Aubree was surprisingly relaxed, thanks to Bowen keeping things laid back.

"Thanks," she said softly.

Akin shot Bowen a side eye, "Weren't we hitting that fancy spot tonight?"

The place was cute, with a little garden out front that screamed charm. The food was a total win. The loup was so good Aubree grabbed a second bowl. Funny thing, the dishes they ordered were perfect for a sensitive stomach, all warm and hearty. Pure luck? Who knew?

"Hey, Ms. Miller..." Bowen started, leaning in.

Time for the real talk, Aubree thought...

"Just use my name," she said with a grin.

Bowen chuckled. "Alright, Bree it is."

That nickname hit her hard. Back at the orphanage, her sponsor, Mr. Quinn, sent her cash every month with a letter, always calling her Bree. No one else ever did.

Aubree bit her lip but didn’t argue. "Sure."

Bowen lit up when she went with it. He said, "So, Bree, I heard you snapped a spot in Rithol Art School’s program. That’s dope! You’re into art, right? You know Alvin’s in your class, but his art grades? Straight-up rough. Got time to swing by our place on weekends to tutor him?"

Alvin’s jaw hit the floor. Is he serious? He glared at Bowen like he’d lost his mind. Everyone knew Alvin wasn’t bad at art–he was just lazy, Bowen knew that. His old teachers were pros. And now he couldn’t believe some high school kid was gonna tutor him.

Also, when did I sign up for this? he thought.

Alvin opened his mouth to protest, but Bowen’s look shut him down. "Alvin, you need this, man." That smile said, "Don't even try."

Alvin zipped it. "Fine: Guess U have no say!"

Aubree was just as shocked. "For real? With Alvin’s family cash, they could hire anyone. Why me?"

“We’re not asking you to do it for nothing," Bowen added. "How's 300 dollars per session?" He didn’t say how long the gig would run, but that’s 600 dollars a week, minimum.

Aubree played it cool, but that cash was calling her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Bowen knew she was broke and was tossing her a lifeline.

Bowen leaned back, hands clasped, chill as ever. No rush, no pressure, just waiting for her to decide, all respect. Aubree didn’t shoot it down. She was thinking.

It wasn’t just the money. It was Bowen, his network, his clout. Her plan was to make waves, then use Alvin’s family ties to land investors. Simple enough. But now? New plan. If she could get the Turner family to back her business, that was not just money–it was protection. Nobody crosses the Turners, not…

"Alright, I'm in," Aubree said with a nod, sealing the deal.

Aubree glanced at her phone. "Well, Mr. Turner, it's late. Wanna swap numbers and chat later? I'm outta here!"

Bowen stood, smooth as ever. "I’ll drive you."

Alvin, totally sidelined, raised a hand like he was in school. "Uh, I got stuff to do."

Bowen shot him a look. "Relax, Alvin. I’m just dropping Bree off."

"Uber," Alvin muttered, backtracking fast.

As Bowen led Aubree out, the bodyguards in the car gawked like it was a reality show.

"Mr. Turner's ditching the kid to play taxi for a girl?" one hissed.

"She's Mr. Alvin Turner's classmate. Probably just being nice, right?" the other said.

"Nice? The guy who sasses his dad is nice to some random girl?"

Silence hit the car.

The first guy chuckled. "C'mon. Mr. Turner's way older than her. He's not that crazy. Plus, he's, like, allergic to girls."

The second guy smirked. "Didn't Kelvin say Mr. Bowen Turner had him snoop on this Miss Miller today?"

Dead quiet. Then the first guy growled, "Man, Bowen's such a dog!"

Meanwhile, Aubree trailed Bowen by a step.

He was drop dead gorgeous. She’d seen hot guys–her Wilson family had faces that could stop traffic. Her brother Trevor, the movie star, had a jawline that screamed Hollywood, but Bowen? He was unreal. It wasn’t just his looks. He had this vibe–cool, untouchable, like he didn’t belong here. Sharp cheekbones, wickedly bold features that hit like a truck. His eyes were deep, like they could see people’s secrets, with a soft starry glow. He was in a plain tee and jeans, but on him? Straight-up model vibes.

Aubree rubbed her nose, slowing down. She wasn’t bad-looking–hell, in her old life, Carmen was jealous enough to mess up her face. But next to Bowen, she felt like any creep would flirt with him first.

“Where to?” he asked.

"Double Loop Road."

"Gotcha." It was a quick walk to the car. The bodyguard had the door open.

Aubree slid in. The seat sank as Bowen hopped in beside her, bodyguard up front as usual. Aubree froze. They’d fallen together before, but now it was just them. She messed with her phone, regretting this big time.

His scent–cologne and him–filled the air, and she had to breathe slow to stay cool. Mad respect to Alvin for gaming around this guy without flinching.

"Why switch to regular classes senior year?" Bowen asked, glancing over.

Aubree jumped, looking up. He leaned back, shirt showing a peek of collarbone. His eyes had a chill, curious vibe. If his face wasn’t so intense, he’d seem like a cool uncle checking on her grades.

"Felt like it’s more my thing," she said.

"Bet it’s tough, huh?" he asked.

"Nah, I’m good." She relaxed a bit.

They chatted, keeping it chill. He mentioned tutoring. "Text me when you're set, and I’ll send a ride."

"Cool." Talking to him felt easy. Like they’d been buddies forever.

"Stop at the internet cafe," she said, eyeing the street. Time to game. Alvin had been watching her gameplay vids, and tonight, he’d probably queue up to scope her out.

The God's Fury team was just five players, facing Apex Squad, a veteran powerhouse. She couldn't let them know their mid-laner was out. New player? Had to be hush-hush. From her old life, she knew Alvin would test her in a match–teammate or rival. Pass, and he'd DM her.

The car pulled up to the café.