"You should have followed that nice girl to her car instead," she added. "This one?
She's clearly not decent."
But Matthew—
Wasn't listening.
Not even a word registered.
His gaze stayed fixed ahead.
Cold.
Sharp.
When the girl didn't move ,He stepped forward.
Right onto her foot.
Hard.
She gasped, pulling back instinctively.
Matthew walked past her without even looking down.
The rest of the bus remained still.
Watching.
Waiting.
No one intervened.
Up front—
The man grew more confident.
Seeing no one step in, he leaned even closer, his fingers moving toward Ava's lips
But—
A hand grabbed his wrist.
Firm.
Stopping him mid-motion.
The man froze.
Matthew stood there, his expression calm but his grip unyielding.
Ava, who had been sitting there with her eyes closed and a faint smile, paused.
Her hand, which had been inside her pocket—just about to pull out a small knife—
Stopped.
She opened her eyes slowly.
And looked at Matthew.
"Get up," Matthew said flatly, releasing the man's wrist.
Ava's smile brightened instantly.
She stood up without hesitation.
The man frowned, irritation flashing across his face.
His expression twisted with anger.
He wasn't about to lose his target so easily.
Without warning—
He shoved Ava back into the seat.
Then swung his fist at Matthew.
Matthew stepped back slightly—
The punch grazing past him—
His fingers briefly touching his lip as he steadied himself.
The atmosphere in the bus shifted instantly.
"Trying to act like a hero?" the man spat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'll put you in your place."
He rolled up his sleeves, stepping forward again—
But before he could move—
A leg shot out.
Crash.
Ava's kick landed squarely on his face.
The impact snapped his head back violently—blood spraying as a few teeth followed, clattering onto the floor.
A woman nearby screamed, recoiling as drops of blood hit her clothes.
Ava lowered her leg slowly.
Calm.
Unbothered.
She ran her fingers through her hair, her lips still curved in a faint smile—yet her eyes had changed.
Sharp.
Cold.
Dangerous.
"You bitch—!" the man roared, stumbling but still charging toward her.
Before he could reach—
Matthew moved.
His leg came up—
Thud.
The kick landed hard against the man's back.
A sickening crack echoed through the bus.
The force sent the man flying forward—
Straight toward Ava.
She didn't step back.
Didn't flinch.
She caught him.
Then—
Bang.
Her phone slammed against his head.
Once.
Hard.
His body went limp instantly.
The bus fell silent.
Ava grabbed him by the collar and dragged him toward the bus door like dead weight.
With her other hand, she casually took out her phone and sent a message.
Quick. Efficient.
Within seconds—
a response came.
She turned the screen toward the driver.
The driver leaned forward slightly—
Then froze.
His face drained of color.
The document displayed clearly
Ownership authorization.
The bus company—
Now belonged to her.
The air inside the bus shifted instantly.
Authority.
Real authority.
And Ava stood there—
Still smiling.
"Open the door," Ava said slowly.
The driver swallowed, his fingers tightening around the wheel before he nodded quickly.
"Y-yes."
The doors slid open.
Without hesitation, Ava grabbed the middle-aged man and threw him out of the bus.
Thud.
The doors shut immediately after.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
No one spoke.
Some people inhaled sharply, others held their breath, afraid to even make a sound.
Ava didn't spare them a glance.
She took out her phone calmly and turned slightly, her gaze sweeping across the bus as she snapped photos.
One after another.
Then she sent them.
A single message followed:
Take care of them.
Her phone slipped back into her pocket.
Like nothing happened.
She turned.
Matthew was already heading back to his seat.
Ava walked up to him—
Then pushed him down onto the now-empty chair.
Before he could react—
She sat on his lap.
Naturally.
Like it was her place.
Her fingers lifted to his face, gently brushing his lip.
"Does it hurt?" she asked softly. "How dare he try to harm my handsome."
Her voice was light—
But there was a cold edge beneath it.
Her eyes, however, stayed warm, fixed only on him.
Matthew leaned back slightly, unfazed.
"I'm fine," he said calmly. "It's just a wound. I'm not dying."
His gaze sharpened a little.
"And I didn't know you had so much patience."
He folded his arms.
"If I didn't step in… would you have let him keep touching you?"
Ava blinked—
Then giggled.
"Are you worried about me?" she teased, tilting her head slightly. "You look so cute when you worry about me."
She leaned closer.
"Don't worry. You stepping in saved his life."
Her tone stayed playful—
But her words weren't.
"I was actually deciding whether to attack him… or wait until we were alone."
A brief pause.
"If I attacked him properly, I might stab a vein and kill him."
Her smile didn't change.
"And there are too many witnesses."
Her eyes flicked briefly around the silent bus before returning to him.
"I don't want that right now… especially when you haven't agreed to be my friend."
"Which friend sits on their friend's lap, Ava?" Matthew asked, one eyebrow raised, genuinely questioning what went on in her head.
Ava blinked at him.
Then smiled.
"We're special, aren't we?" she said lightly, a soft giggle escaping her lips.
Matthew stared at her for a second, unreadable.
Around them—
The bus had gone completely silent.
Every gaze was fixed on them.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Some clutched their phones, fingers hovering as if unsure whether to keep recording or pretend nothing happened.
Others exchanged uneasy glances.
To them—
Ava and Matthew didn't look like normal students anymore.
They looked like something else entirely.
Dangerous.
Untouchable.
Like demons wearing human faces.
A few had already tried reporting what happened.
Messages sent.
Calls made.
But what they didn't know—
The moment this bus reached its stop—
Everything would already be handled.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Their lives wouldn't end in a loud explosion—
But in silence.
Finances cut.
Connections severed.
Reputations ruined.
If they had homes tied to this neighborhood, those too could disappear.
And if they were only here because of someone else—
Then that person would be dragged down with them.
No one would escape cleanly.
As for the middle-aged man—
If he survived being thrown out—
What waited for him next…
Would be far worse.
"You're taking advantage of my help," Matthew said, one brow lifting slightly as he looked at her.
Ava shifted on his lap, adjusting her position like she belonged there, one arm loosely resting against his shoulder for balance.
"How am I taking advantage of you?" she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips
.
Her eyes narrowed slightly—not exaggerated, just enough to show calculation behind the playfulness.
"Honestly…" she continued, tilting her head a little as if studying him, "this is interesting."
Matthew didn't interrupt.
He leaned back into the seat, relaxed, one arm resting against the side, watching her calmly.
"What I've figured out about you," Ava went on, her tone light but playful honest, "is that you hate stress. Even if you act like the perfect student… the reliable classmate…"
Her gaze stayed on him, steady feeled with amusement.
"You give off the kind of energy that would ignore trouble if it doesn't concern you and if it does you would turn a blind eye even if the person is dying."
A small pause.
"But you didn't ignore me."
Matthew's lips twitched faintly—not quite a smile.
"For someone who claims to like me," he said, voice even, "you have a lot of… interesting things to say about my character."
His eyes met hers.
"I would've thought you hated me."
Ava let out a soft breath, almost amused.
"I do have a crush on you," she said plainly. "But that doesn't mean I'm brain-dead."
She shifted slightly again, more comfortable now, her voice steady.
"Even if I end up loving you later…" she added, almost casually, "I'll still separate that from logic."
Her fingers tapped lightly against his shoulder, absent-minded.
"Too much love is dangerous. Especially when it's one-sided."
For a brief moment, her tone lost its teasing edge—something quieter underneath as if bored to deal with trash.
"I grew up with my grandfather time to time ," she continued. "I understand people better than you think."
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
"I'm shameless not blind ." she said truthfully
"But like I said," she added teasingly, "you helping me means I affect you… whether you admit it or not."
She glanced back at him briefly.
"Even though I didn't need it."
Matthew scoffed lightly, turning his head away for a second.
As he did—
The back of his hand brushed faintly against her hair.
A subtle contact.
The scent reached him—light, soft… something like roses, but not overwhelming.
His movements paused for half a second.
Then he stilled.
Only now realizing—
Just how close they were.
Too close.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Ava's back rested against his chest, her body warm, her presence impossible to ignore.
Matthew swallowed once, subtly.
"If you had it under control," he said, voice still calm despite the shift in his breathing, "why didn't you do anything?"
Ava didn't answer immediately.
She kept her eyes on the passing view outside.
"I didn't want to kill someone on a bus," she said simply.
Her tone was calm.
Too calm.
"I was trying to control my temper."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"That man should be grateful."
She shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing his chest.
"You saved him twice," she added.
Matthew's gaze flickered down briefly.
"First—my patience," she continued, "which, by the way, was trained from dealing with your terrible moods."
A pause ignoring his mocking scoff.
"Second—you playing the hero."
A soft laugh escaped her.
"That part was… exciting."
She turned her head slightly, just enough for her voice to lower.
"But in the end, the 'damsel' was you."
Ava finally looked at him again.
"I saved you," she said lightly. "So you owe me."
Matthew leaned in slightly, his voice dropping near her ear.
"Did you save me for my sake…" he murmured, "or because he almost hit your favorite face?"
His breath brushed faintly against her skin.
Ava's body stilled for a split second.
A small shiver ran through her.
She leaned back just a little—closer instead of away.
Matthew noticed.
And exhaled softly through his nose.
"…Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly at her lack of restraint.
But he didn't push her away.
"Of course I would save the face," Ava said lightly, her lips curving as she leaned closer. "That's why I call you handsome."
Her fingers pressed against his chest, slow, unhurried, like she had all the time in the world.
"It would be such a waste," she added, almost thoughtfully. "Losing something this pleasing to look at… my poor heart wouldn't survive finding you a new nickname."
Matthew's breath hitched—barely noticeable, but there.
"Ava," he said under his breath, a quiet warning.
She didn't move.
If anything, she settled more comfortably against him, her hand still resting where it shouldn't.
Matthew exhaled slowly, forcing his gaze away.
Around them—
The bus remained unnaturally quiet.
No one spoke.
The earlier scene—Ava throwing a man out of a moving bus—still lingered heavily in everyone's mind.
Even now, some passengers sat stiffly, their hands gripping their bags a little tighter.
Others stared ahead, pretending not to notice anything.
The atmosphere hadn't recovered.
Outside—
The bus rolled forward at a controlled pace, its polished exterior reflecting the pristine surroundings as it entered one of the most exclusive districts in the city—a place so refined that even wealth had ranks within it.
Everyone held their breath expect of Ava and Matthew,This was no ordinary elite neighborhood.
It functioned more like a private city, meticulously divided into three distinct sections, each representing a different tier of power and influence.
Here, money alone was not enough. Status was measured in empires—companies worth millions, public figures with global recognition, and families whose names carried weight across industries. Even high-earning professionals, despite their wealth, could not simply buy their way in.
The outer section was the most accessible of the three—though "accessible" was a relative term.
It consisted of a large residential compound made up of multiple luxury homes grouped together as a single unified estate. Rather than a solitary building, it was a carefully planned cluster of mansions, each designed differently yet connected through private roads, shared security systems, and exclusive amenities.
Surrounding this area were commercial establishments—high-end boutiques, private clubs, and curated tourist attractions that catered only to a select class.
Further in lay the inner section, where three major residential estates stood. Each of these was not a single structure, but an expansive collection of residences, forming self-contained communities.
These estates were quieter, more guarded, and far more difficult to access. Ownership here implied not just wealth, but influence—people who shaped industries rather than worked within them.
At the very core was the final section—the most restricted and revered area. Only two residential estates existed there, each sprawling across vast land like kingdoms of their own.
Entry into this part of the district was less about financial capability and more about legacy and dominance.
Families who lived here were not just rich—they were institutions.
Certain streets and estates within the district were off-limits to anything deemed "common," even something as refined as a luxury bus. It was an unspoken rule: proximity itself could be seen as disrespect to those at the very top.
As the bus approached the guarded entrance leading deeper inside, a security officer stepped forward, ready to halt its progress.
Before he could speak, Ava raised her hand from within, holding a golden card between her fingers.
The card gleamed under the light—an unmistakable symbol.
It wasn't just a resident pass. It represented authorization for the innermost section.
The guard's expression shifted instantly. Without hesitation, he stepped aside and signaled for the gates to open.
The barrier lifted.
And just like that, the bus—something that normally wouldn't even be allowed near such territory—was granted entry into the most untouchable part of the district.
The bus pushed forward into the outer section, and the city seemed to open up around it.
Luxury wasn't hidden here—it was loud.
Glass buildings stretched into the sky, their mirrored surfaces reflecting rows of high-end stores below.
Designer brands lined the streets, their logos glowing subtly above wide entrances where staff stood ready, perfectly dressed, perfectly trained.
Cars moved in steady streams—sleek black sedans, customized sports cars, polished SUVs—each one gliding like it belonged.
People filled the sidewalks.
Not crowded—but busy.
Women in heels walked with purpose, phones pressed to their ears, their voices low but sharp.
Men in tailored suits stepped out of cars without waiting, assistants already at their side. Laughter spilled from open café spaces where expensive cups sat untouched while conversations carried more value than the drinks themselves.
Even the air felt expensive.
Alive.
The bus didn't fit.
And people noticed.
Heads turned—not dramatically, but enough.
A man paused mid-step, frowning slightly as the bus passed.
Two teenagers by a storefront leaned closer to each other, whispering. A driver slowed his car just enough to look twice.
Inside the bus—
Passengers shifted.
Some leaned toward the windows, eyes widening despite themselves. Others straightened, suddenly aware of how out of place they felt.
And then—
Ava lifted her hand.
The golden card rested between her fingers.
At the next checkpoint, the guard stepped forward automatically—
Then froze.
His eyes locked onto the card.
His posture changed instantly.
No hesitation.
The barrier lifted.
The bus moved through.
The moment they crossed into the second section—
Everything changed.
Not quieter—
But refined.
The noise softened, like it had been filtered.
The buildings were no longer trying to impress—they simply were.
Elegant structures stretched along the streets, designed with precision instead of excess.
Polished stone, subtle gold details, wide glass panels that reflected not chaos—but order.
Water features ran quietly along pathways, their movement controlled, intentional.
Vehicles still moved—
But slower.
More spaced out.
Each one carried presence.
Drivers didn't rush. No unnecessary honking. No wasted motion.
People here walked like they owned more than money.
Conversations were softer, but heavier.
A man stood outside a building, speaking quietly while three others listened without interrupting.
A woman stepped out of a car, her heels barely making a sound as someone else opened the door for her before she even reached it.
Even the air felt… different.
Not loud luxury.
Controlled power.
Inside the bus—
No one dared speak anymore.
The earlier whispers had died completely.
Now—
There was only silence.
Heavy.
[ Sorry it has been postpon to 8 of May and only posting Thursday and Friday but today my birthday I will post three ]