Aleena didn't sleep.
She spent the entire night sitting on the floor, knees pulled tightly against her chest, staring at the new uniform hanging in the wardrobe. It was a replica of her old one, yet the fabric was far more refined, featuring the Ravenswood Academy crest embroidered in genuine gold thread. To her, it wasn't a school uniform; it was a prisoner's garb.
At exactly six o'clock, Aleena stood outside Lucas's bedroom door in the East Wing. The corridor was deathly silent, save for the hollow chime of a grandfather clock echoing in the distance.
The door swung open. Lucas emerged, his uniform slightly disheveled. His eyes were bloodshot—a telltale sign of a sleepless night or perhaps too much to drink. Without a word, he tossed his expensive leather bag at her chest.
"Carry this," he commanded curtly.
Aleena caught the bag with a struggle. Its weight felt as heavy as the life she was now forced to endure. As they walked toward the luxury car waiting in the lobby, the servants bowed their heads, but Aleena could still feel their hidden gazes—some filled with pity, others with pure contempt.
Inside the Rolls-Royce, the silence was suffocating. Lucas was buried in his phone, acting as if Aleena didn't even exist beside him.
"Lucas," Aleena whispered as the car neared the school gates.
"Don't speak my name without permission," Lucas snapped, his eyes never leaving the screen.
"Young Master..." Aleena corrected herself, the words tasting like ash in her throat. "Does everyone at school have to know about... my status in your house?"
Lucas finally turned. He looked at her with nothing but disdain. "You think I want the world to know my father bought a poor girl like you just to keep me in line? It's pathetic."
He leaned in closer, pinning her against the car door. "At school, you're just another invisible scholarship student. But you are to remain within my sight at all times. When I call, you come. When I tell you to leave, you vanish. Understood?"
"Understood."
***
The moment the car screeched to a halt in front of Ravenswood's main building, Lucas stepped out without a backward glance. Aleena followed in his wake, his heavy bag slung over her shoulder, her head bowed as low as possible. But this school was a den of predators—and they had a sharp scent for blood.
A crowd had already gathered around the massive bulletin board in the lobby. There, centered right on Aleena's locker, was a large crimson seal. It was the mark of the pariah—a target for those deemed socially "problematic" or marked for bullying.
Chloe, a striking girl with a high blonde ponytail, approached with her arms crossed. She was Lucas's girlfriend—or at least, the girl most frequently seen draped over his arm.
"Look who's carrying our Young Master's bag," Chloe sneered, her voice ringing out until every head in the lobby turned. "Aleena, I heard your mother finally sold off the last of your family's pride. Is it true? Are you living in the Kingsley mansion's shed now?"
Cruel laughter erupted down the corridor. Aleena gripped the strap of Lucas's bag until her knuckles turned white. She stole a glance at Lucas, who stood nearby, flanked by his inner circle.
Lucas remained silent. He flicked a lighter open, staring boredly at the small flame as if the scene unfolding was nothing more than cheap entertainment. He didn't defend her; instead, he seemed to relish watching his "asset" get trampled.
"Answer me, you b*tch," Chloe pressed, shoving Aleena's shoulder. "Or do you want me to rip that expensive uniform off you? Because we both know you must have stolen it."
Heat surged from Aleena's chest to her face. It wasn't shame—it was the embers of a long-buried rage finally catching fire. She had lost her mother, her home, and her future. If she let them take her dignity in this hallway, there would be nothing left of Aleena at all.
She lifted her head, meeting Chloe's gaze with icy precision.
"I didn't steal it." Aleena's voice was steady, cutting through the raucous laughter of the lobby like a blade.
Chloe's eyes narrowed, sensing the challenge. "Oh, really? Then how did a parasite like you end up wearing fabric this expensive?"
"You want to know?" Aleena took a deliberate step forward, causing Chloe to flinch. She hadn't expected the 'scholarship girl' to grow a backbone. "Why don't you ask the Kingsleys why they're paying me so much? Maybe they needed someone saner than the people in this room to handle their brand of madness."
The lobby fell deathly silent. Those words weren't just a jab at Chloe; they were a stinging slap to the Kingsley family's prestige.
Lucas, who had been flicking his lighter with detached boredom, froze. His dark eyes shifted, locking onto Aleena with predatory focus. A thin smirk played on his lips—not out of pride, but the amusement of a hunter watching his prey finally flash its fangs.
"How dare you, Aleena?" Chloe hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "You're nothing but trash picked up from the gutter!"
"If I'm trash, then you—begging for Lucas's attention all morning—must be the scavenger who didn't get her share," Aleena countered, the blow landing perfectly.
"You—!" Chloe swung her hand back, ready to deliver a stinging slap.
"Enough."
The voice was deep, not loud, yet it carried an authority that froze everyone in their tracks. Lucas stepped forward, the crowd parting for him like a king walking toward an execution block.
He stood between Chloe and Aleena, his gaze so intense it stole the breath from Aleena's lungs.
"You actually have a spine," Lucas whispered. His voice was for her ears only, but his eyes swept over the drama-hungry spectators.
"You're the one who told me I had to survive, didn't you?" Aleena challenged, clinging to her last shred of courage. "I won't let anyone trample me—not even your people."
Lucas let out a low, dark chuckle. "People want to know your status in my house, Aleena. They think you're a maid. They think you're a thief." He glanced at the crowd before turning back to her with a look of pure, calculated malice. "Should I tell them exactly how I plan to break a 'wild horse' like you?"
Aleena's heart hammered against her ribs. What? What is he doing? "Lucas, don't..."
"Come here," Lucas commanded, his voice like ice.
Aleena didn't move.
"I said, come here." Lucas lunged forward, grabbing her waist and hauling her body flush against his chest. The heavy leather bag Aleena had been holding hit the floor with a dull thud.
Lucas scanned his peers, his voice booming so the entire lobby could hear. "You all want to know what she is to me?"
He leaned down, his lips hovering mere inches from Aleena's ear. "Show them how obedient you can be, Aleena. Kiss me. Now. In front of everyone, or I'll make sure your mother rots in prison for the money she swindled from my father."
The world seemed to stop spinning. This was a humiliation far more brutal than any physical blow.
"Do it," Lucas hissed again, his eyes locking onto hers with ruthless intent. "Show them that you belong to me."
With trembling hands and tears threatening to spill—held back only by the sheer force of her hatred—Aleena rose onto her tiptoes.
Under the shocked gaze of hundreds of spectators—including Chloe, whose face had turned ghostly pale—Aleena pressed her lips against the cold, unyielding mouth of Lucas Kingsley.
It wasn't a kiss of love. It was a contractual seal, a declaration that from this second forward, Aleena's soul officially belonged to the devil.