother car drove up behind them Without stopping.
The gate opened.
And it passed through the visitor lane effortlessly.
Nyra's eyes followed it.
Her expression changed instantly.
The softness disappeared.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Very good… very good," she muttered under her breath, her voice losing all warmth. "Even a gatekeeper dares to look down on me now."
Her eyesfilled with hatred and madness it was scary.
The mask she wore so easily in public—
Gone.
She reached threw watch tossing it toward the front.
"Give it to them," she said flatly. "Ask if there's a resident named Matthew."
The driver didn't question her.
He was used to this.
He nodded and stepped out again.
A few minutes later
He returned.
"Yes, there is," he said carefully. "But they refused to give more information. They said he's classified as a VIP."
Nyra went stil
l.
Then slowly
—
A smile spread across her lips.
Not soft.
Not kind.
Something else.
"Driver," she said quietly.
The engine started.
The car reversed smoothly.
Nyra leaned back in her seat, her fingers tapping lightly against her armrest.
"Matthew…" she murmured.
Her eyes gleamed faintly.
"You've gained my attention."
She tilted her head slightly, thoughts moving fast now.
"I thought you were just looks and talent," she continued under her breath. "Being with you would've been enough to make others jealous."
A small pause.
"But it seems your status… is far beyond what I expected."
Her gaze lingered on the gate as they drove away.
"That neighborhood… the third section… and you're a VIP."
Her lips curved slightly.
"In a school like that—where even the rich are ranked…"
Her voice softened, but her eyes sharpened.
"You wouldn't just be anyone."
In elite circles, there was an unspoken system.
A ranking.
Not official—
But acknowledged.
Across top schools students made a ranking
Everyone knew it.
The top thirty.
If you couldn't enter that list—
You were irrelevant.
No matter how rich you seemed.
Nyra's family—
Multi-millionaires—
Still only placed her at 15
And that alone had taken years of influence and positioning.
Her fingers curled slightly.
"If you're living there…" she whispered, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought, "then you're at least top ten…"
A faint smile appeared.
"Maybe even top five."
Her eyes gleamed.
Sharp.
Calculating.
Meanwhile
Ava followed Matthew, but "walked" wasn't the right word.
She moved around him.
Light.
Restless.
Almost like she couldn't stay in one place which she couldn't.
One moment she was at his side, the next a step ahead, then behind him again—circling, bouncing lightly on her feet like she had too much energy to contain.
The soft tap of her shoes against the pavement came and went in uneven rhythm, never quite matching his steady pace.
Matthew didn't slow down.
Didn't react.
Hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, he walked forward like the world around him didn't exist.
Calm.
Detached.
Untouchable.
Cool
Ava, on the other hand—
Looked like trouble wrapped in elegance.
Her white long-sleeve shirt was slightly loose at the cuffs, tucked neatly into a red mini skirt that hugged her shape just enough to draw attention without trying.
The black jacket draped over her shoulders reached her knees, left unzipped so it moved with her, adding to the effortless, careless style she carried.
Her socks stretched just above her ankles, paired with sleek Gucci Ace Sneakers that made soft, precise sounds against the ground.
Her tie—
Was nowhere near her collar.
Instead, it was loosely wrapped around her ankle, trailing slightly as she moved.
Her red hair was pulled into a high ponytail, swaying with every step she took, catching light in brief flashes.
A white bag hung from one shoulder, barely staying in place as she moved.
At 5'5, the shoes didn't add anything to her height—
But she didn't need it.
Beside her—
Matthew.
6'1.
Effortlessly composed.
Black trousers, crisp white shirt, and a neatly arranged black-and-white tie.
A short-sleeve vest fitted over it, clean and structured.
His black bag rested on one shoulder, unmoving despite his stride.
His face to beautiful to be legal
The kind that didn't need attention to attract it.
From a distance, the scene almost looked staged.
A boy walking calmly across the pedestrian bridge, lost in his own world—
And a girl orbiting him, alive, animated, refusing to be ignored.
People noticed.
They couldn't not look away as they were both good looking.
A woman slowed her steps slightly, her eyes lingering a second too long.
Two students walking past turned their heads halfway through their conversation.
The girl was as beautiful as a goddess and that michivous behavior made her look Irresistible, as for the guy he looked unreal as if he belongs in a painting meant for the gods.
Ava was talking the entire time.
Nonstop.
"…so as a good neighbor, you should let me visit, right? It's basic human decency," she said, walking backward in front of him now, her hands moving as she spoke.
Matthew didn't respond.
Didn't even look at her.
Acting dead.
Ava stopped abruptly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Damn you, Matthew—"
She stepped in and kicked him.
Once.
Then again.
Matthew finally reacted—
Swinging his bag toward her without turning fully.
Ava dodged easily, laughing as she moved out of reach.
"Too slow," she teased, falling back into step beside him.
Matthew exhaled, lifting a hand briefly to rub his temple.
A faint crease appeared between his brows his days of peace was over.
Ava wasn't done.
She leaned closer again, voice softer now—but no less persistent.
"Just teaching. That's it. I'll come to your house… or you come to mine. See? Fair deal."
Matthew stayed silent for a few more steps.
Then
"…Only for studying," he said finally.
Ava paused.
Then her smile spread instantly.
"Deal."
"Matthew, I'm starving… should I cook for you?"
Ava tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him, her eyes carrying a dangerous kind of confidence.
Matthew didn't answer immediately.
He just raised an eyebrow no need for words.
Slowly.
Ava's lips twitched.
This idiot is mocking me, she thought.
"I'm deeply offended," she said, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. "You're suspicious of my cooking because of one tiny mistake this afternoon. Do you know how much that hurts my heart?"
"Truth hurts," Matthew replied lazily, not even sparing her a glance. "That's life."
Ava clicked her tongue, then suddenly grabbed his hand.
"Come on."
Before he could react, she dragged him toward the supermarket area.
The automatic doors slid open.
Cool air brushed against them instantly, carrying the faint mix of fresh produce, packaged goods, and something sweet from the bakery section nearby.
The place was busy
Not chaotic, but full.
Carts rolled smoothly across polished floors.
A woman compared two brands of cereal with a slight frown and just put the two in her cart. A child tugged at his mother's sleeve, pointing at a shelf full of colorful snacks as he picked and put in the cart.
Employees moved in neat uniforms, restocking shelves with practiced ease.
Ava marched straight in like she owned the place.
"Help me shop," she said, grabbing a cart with one hand and pushing it forward. "If I practice more, I don't see why I can't cook."
Matthew followed, quiet at first.
Watching.
Five minutes later—
His eye twitched.
Then again.
He wonder how is eyes haven't falling out
He stopped walking.
"What," he said slowly, pointing at the cart, "are you planning to do with those?"
Ava blinked at him, confused.
"Cook?" she said like it was obvious.
She gestured at the cart proudly.
"These are spices. These are vegetables. These are protein."
Then she tilted her head slightly, genuinely puzzled.
"…Did I make a mistake?"
Matthew closed his eyes briefly.
Then opened them and looked at her directly.
"Were you raised on another planet?" he asked flatly. "What kind of spices are these? You don't even know the brands."
He reached into the cart, picking up one of the items and holding it up.
"No salt. No pepper. These are soup spices—specific ones, not for random cooking."
He dropped it back in.
"And the vegetables—" he glanced at the cart again, disbelief clear in his eyes, "you picked cucumbers, tomatoes, and onions. That's it."
Ava crossed her arms.
"So?"
Matthew exhaled slowly.
"And somehow," he continued, voice still calm but thinner now, "you managed to perfectly pick snacks."
Ava lifted her chin slightly.
"Are you a chef?" she shot back. "I must have a reason for what I picked. This is my vision, so shh."
She turned away and continued grabbing items off the shelf confidently.
Matthew watched her for two seconds.
Then reached over—
And put everything back.
One by one.
Ava turned.
Put something else in.
He removed it.
Again.
And again.
They repeated the cycle in silence—
Until—
Matthew snapped.
Without warning, he grabbed the back of her collar and lifted her slightly off the ground, moving her away from the cart like she weighed nothing.
Ava blinked in shock as her feet left the floor.
"Hey—!"
He set her aside without a word and walked back to the cart.
Then began returning everything she picked—
Precisely.
Like correcting a disaster.
Ava straightened her jacket, glaring at his back.
"You're abusing your strength," she complained, pointing at him. "You think you're the only one who can lift people?"
Matthew didn't respond.
Didn't even turn around.
He just kept placing items back where they belonged—
Calm.
Focused.
Like restoring order was more important than anything she had to say.
The moment Ava lost sight of him, she clicked her tongue and jogged after him, weaving past a couple arguing softly over brands of rice and the woman telling the man they should have just let the servant do it instead of them and a staff member restocking shelves.
By the time she caught up—
Matthew had already filled half the cart.
Fresh vegetables—bell peppers, carrots, spinach, broccoli, cabbage. A pack of mushrooms sat beside neatly wrapped cuts of chicken and beef. Eggs, milk, butter. A bag of rice. Pasta. Cooking oil. Seasonings—actual ones this time—salt, black pepper, garlic powder. Even a few basic sauces lined up like they belonged there.
Ava stared into the cart, then looked up at him.
"You didn't even pick snacks," she complained, her tone dragging slightly.
Matthew didn't respond.
He just moved forward.
Ava rolled her eyes and reached for a shelf, grabbing three packs of the same snack and dropping them into the cart.
Without looking—
Matthew removed all three.
Ava blinked.
"…Matthew."
She grabbed them again.
He removed them again.
Her eye twitched.
"Matthew, you're bullying me," she said, pointing at him accusingly. "Why can't I eat the same product multiple times?"
No answer.
Just the quiet sound of items being placed back on the shelf.
Ava inhaled deeply, holding it for a second before exhaling.
"Fine. Fine," she muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "I should be more accommodating to your diva behavior."
She clicked her tongue lightly.
"The sooner you start, the better for you," Matthew replied calmly, ignoring her sarcasm.
They moved further down the aisle.
Matthew paused at one section, scanning the shelves with quiet focus, deciding between brands.
Ava, for once
Was quiet.
Standing a little distance away.
Staring at something.
Matthew noticed.
His gaze shifted briefly toward her.
Finally found something she actually likes, he thought.
"You can pick it if you want," he said casually.
Ava turned to him slowly.
Her eyes lit up.
She smiled.
Bright.
A little too bright.
And then—
She blushed.
"Oh my," she said softly, placing a hand near her lips. "I didn't know you were so naughty."
Matthew raised a eyebrows at her when he thought she could not be any more crazy she proves him wrong.
She glanced at him again, then back at the shelf, her eyes flicking up and down like she was… assessing something.
Then she swallowed.
"If you don't want it, then don't pick it," he said flatly, already turning back to the shelf.
"Sure, sure, I want it," Ava replied lightly. "Though it's a bit… unexpected, but it won't be a loss."
She reached out—
Picked it—
And held it up.
Matthew's hand paused mid-motion.
Slowly—
He turned his head as if his eyes were not working properly.
"What did you just pick?" he asked.
Ava waved it slightly in her hand.
A small, innocent smile on her face.
"A pack of condoms."
Matthew stared at it.
Then at her.
Then back at it.
For a second
He genuinely wondered if his eyes or brain had failed him.
His fingers lifted to rub his temple.
Slow.
Controlled.
"…Put it back," he said.
Ava tilted her head.
"Why? Isn't it your size or taste? They're different flavors and sizes. Come on, tell me—I won't judge your size. We're both 18, so it's okay, and we'll be doing it soon anyway. No big deal," Ava said, glancing at his lower part with a smirk.
A woman behind them widened her eyes. "Children these days," she muttered, hurrying away.
Matthew's ears turned beet red.
"Ava, you crazy girl—put it down!"
He rushed to snatch the condom pack from her hand, but she hid it, waving it like a flag.
"What, going back on your word? No way. I know you want it. See, I'm being willing—why act shy? For us, it's your first time," she teased, standing on tiptoe. Her hot breath grazed his Adam's apple, making him swallow hard.
"I thought you were talking about a snack, not this. Ava, behave," Matthew said, his voice turning husky.
"This is a snack. A delicious one too." She kissed his lips quick and fierce, then stepped back giggling.
Matthew took a deep breath and pushed the cart past her, trying to ignore the heat rushing through him.
"Matthew, should I take ten condoms? Or all the flavors? Instead of cooking, we could do it in bed with no clothes with the lights on. If it's your first time, don't worry—you'll enjoy it!" Ava yelled, waving the pack high.
Shoppers stared—some blushed, a couple where the guy whispered to his girlfriend, "Be outspoken like her, spice up our relationship."
Another dude shot Matthew an envious glare.
Matthew spun back, snatched the condoms from her hand, tossed them on a shelf, and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Sorry, she skipped her meds—she's crazy. Don't take her words to heart," he called to the crowd, pushing the cart toward checkout.
Ava huffed, then shifted slightly on his shoulder, one hand resting against his back as she looked around upside down like she owned the place.
"Matthew, did I ever say you have a soft ass?" Ava said, poking it playfully.
"Ava."
"I'm just saying—"
"I will drop you."he growled through gritted teeth. He paid, grabbed the grocery bags, and stormed out—Ava still slung over his shoulder, her hands gripping his for balance while his steadied her thighs.
"Violence is not the answer."