The kiss was cold, hollow, and tasted of the lingering alcohol on Lucas's breath. Aleena squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to sever the connection between her body and her soul. She could hear the collective intake of breath from the crowd, the clatter of a phone hitting the floor, and the strangled hiss of Chloe's suppressed rage.
After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Lucas pulled away. He didn't push her, but the suddenness of his retreat left Aleena reeling, nearly losing her footing until she forced herself to steady.
"Satisfied?" Lucas asked the crowd, his voice calm yet lethally sharp. "She isn't a thief, nor is she a common servant. She is my personal plaything. So, if anyone wants to touch her, you'll have to ask for my permission first."
He leaned down, retrieving his bag from the floor and tossing it back into the arms of the frozen Aleena.
"Take that to class. And don't be late," Lucas commanded. He strode away, brushing past Chloe as if the blonde girl were nothing more than a piece of lobby decor.
***
Aleena ran.
She didn't care about the sneering glances or the whispers that clung to her back like shadows. She locked herself in one of the third-floor toilet stalls, turned on the faucet, and scrubbed her lips with the back of her hand until they were raw and stinging.
"I hate you, Lucas Kingsley," she sobbed, muffled. "I hate you more than anything."
But amidst her choked cries, the main toilet door swung open. High-heeled footsteps echoed on the marble floor.
"You think you won?" Chloe's voice cut through the air from outside the stall. "You're just a plastic trophy to Lucas, Aleena. He's using you to get back at his father. Once he's bored, he'll toss you in the trash, exactly like your mother did."
Aleena wiped away her tears. She didn't come out, but her voice was chillingly cold from behind the wooden door. "At least he had to pay a steep price to discard me. As for you? You offered yourself for free, and he didn't even bother to look at you back there in the lobby."
The furious stomp of Chloe's heels became a perverse kind of music to Aleena as she finally emerged from the stall. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Her face was pale, and Aleena felt utterly, irrevocably dirty.
***
The news of Aleena becoming Lucas's 'little plaything' spread through the school like wildfire.
The judgmental glares were no longer hidden behind hushed whispers. In the corridors, students went out of their way to clear a wide path as Aleena passed, as if she were carrying a terminal plague. The label stuck faster than permanent ink, obliterating every shred of dignity she had fought to maintain during her three years at this elite academy.
Aleena stood before the door of Class 12-A, her History period—a class she shared with Lucas. Her arms, still clutching his leather bag, trembled violently.
She knew that the moment she stepped through that door, her life as the "perfect scholarship student" was officially over.
***
As Aleena stepped inside, the raucous chatter of the classroom died instantly. Lucas was perched in the back row, his boots propped up on the desk, idly flicking a silver lighter in his hand.
"You're three minutes late," Lucas remarked, his eyes never wavering from the dancing flame.
Aleena approached him, dropping the bag onto his desk with a muffled thud. "Here is your bag. Our business is done for the day, right?"
Lucas snapped the lighter shut with a sharp, metallic click. He looked up, his gaze lingering on Aleena's lips, which were still slightly swollen from the frantic scrubbing in the restroom. A faint, predatory smirk ghosted across his face.
"Done? This is merely the opening act," Lucas whispered, loud enough for his friends to erupt into mocking laughter. "Sit next to me. Now."
"I'm not part of this class, Lucas," Aleena replied firmly.
As a scholarship student, Aleena's classes were held in a different building from the elite Class 12-A, separated by an invisible but ironclad social caste. But Lucas only let out a low chuckle, his baritone voice creeping through the silence like a cold mist.
"As of today, you are my personal assistant for History. I've already had someone 'arrange' your schedule change with the Principal," Lucas said, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the desk. "Sit down, Aleena. Don't make me repeat a command."
The entire class held their breath. Some girls whispered with venom, while others watched her with a pity that felt more like an insult. Aleena felt as if the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. She glanced at the empty chair beside Lucas—a throne of thorns designed specifically to torture her.
With what little courage she had left, Aleena pulled the chair out. The screech of metal against the floor sounded like a broken sob. As she sat, the scent of alcohol she'd encountered in the lobby hit her again, mingling with an expensive cologne that now made her stomach churn.
"Good," Lucas murmured. "From now on, your seat is wherever I am."
This interaction is the perfect "turning point" for a dark romance. Here is the translation, leaning into the tension, the biting dialogue, and the toxic possessiveness that Wattpad readers love.
In the middle of the lecture, Lucas leaned in, his voice a low drawl. "Was that your first kiss?"
Aleena froze. He asked it with such casual indifference, as if they were discussing the weather rather than the dignity he had just trampled in the lobby.
"None of your business," Aleena hissed without turning her head. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles turned white.
Lucas let out a dark, dry chuckle—a sound that sent a cold shiver racing down Aleena's spine.
"How many rich boys have you managed to seduce with that mouth before me?"
Aleena snapped her head toward him, her eyes flashing with a suppressed, lethal fury. In reality, Aleena had never approached a single man for money, despite her mother's constant prodding. But why should she explain herself to him?
"Too many to count," Aleena lied, her voice dripping with false confidence. "I stopped keeping track after a hundred."
At those words, Lucas's hand curled into a tight fist. Aleena was exactly the kind of girl he despised.
His jaw tightened. The lazy mask he had been wearing shattered, replaced by a gaze sharp enough to cut skin. He slammed the front legs of his chair back onto the floor with a deafening thud, making the history teacher jump in startle.
"A hundred?" Lucas whispered, his voice now as heavy and dark as lead. He brought his face flush against her ear, his hot breath searing her skin. "In that case, I'll have to make sure I'm the most unforgettable one of them all. Because as of today, your count stops at a hundred and one. There won't be another man after me."
Aleena swallowed hard. She had meant to provoke him, but she hadn't realized she was awakening such a dark, possessive beast within him.
***
Lunch break arrived, but for Aleena, the nightmare was only beginning.
Lucas didn't let her slip away to the cafeteria alone. Instead, he wrapped a hand around her wrist, dragging her toward the large circular table in the center of the hall—the throne where the "royals" of Ravenswood gathered.
Chloe was already there, her eyes puffy and red, flanked by Lucas's friends who were already wearing wicked smirks.
"Sit," Lucas commanded, his hand heavy on Aleena's shoulder as he forced her into the chair beside him.
"I want to eat somewhere else," Aleena refused softly, her voice trembling.
"Eat," Lucas snapped, ignoring her protest. He slid a plate of expensive steak, freshly served by the cafeteria staff, toward her. "Finish it. You're far too thin for something my father paid so much for."
His friends burst into raucous laughter. One of them, a boy named Julian, piped up with a grin, "Watch out, Lucas. She's a bit too pretty. Don't go falling for her now."
Lucas shot Julian a lethal look, effectively killing the laughter in the air. "She won't be the one conquering me," Lucas said coldly, his eyes fixed on Aleena as she stared hollowly at her plate.
"Because I'm the one who's going to break her."