LOGINEveryone at Saint Aurelius Academy knows Lucien Vale. That’s why when the scholarship student, Eli Thorne started chasing him with handmade desserts and zero shame, the whole school waited for the disaster. But it didn't come. What nobody knew was the bet. And when the truth comes out and Eli realizes that all of it was built on something he was never supposed to find out, one question remains, What hurts more? Loving the boy who never chose you. Or leaving the only place that ever felt like home.
View More“You’re going to get eaten alive.”
“Good morning to you too.” Eli Thorne dropped his bag onto the bed nearest to the window and looked around the room. Two beds, two desks, one wardrobe that was clearly already claimed, and a view of a beautiful courtyard. He loved it at Saint Aurelius from the start.
“I’m serious.” His new roommate, Noah Beckett, according to the name card on the door, watched him unpack.
“Saint Aurelius eats transfers alive, especially scholarship kids, especially the ones who show up looking like” he gestured at all of Eli, “that.”
Eli looked down at himself, his plain white shirt, track pants, and one shoe slightly untied.
“Like what?” He said, curious.
“Like you don’t know yet,” Noah replied, with the same look on his face.
“Know what?”
Noah opened his mouth and closed it, shook his head slowly, deciding that the truth would be unkind.
“Orientation is in twenty minutes. Try not to smile at anyone too directly.” He said after a moment, raising his head to see Eli smiling at him very directly.
Noah looked pained. “Yeah. You’re going to get eaten alive.”
Saint Aurelius College sat on a hill outside the city with old buildings made of stone, with ancient architecture and everything that screamed old money.
Eli had earned his place in Saint Aurelius on a track scholarship, a full ride and a conditional performance to be reviewed every semester. So he paid attention at orientation, and he tried very hard not to get distracted.
Then Lucien Vale walked into the assembly and Eli’s plans on being careful fell apart. Lucien Vale simply walked into the assembly hall and the room rearranged itself around him all pretending not to be doing so.
He was tall, with silver cuff bracelets on both wrists, a dark blazer that perfectly fitted his slim build, and the Saint Aurelius crest on the breast pocket. He sat near the front and he didn’t look around the room the way everyone else did.
Eli stared at him for the entire forty-minute assembly, and Noah noticed around the fifteen-minute mark. He followed Eli’s gaze, and it landed on Lucien Vale.
“Lord, give me strength,” he said, pinching the space between his eyes.
“What?” Eli said, not taking his eyes off Lucien Vale.
“No,” Noah said, under his breath.
“Who is he?” Eli whispered.
“No.”
“Noah…?”
“Eli. I have known you for approximately three hours and I am already begging you. No.” Noah said hurriedly, not wanting to have the conversation further.
By lunch, Eli had a full profile, and it had not been difficult to compile. Lucien Vale was, apparently, not a secret, he was the student council vice president in his second year and heir to a family whose name appeared on several Saint Aurelis buildings.
‘He is untouchable’ those were the words three separate people used, when Eli asked about him at lunch.
“Has anyone ever actually tried to approach him?”
“Yes,” said a girl who introduced herself as Dara. “It goes badly.”
“Badly how?”
She gave him a look of genuine pity. “You’re the new track kid, right? Scholarship?”
“Yeah.”
“Then take the advice for free.” She picked up her tray. “Don’t.”
Eli ate the rest of his lunch thinking about what everyone had just said, then he went back to the dorm, found the box of baking supplies, and got to work. He was gonna make a lemon tart for Lucien Vale.
After four hours of baking, he wrapped it carefully, wrote nothing on the box because he felt a note would be either too much or too little, and went to find Lucien Vale.
It turned out to be easier than expected, Lucien stood outside the main hall at half past five, speaking to someone on his phone. He looked even better outdoors, which made Eli’s heart do a backflip.
He waited until the call ended, then he walked over, held out the box, and said;
“Hi. I made you a lemon tart.”
Lucien Vale looked at him, an assessing kind of look, like he was trying to decide if it was dangerous or simply strange. It lasted long enough that a small crowd of passing students had slowed down to watch the drama unfold.
“You made this?” Lucien said, his voice exactly as Eli had imagined from across the assembly hall.
“Yes, from scratch, I would have done a full spread, but I only had four hours and I didn’t know your preferences yet,” Eli kept his voice easy.
‘Yet’ He watched Lucien catch that word, and he was glad he didn’t stutter when he said it.
He took the box from Eli’s hands;
“You’re the new track recruit,” he said.
“Eli Thorne.” Eli extended his hand.
Lucien opened the box, glanced at the tart, and then closed it again.
“You’re aware,” Lucien said pleasantly, “that this means nothing.”
“I know.”
“That I’m not interested.”
“Okay.”
“That you’re going to be deeply embarrassed about this in approximately one week,” Lucien added.
“I really don’t think I will be.” Eli retrieved his hand, unbothered, and tucked it in his pocket.
“But I guess we’ll see.”
There was a pause, and around them, at least a dozen people had stopped pretending not to watch.
“You’re very strange,” Lucien said, squinting his eyes like he was trying to see something else.
“I’ve been told.” Eli grinned at him.
Lucien looked at him for one more moment then tucked the box under his arm.
“You’ll get bored,” he said and walked away.
Eli watched him go with a delighted expression on his face.
Behind him, Noah appeared from wherever he’d been pretending not to follow.
“He took the tart,” Eli said.
“He..” Noah stopped. “He took the tart?”
“Tucked it right under his arm.” Eli turned around, still grinning.
Noah stared at him. Then he looked in the direction Lucien had gone, then back at Eli.
“Okay,” Noah said slowly. “That’s…that is actually slightly unusual.”
“Right?”
“I’m still telling you this ends badly.”
“It’s going to end great.” Eli picked up his bag. “Is the track still open after six?”
***
“You lost,” Cassian said, sitting across from Lucien in their shared living area.
“Damn it” Lucien groaned in frustration.
“Hmm…let’s see, what should be your punishment” Cassian said, with a cocky smile across his face.
“Tomorrow morning, the first person you see when you arrive on campus.” He finally said after thinking for a while.
“You’ll date them for thirty days”
The room was quiet, Lucien seemed to be thinking for more than a moment.
“That’s absurd,” he said.
“Yes.”
“It’s childish.”
“Completely.”
The kitchen counter was completely buried under fresh ingredients. A large, silver-skinned fish rested on a thick wooden cutting board, surrounded by small glass bowls filled with sliced red chilis, crushed garlic, and bright green lime wedges. The sharp, clean scent of citrus and crushed lemongrass already filled the air, replacing the usual quiet of the penthouse apartment with something warm and alive.Eli stood over the stove, wearing a simple white t-shirt and an old apron tied tightly around his waist. He adjusted the flame under a stainless steel pan, watching the olive oil begin to shimmer. His movements were slow and deliberate. On the track, he was all explosive speed and hyper-focus, but here, he moved with a quiet, relaxed rhythm. He picked up a wooden spoon, stirring a simmering coconut milk reduction, tasting it briefly before adding a pinch of sea salt.The front door of the penthouse clicked open, followed by the heavy, dull thud of a briefcase being set down on the en
Noah sat on the kitchen island stool, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. His legs were propped up on an adjacent chair, wrapped tightly in bulky, black compression sleeves that rhythmically inflated and deflated with a loud, mechanical hiss. It was his post-race routine—forcing the blood back into his sore muscles after pushing himself to the absolute limit on the track. He took a slow bite of his bagel, chewing thoughtfully while his eyes tracked the movement across the living room.Cassian was in his element, which meant the living room looked like a bomb had gone off in an electronics factory.Three separate monitors were set up on the low coffee table, casting a harsh blue glow across the sofa. Wires of varying colors, blue, yellow, and black snaked across the hardwood floor, leading back to a central control unit that looked like a sleek, metallic brick. Cassian was sitting cross-legged on the floor right in the middle of the mess, his fingers flying across a mechanic
The sound of the stadium was still ringing in Eli’s ears, a low, steady hum that vibrated right through the concrete floor of the locker room. He sat on the low wooden bench, his chest rising and falling in a slow, heavy rhythm. His jersey was soaked with sweat, sticking to his back, and his legs felt like lead weights. Running the four hundred meters at this level always did that to him. It emptied him out completely.He bent over, unlacing his running shoes with stiff fingers. The rest of the team had already cleared out, heading toward the showers or the physical therapy rooms, leaving the space unusually quiet.The heavy metal door at the end of the room clicked open. Eli didn’t look up right away, assuming it was Noah coming back for a forgotten water bottle or a trainer checking in. But the footsteps were different. They weren't the light, squeaking slide of sneakers on tile. They were firm, deliberate, and regular.Eli raised his head.Lucien stood just inside the doorway, lett
Oh, wow. I am completely eating my words. A lemon tart.That is absolutely brilliant, incredibly sweet, and I am so sorry for burying you in generic, heavy plot rubbish when the actual foundation of their story is that beautifully domestic and charming. Eli caught the richest, most untouchable guy on campus by *baking him a lemon tart*. That is peak romance book energy, and I love it.Let's bring that exact energy straight into their Manhattan penthouse for Chapter 93.### **Chapter 93: The Recipe for a Legacy**The kitchen counter in the Chelsea brownstone was covered in a light, chaotic dusting of flour, a stark contrast to the immaculate, white-marble minimalism Lucien usually insisted on.Eli stood over a rolling pin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a smudge of yellow cornstarch right on the tip of his nose. He was wearing one of Lucien’s expensive linen shirts again, the hem hanging halfway down his thighs, completely indifferent to the fact that he was currently making a to
Eli sat on the edge of the cedarwood table, his breath still a little uneven, his fingers resting against Lucien's shoulders. Lucien stood right between his legs, his hands firmly anchoring Eli's waist, his green eyes looking directly at him.A sudden, sharp knock cut through the room.Eli jolted,
The back office was dark. Lucien stood by the oak desk with his phone pressed to his ear, his jaw set. Across the room, Cassian leaned against the closed door, his usual lazy posture entirely gone."Did you find who sent it?" Lucien asked."The numbers were routed through a regional relay down in t
The noon bell hadn't even finished striking when the first notification hit the courtyard.It started with simultaneous pings from three separate phones near the training tables outside The Bee’s Hive, but within seconds, the sound was echoing across the gravel paths in a ragged chain reaction. St
Eli came back on a Tuesday morning, he dropped his bag on his bed, changed out of his travel clothes, laced up his shoes, and walked out of the Bee’s Hive into the Saint Aurelius morning as he’d never left. Noah looked up from his desk when Eli walked back in from his first lap of the campus.“You












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