Chapter 13 

Once we finished sorting Gabriel’s books and he’d done his whole obsessive-compulsive thing with the desk, his apartment finally looked less like it belonged to some black ops operative and more like a normal grad student’s place. 

You know, the kind who stress-eats instant ramen and has breakdown sticky notes all over their laptop. 

I’m leaning against his table, watching him adjust the last few books with military precision, and I can’t help myself. 

The domestic scene is almost cute, which makes everything so much worse. This could’ve been us-two guys helping each other out, maybe fooling around afterward. 

Instead, it’s all contaminated by the fact that he’s literally paid to babysit me. 

“So…” I decided to poke the bear. “How’s the reporting going? Am I making my royal handlers proud?” 

He doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t have the decency to look guilty. Just gives me this tiny smile like my sarcasm is amusing rather than soul-crushing. 

“Not bad, actually.” 

That smile hits me like a slap. Because it reminds me-again-that no matter where I am, Harvard or the palace, I’m still performing in someone else’s cage. 

Still being watched, measured, controlled. 

“I’m still some assignment to you,” I snap, crossing my arms. “Some bullet point in your little report home.” 

His jaw tenses, but his voice stays level. Infuriatingly level. “That’s not fair.” 

“Isn’t it?” I push off from the table because I need to mover 

Need to do something with this energy that’s burning through me. 

“Every minute we’ve spent together-every conversation, every joke, every moment I thought was real-it’s all been part of your job description.” 

His eyes narrow, and I can see cracks forming in that professional mask. “I never said that.” 

“You didn’t have to.” My voice is getting sharper now, cutting through the bullshit. “You’re good at this double-agent thing. Bodyguard one second, friend the next. Must be exhausting keeping track of which version of yourself you’re supposed to be.” 

His shoulders go rigid, and for the first time since this whole mess started, I see him falter. See something real underneath all that training. 

“I’m trying to help you.” 

I actually laugh at that. It comes out bitter and raw. “Right. By stalking me twenty-four seven? By filing reports about every stupid thing I do? By making sure I stay in my pretty little box?” 

“Leo-” 

“No, don’t.” I hold up a hand because I’m done with his explanations. “Don’t pretend this is about helping me. This is about your paycheck, your duty, your fucking surveillance reports.” 

He’s trying to stay calm, I can see it in the way he’s controlling his breathing, but I’m not done. The words have been building for weeks, and now they’re spilling out like blood from a wound. 

“I thought-God, I actually thought we were becoming something. Friends, maybe more.” My voice cracks and I hate myself for it. “But it’s all just performance art, isn’t it? All those moments where I thought you actually gave a damn about me-you were just doing your job.” 

“That’s not true,” he says quietly, but it sounds hollow. 

“Then prove it.” I grab my jacket because I need to get out of here before I say something I can’t take back. “Stop following me around. Stop watching every move I make. Stop pretending you care when we both know someone’s paying you to be here.” 

His jaw clenches, and I can see the war happening behind his eyes-duty versus whatever the hell this thing between us actually is. 

“I don’t need you following me around tonight,” I continue, my voice cold now. “Or if you do, keep your distance. I actually want to breathe without wondering if it’s going in your report.” 

For a moment, we just stare at each other. The apartment feels suffocating, filled with all the things we’re not saying, all the truths we can’t acknowledge. 

Finally, he nods. Sharp and military. “Fine.” 

The word hits like a door slamming shut. 

I don’t wait for anything else. I turn and walk out, leaving him standing there in his perfectly organized apartment, surrounded by the books we’d sorted together like we were something more than a prince and his keeper. 

Later that night, I’m sprawled on my bed pretending to study while Jake clicks away on his laptop. The silence is comfortable in a way that makes me realize how rare that is in my life. At least with Jake, there’s no hidden agenda, no secret files being compiled about my behavior. 

The quiet stretches until curiosity wins over brooding. 

“So… Elijah,” I start, trying to sound casual. 

Jake smirks without looking up. “Knew it. Everyone likes Elijah.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re saying I’ve got competition?” 

He finally closes his laptop and grins at me. “Not exactly. But heads up-he’s got a girlfriend.” 

My face drops. “Seriously?” 

“Yep, Total disaster, actually. Long-distance thing with some tennis player. Been dragging on since high school.” 

12:56 Mon, 11 Aug 

I process this, my brain already switching into strategy mode. “Define ‘total disaster.”” 

“Oh, where do I start?” Jake’s practically bouncing with gossip. “She’s apparently super controlling, hates that he has female friends, gets jealous if he mentions another girl’s name. Classic toxic relationship bullshit.” 

Now I’m interested. “And how does the family feel about this?” 

Jake leans in like he’s sharing state secrets. “Here’s the good part. Naomi-his sister- absolutely hates the girlfriend’s guts. Like, actively campaigns against her. I’ve seen her roll her eyes so hard when the girlfriend calls that I thought she might strain something.” 

“Interesting.” I’m already seeing the angles, the opportunities. 

“If you’re trying to get close to Elijah?” Jake continues, clearly reading my expression. “Your best bet is impressing Naomi first. Earn her loyalty, you’re in. She’s got major influence over her brother, and if she likes you…” 

I smile slowly, the first genuine smile I’ve managed since the fight with Gabriel. My mind is already racing, formulating plans, considering approaches. This is exactly what I need-a challenge, a distraction, something to focus on that isn’t the mess of my relationship with my bodyguard. 

“Challenge accepted,” I say quietly. 

Jake sits up straighter. “Oh no. I know that look. That’s your scheming face.” 

My smile widens. “I have no idea what you mean.” 

“Right. Just… try not to destroy anyone’s life in the process, okay? Some of us actually have to live with these people after you graduate.” 

But I’m already lost in thought, my mind spinning with possibilities. Naomi-poet, intellectual, apparently protective of her brother’s happiness. She’s going to be my next target, my way into Elijah’s orbit. And if it happens to distract me from thinking about Gabriel’s betrayal, well, that’s just a bonus. 

After all, I learned from the best how to play multiple angles at once. 

End of 

The Chapter 

Chapter 13 

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