Lilian Carson POV

The Audi came to a halt in the parking lot. There were many expensive cars lined up in a row. I hurriedly exited the vehicle and headed for the campus. I simply want to leave those bodyguards behind. I felt a sense of independence and freedom that I hadn't felt in a while as I walked. The peace of my escape was enhanced by the brisk breeze and the sound of rustling leaves. Thank goodness, the guards won't follow me around the campus.

I inhaled deeply and felt the stress of the outside world gradually dissipate. I couldn't help but feel appreciative for this time of solitude as I made my way further into the campus. Bright sunlight streams down from the sky and dances across the still water's surface as it reflects off the brick walls and the lovely flower fields that surround the opulent structure. The peaceful ambiance was enhanced by the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the light breeze.

There were a lot of people in the area. I could sense the vigour and excitement in the air as I walked into the building. The area was filled with the chatter and laughter of the crowd, which was evidently having fun. Some individuals gave me strange looks, and others simply turned and left. I actually felt alive and forgot what had happened for a split second.

I approach the office space to ask about my class. I noticed a woman sitting on the desk; she must be in her forties. She grinned as she gave me a look. I give her the required paperwork while returning a smile. She looks over the page before returning it to me.

"The third floor is where English majors take classes. Room number 301."

I expressed my gratitude to the gracious woman and left, feeling relieved that everything had gone smoothly. I couldn't help but think about how a simple smile can brighten someone's day as I left the building.

I looked for the stairs and found them quickly. Everyone appeared to be busy or having a good time with their friends. I walked up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. As I approached the third floor, I noticed a large English banner with the names of famous authors and poets. I look around the corridor, and my gaze is drawn to room 301.

I slowly walked inside the classroom and sat down on the middle desk. There were numerous additional people seated inside the class. I looked around, trying to recognise a familiar face, and I could feel my heart beating fast. Being alone and nervous in a room full of strangers was very uncomfortable.

I was sitting still and aimlessly scanning the room because it was still too early for class to begin. I observed some individuals conversing with one another while others were reading books with earphones plugged in. The air was quiet, and you could hear soft whispers and the sound of pages turning. I couldn't help but wonder what they were reading or discussing as I sat there.

A girl with jet-black hair enters the classroom a short while later. She looked directly into my eyes and grinned at me. She had reddish brown skin and was tall and curvy. She also had a pierced nose. She stood out in a crowd thanks to her piercings, which complemented her attractive features. She walked with a confident stride that exuded poise and self-assurance. She walked towards me and settled down beside me.

"Hello, I'm Zoey Violet."

In order to shake hands, Zoey extended her hand. Her sudden friendliness perplexed me. I'm not sure if I've ever met her. Maybe she's just amiable by nature, or maybe she recognised me from somewhere.

Violet? Is she related to Natalie Violet? Natalie is a fantastic designer; her outfits and bags are one-of-a-kind and out of the norm. Natalie's designs are fantastic. After seeing her, I've always wanted to be a fashion designer. Natalie's distinct style and attention to detail are genuinely outstanding, and it's no surprise that she has inspired a slew of aspiring fashion designers. Her inventiveness and enthusiasm for fashion are extremely infectious. Zoey appears to be the chatty one. I smiled as I shook her hand.

"My name is Lilian Carson; glad to meet you," I introduced myself.

Zoey gathered her notebook and laptop. The holographic bag sticker on top of her laptop catches my eye. No way! That particular sticker is a limited edition from Natalie's recent collections. I'd always wanted one but couldn't easily buy one. My suspicions about their relationship grew.

"Do you have any kinship with Natalie Violet?" I inquired with curiosity. Zoey fixed her gaze on me. Her silence made me uneasy, as if I had said something inappropriate or offensive.

"She is my mother, and are you a fan?"

When I asked Zoey if Natalie was her mother, she appeared a little apprehensive. I'm curious as to why Zoey held back on identifying her mother. Perhaps their relationship had a rocky past, or she didn't want to sound boastful about her well-known mother.

"Well, I'm a big fan; aren't you fond of your mother's creations?"

Her grin vanishes. She took a look at the sticker before turning to face me. I wanted to do something to cheer her up because I guess the sticker might have brought back painful memories for her. Perhaps telling my personal story will be helpful, or I might just be thinking too much.

"My mother is gifted. The truth is that I live with my father because my mother is constantly busy and unable to care for me, so we are not particularly close." Zoey explained with a melancholy look.

Despite her inability to spend much time with her mother, Zoey admires her abilities and is proud of her achievements. Zoey is straightforward, which I admire. I wonder whether I might ever appreciate my father's accomplishments, even though I despise him and his possessions are nothing to be proud of.

The only thing that separates her from me is that she has a loving father and mother. I, on the other hand, have none. My father sold his own daughter to a stranger. And then there's Alexander, the insane jerk. I'm not even sure what term I could assign to my connection with Alexander. He is neither my fiancé nor do we have any kind of relationship. So, who are we?

"Are you having a daydream?" Zoey asked, shaking her hand in front of my eyes. I returned to reality. I've been dozing off very regularly lately. Before returning to work, I massaged my eyes and stretched my arms. Maybe I should cut back on the caffeine.

"Well, I was simply thinking about something else," I hurriedly explained.

The professor walks into the classroom in a few seconds, sporting a beard, smooth back hair, and a sling bag around his waist. I instantly collected my thoughts and concentrated on the professor. His confident demeanour and relaxed attitude put me at ease.

"I am Professor Rhys, your literature professor for this semester."

He gave a brief introduction about himself before going over the course material, which included a range of literary genres and authors. I was eager to pick up knowledge from someone who seemed so experienced.

"Pay attention, or I'll make everyone fail," the professor bellowed sarcastically.

He seems to be a little irritable, in my opinion. The instructor's warning, however, also shows that he takes his lesson seriously and anticipates that his pupils will do the same. To gain my attention, Zoey gently elbowed me. I face her as I turn.

"What's going on?" I inquired curiously, wanting to know what she had to say.

"Mr. Rhys is quite attractive."

I stared at Zoey in shock. Surely Professor Rhys is older than we are. She didn't hesitate to like the man, though. But in my opinion, it's not always a good idea to get along with your teachers or professors because this might lead to conflicts of interest and harm the learning atmosphere. Just my view, though.

"Are you attracted to older men?" I queried. She appeared to be waiting for someone to ask her this question as her lips curled into a smile and her eyes twinkled.

"Indeed, older men are wiser and more considerate," Zoey remarked with a wink. Seriously? It's not always the case, in my opinion.

When I once inquired about Alexander's age, Hannah responded that he is 27 years old. He doesn't strike me as mature or compassionate. Simply put, Alexander is a complex individual.

We continue to talk while also paying attention to the lecture. Time was quickly up, and the lesson was over. Thanks in large part to Zoey, the class went without a hitch. She is friendly and witty. Because of Zoey's sense of humour, the class was more fun for me and had a better atmosphere overall.

Professor Rhys assigned us homework, and the class was finally over. He only allowed us a set amount of time to turn in these tasks. I'm so tired that I'm not sure I'll be able to finish it on time. especially given the circumstances I am currently enduring at my so-called home.

Me and Zoey agreed to stroll together to the exit. The aroma of coffee filled the air, which felt good to the touch. We both decided to visit the new coffee shop in the area soon as Zoey expressed her delight about it as we walked. I became aware that it had been a while since I had experienced such joy. Having a new friend has currently made my life happier and helped me get past my despair. It's incredible how a basic human connection can have such a profoundly positive effect on one's wellbeing. Although I am aware that the sensation is fleeting and that I will soon be reunited with Alexander, the devil.

"So you are not staying in the dormitory?" Zoey inquired, raising her left brow.
I agree with a nod of my head. I kept Alexander and my delicate relationship with him,to myself. I don't want anyone to know as it would be quite awkward, and I don't want any unwanted attention aimed at me.

"I truly wished I could have stayed in the dorms, but I can't."

Alexander would murder me for that blunder; he made it obvious with his warning. That man cannot defend me; in fact, I require protection from him. Sherley may have gotten incorrect information, but she obviously misinterpreted the entire situation. My father must be spreading rumours about him being a hero since he sent his daughter to a stranger to safeguard her. I've been seeing my father's nasty methods since I was a toddler.

"Dorms are fun, but my roommate is a jackass; I despise her," Zoey stated, rolling her eyes. That sounds extremely awful. Sharing a room with someone you despise? Not my cup of tea. I would have switched rooms. Changing rooms are certainly not always practicable in a dorm setup.

"You could discuss with your roommate how to make the place more comfortable for both of you."

"No, she simply despises me as much as I despise her. She even insulted my mother."

There appears to be a lot of tension and anger between Zoey and this person. I'm sure I'd feel the same way if I had to share a room with Alexander. He can be tough to live with since he is domineering and dismissive of other people's viewpoints. He is also a murderer, so I would almost certainly be murdered.

"Hey, do you recognise that guy? He's constantly staring at you," Zoey asked, pointing to a blonde-haired man.

I glanced at the man out of the corner of my eye. I felt frightened, and my heart skipped a beat as soon as I saw his face. He appeared even more intimidating due to his massive shoulders and harsh gaze. I glanced away hastily, thinking he wasn't watching.

'Not possible! He is unable to be here', I thought to myself.

I can't let the nightmare follow me here. I must be hallucinating. I inhaled deeply and looked around, attempting to reorient myself to the present. But the creepy silence and the recognisably human face just increased my anxiety. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up in alarm. My spine feels like it is being raked by invisible fingers.

He has a face that looks like a death mask hanging from a bone and is tall, black, and lean. His lips are thin, like a dry river, and his eyes are like holes. How come you're here, Jax Coleman? He emerged from the gutter again, like a cockroach.

My hands began to shake. Like previously, I felt like I was drowning. I was unable to breathe. He ought to have left my life a long time ago. I can't continue to be here. I swiftly made my way to the parking lot after leaving the university. Despite Zoey's voice shouting my name, I ignored her and carried on with my steps.

I resisted the impulse to scratch my arms severely until the bleeding didn't cease. I was a complete wreck. I inhaled deeply and forced myself to remember that self-harm was not the answer to my concerns. I had no other choice but to go to Alexander's house. I can't even flee because I know he'll find me and torment me. I felt trapped and helpless, my mind racing with ideas of how to break free from his hold.

My past is now haunting me, while my present mocks me. The weight of my emotions is suffocating, and I can't seem to find a way out of this darkness. Every day feels like a battle, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep fighting.