Beneath his cold eyes

New York mornings were never gentle.

The cold always hit first-sharp, insistent, almost aggressive-as if the city itself wanted to remind newcomers that nothing here came easy. Danielle Adams felt every bit of it as she stood before the towering gates of St. Claire's High School, the elite institution people whispered about with both admiration and envy.

Her breath formed a small cloud in the air as she tightened her grip on her backpack straps.

New school.

New city.

New everything.

She hated how nervous she felt.

Her father's transfer to the NYPD headquarters had uprooted their entire life in a matter of weeks. One month she was comfortable in her quiet hometown; now she was standing in front of a school where every student looked like they walked out of a magazine cover.

Sleek cars-BMWs, Lamborghinis, pristine black SUVs-lined the entrance as chauffeurs opened doors for teenagers who carried themselves with effortless confidence. Designer bags, glossy hair, diamond bracelets... Danielle swallowed, suddenly too aware of her simple ponytail, plain jeans, and the old hoodie she had refused to throw away.

"Okay, Danielle," she whispered to herself. "Just breathe. It's school, not war."

But the moment she stepped through the gates, she felt it-the weight of eyes.

Not unkind, not hostile, but curious.

Intrigued by the new face that didn't quite fit the polished aesthetic of St. Claire's.

She kept walking, trying to stay focused, until a black SUV rolled to a stop near the curb.

The chatter around her fell into an instant hush.

Danielle didn't have to turn around to know someone important had arrived. The shift in the atmosphere said everything. She looked anyway, more out of instinct than intention-and froze.

Justin Walker.

She recognized him from the school website banner. And from the way people whispered his name in hallways the past few days whenever teachers discussed "attitude problems" or "discipline evaluations."

But in person?

He was... intense.

Tall, effortlessly striking, almost unfairly handsome. His hair was dark, tousled like he hadn't bothered to fix it yet it still fell perfectly. His eyes were sharp, cold, unreadable. The kind of eyes that silently dared the world to get too close.

He didn't smile.

He didn't greet anyone.

He didn't need to.

Students parted around him without him saying a word.

Danielle blinked quickly and forced herself to look away. The last thing she wanted was to start her first day by staring at the most intimidating boy in school.

Inside the main building, she dug out her schedule, trying to match the room numbers with the long, intimidating hallway. The place smelled faintly of mint and old wooden floors, polished to perfection. Every step echoed louder than she expected, making her feel even smaller.

She turned left, then right, then realized she had completely lost her way.

"Great," she muttered under her breath.

She held the map closer to her face, walking a little faster-too fast. She turned a corner-

-and collided straight into someone.

Her