Chapter 1 The Day She Died

The day Elara Kensington lost her battle with HIV just so happened to be the day Asher Blackwood tied the knot.

She sluggishly opened Twitter, and the first thing to pop up was a headline: [Asher Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Group, marries his long-time love, Daphne Wagner, after fifteen years together.]

At that moment, Elara was lying alone in a dark, damp room she rented in a run-down building on the outskirts of town.

The place was a dump—barely two hundred square feet—with peeling paint, mold crawling up the walls, and a heavy, choking stench of mildew hanging in the air.

Her whole life had gone to shit. She was battling the disease, flat broke, and no one would give her a job. She scraped by, collecting plastic bottles and cardboard just to survive.

But even in her despair, she forced herself to dial Asher's number, her fingers trembling like a leaf.

"Hello?" Daphne's voice crackled through the line, cautious but cold as ice.

Elara took a shaky breath. "Daphne, it's me. Can I talk to Asher? I... I need to borrow some money."

Since her AIDS diagnosis, her immune system had crashed, leaving her trapped in a revolving door of hospital visits. Without cash for proper treatment, the relentless pain was pure hell.

She was only thirty-one, but she looked like she'd aged ten years—worn down, beaten by life.

Daphne's voice turned sharp, almost cutting. "Again? Are you fucking serious, Elara? Haven't you already taken enough?"

"I'm sick, Daphne. I need money for the hospital," Elara pleaded, her voice barely holding together.

"And why the hell is that our problem? You screwed up your own life. What's any of that got to do with us?" Daphne shot back, her tone dripping with scorn. "Does Asher owe you something?"

"I didn't screw up! I swear I didn't," Elara cried, her voice trembling. "Daphne, please. I know he loves you. I promise, this is the last time I'll ask. I just... I'm desperate here. I can't take it anymore..."

Regret clawed at her as memories flooded back. If she hadn't been so eager to please Asher, if she hadn't handed over her father's company just to secure a future together, she wouldn't be in this mess now.

Daphne let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Oh, come on. Asher's already given you more than enough over the years. What, you think he's supposed to bankroll you forever? Grow the fuck up, Elara."

Tears stung Elara's eyes. "He's only given me a few thousand—pocket change compared to what I used to give him every month. I built the damn company he's got now. When he met me, he had nothing! His dad was our family's driver, for fuck's sake! I kept him afloat!"

Asher's voice suddenly cut through the line, dripping with sarcasm. "Elara, your dad's been dead for years. You still living in that little fantasy world of yours? You were a mess back then—couldn't keep up in school for shit.

"Who do you think dragged your sorry ass through? Yeah, me. That money you keep bringing up? It was for those damn tutoring sessions. And guess what? No amount of tutoring was ever gonna fix that thick head of yours."

His cold words sliced through Elara's mind like a razor, forcing her to face the brutal reality of her own naivety.

Back then, she'd seen him dirt poor and thought she was doing him a favor. She even turned down the Ivy League tutor her father had lined up, insisting on Asher instead.

From the moment Asher started tutoring her, he made it clear he thought she was a joke, tearing her down every chance he got. He'd call her dumb as a brick, say no matter how hard he tried, she'd never learn a damn thing.

Looking back now, all she could think was, 'What the hell was I smoking? I could've had anyone. Why the fuck did I choose him?'

Desperation seeped into her voice as she muttered, "What about my dad's company? You promised me—if I signed it over to you, you'd marry me. Now you're marrying someone else... I just want some of the money back."

She'd given up on the idea of marriage a long time ago. All she wanted now was to get by.

Asher's bitter laugh echoed through the phone, sharp and mocking. "The company? Don't make me laugh. If it weren't for me, you would've run it into the ground ages ago!

"And marriage? Are you seriously that clueless? You really think I'd marry you after you tested positive for HIV right before the wedding?"

HIV—he never missed a chance to throw that in her face. Elara's heart cracked under the weight of his words. 'How did my life end up such a goddamn mess?' she thought bitterly.

If only she hadn't signed over the company to him. She could've sold it, lived comfortably, had a shot at a normal life. But now, it was way too late. The damage was done, and there was no turning back.

Lying in bed, her strength slipping away, she forced out a whisper. "Asher... I just need to know... did you ever care about me? Even just a little?"

His reply was cold and ruthless, smashing the last bit of hope she clung to. "Care about you? Are you fucking kidding me? Elara, even asking that question is an insult to my intelligence. You've been nothing but dead weight, a goddamn pain in my ass."

Her voice shook as she made one last desperate plea. "I'm dying. Could you just... come see me one last time?"

His reply dripped with contempt. "No! You're not fucking worth it. I wouldn't even bother showing up to collect your corpse." He hung up without a shred of remorse.

Elara's world went dark, shadows swallowing her whole. She had no idea how long had passed when her phone's ring cut through the silence.

On the other end, Daphne's voice came through. "You still breathing?"

Elara blinked through her swollen, tear-streaked eyes, a faint glimmer of hope sparking to life. 'Could Asher be feeling guilty? Is he trying to make things right?' she thought, clinging to the idea.

"Did Asher put you up to this?" she rasped, barely managing a whisper.

Daphne's laugh was sharp, dripping with mockery. "Oh, fuck no. This was all my idea."

Now the Vice President of Blackwood Group, Daphne's voice carried that same old smugness. "I couldn't sit around watching you debase yourself any longer, Elara. Are you seriously still pining for Asher? Are you that fucking dense? He never gave a damn about you."

Elara's voice cracked. "I know... To him, it's always been you."

Daphne let out a vicious, mocking laugh. "Ever wonder how you ended up with HIV?"

Elara froze, her heart missing a beat. "What... what the hell are you talking about? What do you know?"

Daphne's voice was poison. "Don't play dumb. He didn't want to marry you, so he had someone jab you with an HIV-infected needle. Made it easier to ditch you without a speck of guilt. And you're still so goddamn clueless. It's pathetic. Like I told you before, you're a fucking idiot."

Before Elara could react, the call cut off abruptly.

She stared blankly at her beaten-up phone as it slipped from her trembling hand, landing with a dull thud on the damp floor.

The memories of the past few years surged through her mind. She had poured everything into loving Asher, only to learn in the end that his heart had always been made of ice.

*****

Elara's last clear memory was in the hospital room.

A guy in a military uniform had brought her in. During those bleak, agonizing days, his rare act of kindness was the only warmth she had.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Why are you helping me?"

Without him, she would've probably died alone in that crappy apartment.

His gaze was steady, sincere. "General Lysander Hawthorne sent me. He's on his way."

Just hearing Lysander's name dug up memories she hadn't touched in years—the man who once tried to help her break free from Brookfield. The fiancé her father had handpicked for her.

But back then, her heart was with Asher. She'd turned Lysander down without a second thought, spitting out words she'd come to regret.

Now, thinking about him, all she felt was the heavy, choking weight of her own mistakes.

"How... how's he been all these years?" she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

The man's response was blunt, "He's been wrapped up in military stuff, still single. Said... you're still his fiancée."

But Elara never got to see Asher's wedding day. Her memories would forever be trapped in those final moments, just before midnight.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in high school—senior year. Her head rested on her desk, half-asleep, when Asher gave her a nudge.

"Daphne's on her period and feels like shit. Get her some ibuprofen, will ya? And grab her extra meat at lunch. She's way too damn skinny; needs to put on some weight," he said, sounding half-annoyed but mostly worried.

Chapter 2 Loyal Simp

Daphne was sprawled out on the table, looking half-dead, while a bunch of people hovered around her, trying to pamper her.

She looked worn out, clearly uncomfortable, but no one seemed more on edge than Asher.

Asher was supposed to be Daphne's boyfriend, but he kept insisting to everyone that they were "just friends."

Still, their names always popped up together at the top of every exam ranking. Asher was cold and distant with most people, but when it came to Daphne, he had this weird, protective streak.

To everyone else, they looked like they just fit—both smart, both successful. They seemed perfect together.

But there was a third wheel in this mess: Elara. She was always there, lurking in the background, tailing Asher like some lovesick puppy. She'd sleepwalk through classes, but as soon as they ended, she'd be the first to grab Asher whatever he needed—coffee, snacks, whatever.

And right now, Asher was doing it again. "Go grab some painkillers for Daphne," he barked, not even glancing her way.

Elara finally grasped that she had time-traveled, and she couldn't help but find the whole thing darkly amusing.

She stood there, a chaotic mess of emotions churning inside her. 'What the fuck did I do to end up in this shitstorm? Playing the clueless idiot in this pathetic excuse for a freak show?' she fumed, the bitterness biting hard.

She thought back to all those times she'd run herself ragged for Asher, thinking it meant something, like it made her special to him. He didn't order anyone else around like this—just her.

But after everything she'd been through, after facing down life and death, Elara finally saw Asher's bullshit for what it was—plain and simple.

'Who the fuck do you think you are, Asher?' she thought, feeling something snap inside her.

When she didn't jump to it right away, Asher snapped, "What the hell are you standing around for? Go! And hurry the fuck up!" He didn't wait for a response, turning back to Daphne, patting her back with this infuriating gentleness.

Daphne glanced at Elara, then looked at Asher and said, "Isn't it a bit much to send her alone? I can go myself."

"There's no need." Asher waved her off, completely sure of himself. "She doesn't mind. Do you, Elara?" He shot her a look.

In the past, Elara would've forced a smile, eager to please him, afraid of pissing him off. Anytime they argued, she was always the one to apologize first, desperate to fix things.

But now, seeing the smug look on Asher's face, something inside her cracked open. A small, defiant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth—something she hadn't felt in years.

In the school's plain cafeteria, the food was like gold—scarce and sparking fierce competition among students.

Whenever the lunch bell rang, grabbing a taste of those mouthwatering dishes felt like a race against time. A second's hesitation could mean losing out on the good stuff.

Back then, Elara was always the first to sprint into the cafeteria, grabbing two meals without a second thought—one for herself and the other for Asher.

Asher, the school's golden boy, spent every spare minute buried in his books, a sharp contrast to Elara, who often joked that her efforts would still land her in the average zone.

Day after day, she stood in line, buying his food and looking out for him like he was the sun in her universe. Her devotion quickly became the talk of the school, and soon enough, people started calling her Asher's "loyal simp."

Things took a turn when Asher started getting close to Daphne, making Elara's two-meal routine feel downright awkward.

Asher didn't think twice about handing his portion over to Daphne, while Elara, feeling like a complete idiot, would silently offer hers too—choosing hunger over embarrassment.

Now, as she picked up their meals, a classmate sneered, "Well, look who it is—the loyal lapdog fetching food for the young master again. But let's be real: your prince has his eyes on someone like Daphne. You don't stand a fucking chance."

Elara raised an eyebrow. "What the hell do you mean I don't stand a chance?"

"Seriously? Just the maid's daughter, clinging to the prince, dreaming of being a princess. Wake the hell up! You'll end up washing his clothes and changing his kid's diapers!"

Elara's heart sank, but she kept her cool. "Did Asher tell you I'm the maid's daughter?"

In reality, her dad was the richest guy in Brookfield, and Asher? Just the chauffeur's kid. She let him use her family's car because she liked him.

'So now everyone sees Asher as the 'prince' and I'm just the maid's kid?' she thought, disbelief swirling in her mind.

The student rolled their eyes. "What else could it be? Now hurry up and deliver the lunch to your prince," they laughed, their mockery ringing in her ears.

As she walked out of the cafeteria, the laughter followed her, a chorus of scorn at her affection and guts for pursuing someone like Asher.

Instead of heading back to class, Elara found a quiet spot by the flowerbed. Sitting down, she dug into both burgers.

It felt like ages since she'd enjoyed a meal in peace. Usually, she was scraping by, picking up leftover veggies from the market. Meat was a rare treat.

The cafeteria burgers were small but surprisingly tasty. It wasn't until she polished off both that the gnawing hunger finally eased a bit.

By the time she stepped into the classroom, the bell had already rung, loud and urgent.

Asher glared at her, anger flaring in his eyes. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. Why are you only getting here now? Where's the damn medicine?"

"What medicine?" Elara shot back, her tone icy—so different from the warmth she used to offer him.

There was a time when she'd do anything for him, giving him all of her love while he gave her nothing in return.

She'd foolishly believed that if she tried hard enough, loved him enough, he'd eventually come around. But now, with fresh eyes, she saw the truth—she'd been living a lie.

She'd learned that when she gave Asher everything, he didn't just take it for granted. No, he started thinking they deserved it. He convinced himself his shine was all thanks to everyone else's endless admiration. And he'd never truly appreciate what she did for him—until she finally stopped.

Asher's frustration spiked. "I told you to get ibuprofen for Daphne! She's feeling like shit, and you can't even handle that?"

She snapped, "Why the hell should I buy her medicine? What's she got to do with me?"

Elara glanced at Daphne, sitting at her desk looking pale and delicate. 'She's on her period,' Elara thought bitterly. 'And I'm supposed to go fetch her meds? What am I, her fucking maid?'

Daphne came from an ordinary background, but ever since she hooked up with Asher, her life had done a complete 180. He treated her like a queen, even handing over gifts that Elara had bought him.

To everyone else, Daphne seemed like this spoiled, perfect girl, but what they didn't know was that Asher and Daphne were living off Elara's money and generosity, while treating her like she didn't matter.

"Keep this attitude up, Elara," Asher snapped. "And don't be surprised if I start ignoring you. You'll be begging me to forgive you."

Elara looked him straight in the eyes, completely unfazed. "Forgive me? For what? What exactly did I do wrong?"

Their confrontation had caught the attention of the class. Everyone was staring, shocked. This was the same Elara who used to bend over backwards for Asher, and now she was standing up to him.

For a moment, Asher was thrown off, remembering how she used to plead with him. His expression darkened. "Keep pushing, and don't even think about coming home with us after school."

Before Elara's time travel, whenever he got mad and gave her the cold shoulder, she'd always come crawling back, apologizing within hours. But now, her defiance was something new, and it rattled him.

'This time,' he thought, 'even if she begs, I won't make it easy for her.'

Chapter 3 Not Getting In My Car

Elara gave a quick, firm nod. "Fine, I'm not going." With that, she walked straight to her seat, like Asher's request hadn't even registered. She brushed it off like it was nothing.

Lizzie Collins, Daphne's seatmate, couldn't hold back any longer. She stood up, ready to defend her friend. "What the hell, Elara? It's just a quick trip to grab some medicine. You seriously can't manage that?"

Her tone was sharp, frustration boiling over. She added with a sneer, "If it's so easy, why don't you go now? Aren't you supposed to be friends with Daphne?"

Elara didn't flinch, just gave her a cold, indifferent look without saying a word.

But Lizzie wasn't done. She pressed on, confidence growing. "This is your problem, not mine! Why the hell should I do it?"

"My problem?" Elara's lips curled into a faint, sarcastic smile. "And why exactly is that? We're not related. Why should I be the one buying her medicine?"

She scoffed inwardly, remembering how back in her world, no one had ever given a damn about her when she was sick.

Lizzie jabbed a finger at Elara. "You work for Asher's family, not me! Isn't it your job to take care of his girlfriend?"

Elara's gaze shifted to Asher, her tone icy. "Asher, are you telling people I'm some kind of servant at your house?"

Asher shifted uncomfortably under her sharp stare. The rumors had been around for a while—people saw him getting driven around in fancy cars every day, and he'd never bothered to correct them.

It was easier to let them believe the lie than admit his dad was just a driver and he was nothing more than the driver's son in Elara's household.

Worried this was about to spiral out of control, Asher quickly stepped in, trying to calm things down. He leaned toward Elara and muttered, "It's fine, Elara. If you didn't buy it, I'll take care of it later."

He knew her well enough to understand why she didn't want to run errands for Daphne. Elara was fiercely independent, and asking her to do something like this wasn't going to fly.

Trying to shift the conversation, Asher gave her a casual look. "Did you at least grab the food?"

He'd heard from classmates that she'd picked up two meals earlier. He figured if he gave one to Daphne, that would smooth things over. Besides, he doubted Elara would let him go hungry just to make a point.

Elara Kensington replied calmly, "I've already eaten them."

"What? You ate both portions?" Asher's voice was full of disbelief.

Elara just gave a slight nod. "Yeah."

Hearing this, the students in the front row glared at her in disgust. "What the hell? You really ate both? What are you, a pig?"

These were Asher's usual gang, and they never liked her. Before her time travel, Elara always tried to keep the peace since they were Asher's friends. She didn't want to piss off anyone close to him, hoping they might say something nice about her one day.

But now she realized she'd been playing it way too safe. In fact, every time Asher treated his friends to a meal, it was on her dime.

Completely unfazed, Elara shot back, "It's my money. Whether I eat two portions or twenty, that's none of your damn business."

The front row students looked pissed, whispering to each other, "Her money? Who's she kidding? Isn't she living off Asher's family?"

Elara couldn't care less about their gossip, but Asher was already fuming. Seeing her sitting there, not giving a damn about leaving him hungry, was just adding fuel to the fire.

"Elara Kensington, you're just doing this to piss me off. Let's see how long you can keep this up," he said, his voice tight with anger.

Without waiting for her response, he stood up abruptly, grabbed his stuff, and turned to Lizzie, who was sitting next to Daphne. "We're switching seats. You sit with her."

This was Asher's go-to move when he was mad—refusing to sit with her. And of course, that seat was one she'd begged him to take, supposedly so he could help her study.

But looking back, Elara realized he never actually tutored her. It was always about making her do his dirty work.

He thought keeping her distance would keep her under control, but Elara seemed to give a damn.

Now, with his stomach growling and Daphne looking sick next to him, Asher's mood darkened even more. He glanced over at Elara, sitting by the window like she didn't have a care in the world.

'This time,' he thought, 'when she comes crawling back to apologize, she's gonna pay for it.'

*****

The Maybach that had come to pick up Elara glided smoothly to the school gate just as classes let out. As soon as she stepped outside, she spotted Asher and Daphne already lounging inside, looking smug as hell.

Elara picked up her pace, heading straight for the car.

It felt like the entire school was watching. Everyone knew she had crossed Asher, and they were practically holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen.

As she walked, the whispers and sneers started around her.

"I thought she cut Asher off for good!"

"She's such a suck-up. People like her never change."

"Asher's way too soft. If it were me, I'd have kicked a servant's daughter like her to the curb ages ago!"

Elara ignored the cutting remarks, keeping her head high and forcing a smile as she approached.

She glanced at the two "shameless" people in the car, about to say something, but Asher spoke first. "Didn't you say you weren't coming home with me?"

For a moment, Elara was dumbfounded, thinking, 'I've seen shameless, but this guy takes the fucking crown.'

She took a deep breath, then fired back, "I said I wasn't going home with you. I never said you could take my family's car!"

Asher paused, realization hitting him—yeah, the car did belong to Elara's family.

Seeing her clearly pissed-off expression, he was honestly confused. 'What the hell is her problem today? She is the one who let him use the car, and now she is flipping out?' he wondered.

Jefferson Blackwood, the driver, quickly jumped in to defuse the situation. "Elara, just get in the car! Why are you getting mad at Mr. Blackwood?" He shot Asher a glance, clearly telling him to dial it back.

Asher, pretending to be generous, said, "Alright, fine. Get in. I'll let it slide this time. I'm giving you another chance."

Used to her normally obedient attitude, he figured it wasn't worth the fight this time.

Elara almost laughed out loud in disbelief. "Asher, why the hell would I need another chance from you? Get your girlfriend and get the hell out of my car!"

'Another chance? Are you fucking kidding me?' she thought, barely containing her rage. And what made it worse was Jefferson calling him "Mr. Blackwood" while treating her like she was nothing more than a maid.

The students standing nearby were stunned, whispering to each other.

"Did Elara just talk back to Asher? Seriously?"

"Right? Asher's been more than generous with her, and she's still acting like this?"

"Asher should just dump her ass. This is getting embarrassing."

Nobody could figure out what had gotten into Elara that day, but one thing was clear—she wasn't playing along with anyone's bullshit anymore.

Asher's face darkened. "Do you really have to be so damn stubborn? I've already decided to let go of what happened earlier and forgive you. Elara, are you seriously tryna turn this into a bigger deal?"

Elara snapped back, her tone unwavering, "From now on, you're not getting in my car. Ever."

Chapter 4 Look So Innocent

Asher's face froze when he heard Elara's words. He wasn't about to argue anymore.

"If that's how you feel, fine. Walk your ass home," he said, completely unfazed, not a shred of guilt in his voice. Then he turned to his father. "Drive."

Jefferson glanced at Elara, then at Asher, remembering how Elara usually was with his son. 'No matter how ugly it gets, they'll make up in a couple of days. She's always easygoing,' he figured.

With that in mind, Jefferson shrugged off Elara's dramatic reaction, started the car, and drove away.

Elara stood there, stunned by Asher's nerve. 'Fucking assholes!' she fumed inwardly.

People nearby snickered at the scene. "Serves her right. She was acting like a total bitch," they whispered, amused by her situation.

To everyone's surprise, Elara laughed too—though it was a bitter, angry laugh. She fished out a phone—Asher's ancient, clunky Nokia.

She'd actually traded her brand-new Apple 3, a birthday gift, for this piece of junk, all to spare his damn pride. The thought felt absurd now.

Still, she used the phone to call her father. A few minutes later, the same Maybach that had just left rolled back to the entrance.

Jefferson stepped out, his face stormy. It was clear he'd been chewed out. "Miss Kensington," he said, his voice stiff, forced.

Elara didn't miss a beat. "You really screwed up this time, didn't you?" she said coldly.

Jefferson threw a quick glance toward the car, where Asher was helping Daphne out.

Daphne, looking totally caught off guard, glanced nervously at Elara. "Elara, I know you don't like me, but there's no need to take it out on Asher. He's always been good to you," she said, trying to sound reasonable but clearly rattled.

Asher cut her off sharply. "Don't. Say. A word to her," he snapped, making it clear that Elara had gone too far for his liking.

Elara didn't bother responding to either of them. Instead, she slid into the back seat, rolling down the window just before they drove off. She looked at Asher one last time, her smile calm, but full of finality. "Goodbye."

As they pulled away from the school, Jefferson stole a glance at Elara through the rearview mirror.

Her icy calm caught him off guard, and he felt compelled to say something. "Miss Kensington, couples fight all the time. Don't take it to heart. Asher will apologize later. But without a ride, that poor guy might have to take the bus. Who knows how long he'll be stuck out there."

Elara's gaze turned icy, her voice sharp. "If everyone else can take the bus, why the hell can't he? Or did you forget who signs your paycheck? If you've got a problem with me, feel free to quit instead of lecturing me."

Her thoughts churned in anger, 'Just because he's Asher's dad, he thinks he can talk to me like this? If I hadn't called my dad, they would've just fucking left me here.'

Jefferson quickly fell silent, realizing he had overstepped.

*****

When Elara walked in, the maid, Ursa Fowler stared at her, shocked. "Miss Kensington, why are you back alone? Where's Mr. Blackwood?"

Elara's tone was ice-cold. "There's Mr. Blackwood in this house anymore."

Ursa froze, completely caught off guard. 'When the hell did Miss Kensington get this sharp?' she wondered.

For years, Elara had bent over backward for Asher, practically worshiping the ground he walked on. Even Asher and Jefferson had started acting like they owned her.

Ursa had bitten her tongue, knowing any complaints would only piss Elara off. But hearing her say this now, Ursa didn't know what to feel.

Elara glanced at her. She knew Ursa was the most loyal, kind-hearted of the staff. Still, because Ursa had always been caught up in Asher's drama, Elara had felt nothing but resentment toward her.

Then, when Asher took over the family business, Ursa had been the first to get fired.

As all these memories came flooding back, and seeing Ursa standing here now, Elara's eyes stung with unshed tears.

Quietly, she said, "I'm going upstairs for a bit."

Ursa nodded. "Alright. Oh, and Mr. Hawthorne stopped by earlier. I'll let him know you're not seeing visitors."

Lysander had always been around, but that was her father's doing. Elara had always been head over heels for Asher, so she couldn't stand Lysander and made sure he knew it.

Every time he visited, she'd refuse to meet him, having someone else send him away. The two of them had barely exchanged words over the years.

But now, thinking back, it was Lysander's men who had rushed her to the hospital. And even after everything that happened, he still considered her his fiancée. That thought alone stirred up emotions she wasn't prepared for.

Before Ursa could leave, Elara called out, "Wait. Where is he? I want to see him."

"He's in the backyard, playing with Cotton," Ursa replied.

Elara wasted no time heading out back. When she got there, she saw Lysander kneeling, hand-feeding Cotton—the dog she had wanted for so long but kept her distance from because Asher hated pets.

Watching Lysander now, so at ease with the dog, a wave of surprise and comfort washed over her.

He was in his usual navy school uniform, nothing special. But on him, it looked good. Elara couldn't help but wonder how he managed to make even something so simple look this impressive.

She thought about the rumors she'd heard before her "death"—how someone as successful as Lysander had stayed single all these years. The idea hit her hard, and before she knew it, her eyes were filling with tears.

After finishing up with Cotton, Lysander finally noticed her standing there. He looked like he wanted to come over but hesitated, probably remembering how cold she had been to him before.

Instead, he just greeted her softly, "Miss Kensington."

Lysander was undeniably handsome, but it wasn't just his looks. It was his calm, grounded presence that really stood out. He was the same age as her, yet carried himself with a maturity that made him seem years older.

By the time she had "died," Lysander had already risen to the rank of four-star general. His success was practically legendary, and it had always been a thorn in Asher's side. Asher had spent years resenting Lysander, always overshadowed by his accomplishments.

Asher always talked shit about how Lysander's success was just because of his silver-spoon upbringing and all those fancy schools. He was sure that if he'd had the same advantages, he'd be just as good—hell, probably better.

So, every time Asher saw Lysander hitting new highs, it pissed him off for no real reason, and before long, Elara found herself looking at Lysander as some kind of rival, too.

But if she really thought about it, she had no beef with him—Lysander had never done a thing to her.

Now, with Lysander standing right in front of her, Elara swallowed her emotions and asked, trying to sound chill, "What do you want?"

Lysander gave her a small smile. "Just wanted to see how you're doing."

When Elara didn't respond, he added quickly, "Look, I know you don't wanna see me. I'll leave you alone."

In truth, he hadn't expected to run into her. He was just there to visit Cotton, and the fact that she'd even let him inside was already more than he'd hoped for.

As Lysander turned to leave, Elara suddenly called out, "You wanna stay for dinner?"

He paused, caught off guard, and turned to look at her. "Wait, really?"

The evening sun was casting a soft glow on her, making her look a little more approachable than usual. She gave him a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Meanwhile, Asher was still out, driving Daphne home, nowhere close to being back yet. Normally, Elara would've waited for him to have dinner, but today, she'd already asked Ursa to start prepping early.

Ursa gave her a puzzled look. "Not waiting for Asher?"

Elara's voice was cool, almost dismissive. "Why the hell should I?"

The staff were used to her bending over backward to cater to Asher, so her sudden change in attitude left them a little stunned.

Ursa didn't push the matter, though. "Alright, I'll get things ready."

"Oh, and one more thing," Elara said, stopping her again. "Tell Jefferson he doesn't need to come tomorrow."

Ursa blinked, a bit taken aback, but she quickly got the message and didn't press further. "Got it."

*****

After sending Jefferson packing, Elara finally sat down in the dining room.

Lysander, who had been sneaking glances at her the whole time, suddenly felt awkward and quickly averted his eyes when she took her seat.

Elara found it funny. 'Who would've thought Lysander could look so damn innocent right now?' she thought.

Chapter 5 You Are Nothing

A cheeky thought crossed her mind, and Elara couldn't resist teasing Lysander. "Why won't you look at me? Do I really look that bad?"

Her grades were never anything impressive, but she'd always been considered quite the looker.

Growing up in a sheltered environment, she was practically untouched by sunlight, giving her that perfect, porcelain-doll complexion. If it wasn't for Asher and his bullshit, she wouldn't even be in that mess before.

Lysander finally looked her way, his voice calm. "That's not it." He seemed composed, but if one looked close enough, one could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Elara's lips curled into a smirk. "I heard you're always top of the class. That true?"

Lysander shifted in his seat, feeling a little weird with how friendly she was being out of nowhere. "Uh... yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Know any good tutors you can recommend?" she asked.

She'd already decided not to rely on Asher anymore. She wasn't about to keep making the same mistakes—leaning on her dad and slacking off in school.

Now that she had the time, she was set on pulling her grades up. And if Lysander knew someone, they had to be good.

"A tutor? I thought Asher was..." Lysander trailed off. He'd heard she had a classmate tutor her, which was why Asher had spent so much time at her house.

"I let him go," she said flatly. Asher hadn't just looked down on her, he had zero patience when it came to tutoring. It was a waste of money.

Lysander raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. He studied her face, realizing she wasn't joking. To hide his unease, he took a sip of his drink before responding. "I never used a tutor. I've always studied on my own. But... if you're cool with it, I could stop by every day and help you out."

He wasn't expecting her to take him seriously. She barely even acknowledged him before tonight, and this dinner invite was already unexpected enough.

Elara's face lit up with genuine surprise. "Really?"

Lysander nodded quickly, caught off guard by how happy she looked. "Yeah, if it works for you, I'm available whenever."

Elara gave him a warm smile. "I'd really appreciate that, but are you sure it won't mess with your own stuff? You've got your own work to do."

Lysander waved her concern off. "Nah, don't worry about it. It won't be a problem."

Truth is, he'd already finished the high school curriculum and had a guaranteed spot at university. But to spare her feelings, he decided to keep that to himself.

"Wow, thank you so much!" Elara said, her eyes lighting up. "Just... don't think I'm dumb, okay? My grades suck." She sighed, thinking back to those awful tutoring sessions with Asher.

He might've had good grades, but he was a total asshole when it came to teaching her. If she didn't get something right away, he'd lose his temper. Her grades went from bad to worse, and with them, her confidence tanked.

Lysander's voice softened, reassuring. "I don't think that at all. I'll come by after school tomorrow. Sound good?"

As they ate and chatted, Lysander stayed mostly quiet, prompting Elara to pick up her fork and serve him some food. "Come on, don't be shy. Make yourself at home."

Just then, Asher stormed in after dropping off Daphne. He was already in a foul mood—he'd just found out his father had been fired and had gotten an earful from him on the way.

As he saw Elara sitting there, eating, with the dishes already touched, his expression turned stormy. "Elara!"

She gave him a cold glance and continued eating, completely unfazed.

Asher had come intending to ask about Jefferson, but seeing Lysander sitting there, his irritation only grew. "What the fuck is he doing here?" he demanded.

Before her time travel, Elara would have kept her distance from other guys to keep him happy. Whenever Lysander came around, she'd send him away. But now she'd actually let him stay for dinner.

Elara calmly put down her cutlery and met his glare. "He's my guest. You got a problem with that?"

Asher dropped into a chair, scowling. "What? You invite him just to get under my skin?"

Elara knew he didn't like Lysander—never had, because Lysander was always beating him in competitions. So Asher thought there was no way she suddenly enjoyed his company.

Lysander remained silent, not even bothering to react.

Elara held Asher's gaze, her voice steady. "You're overthinking it, Asher. You just don't mean that much to me anymore."

There was a time when she thought the world revolved around Asher, but now all she felt was disgust. Liking someone like him would only drag her down further into the dark.

Asher scoffed. "If you think hanging around other guys is gonna make me jealous, Elara, you're fucking clueless. Seeing you with someone else? Shit, that's a relief—I won't have to deal with your bullshit anymore." With that, he stormed upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

Elara sat there, momentarily speechless, caught off guard by his outburst.

After he left, she noticed Lysander's expression shift slightly. Feeling awkward, she quickly added, "Don't listen to his crap."

'He's really pissed about this?' she thought, a bit uncertain.

Lysander just gave a vague "sure" and stayed quiet.

After dinner, she walked him to the door. "Take care on your way home," she said.

"Yeah," he replied with a short nod and left without another word.

When Elara went back inside, she found Asher had come back downstairs, now wearing a short-sleeved shirt instead of his school uniform.

Even though she was furious with him, she couldn't deny that his face was still annoyingly handsome, with that effortless charm that had drawn her in once upon a time.

But this time, Asher wasn't playing around. His tone was serious as he asked, "Why did you fire my dad?"

He'd waited until they were alone to ask, not wanting anyone else to know he was just the driver's son, especially not Lysander.

Elara's response was icy. "Do I really need to explain why I fired my driver?"

"He's my dad," Asher shot back, clearly agitated. "I'm the one who told him to do it. It wasn't his fault. If you're pissed off, take it out on me—kick me out!"

"Kicking you out?" Elara's lips curled into a sly smile as she locked eyes with him. "Alright."

"What the hell did you just say?" Asher stared at her in shock.

Elara pressed on, "You've always thought I was a dumbass, haven't you? Fine then, let's just call it quits. Get your stuff and get out of my house. I'll find another tutor. Ever since you started 'teaching' me, my grades have gone down the drain. Honestly, you're not worth a damn cent I'm paying you."

Asher had assumed at first that Elara was just throwing another one of her fits. But when he saw the look on her face, it hit him—she was dead serious about firing him and cutting him loose as her tutor.

Annoyed, he snapped back, "Your grades are crap because you can't keep up, not because of me! I explain something once to Daphne, and she gets it right away. But you? You're as slow as a goddamn rock! How is that on me? Go ahead, get another tutor, but nothing's gonna change."

"That's my issue, not yours!" Elara shot back, her frustration rising. "Just get the fuck out!"

Frowning, Asher countered, "Elara, you're still a student. Maybe you should focus on school for once? You're always obsessing over dating me—that's why your grades are tanking."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Elara blurted, utterly baffled.

With a mocking laugh, Asher pressed further, "You're throwing this tantrum because you're jealous of Daphne, aren't you? Admit it—you're pissed because I won't date you! But here's the thing: I'm focusing on getting into a good college. I'm not like you, who can just coast through life without worrying about money or your future. So yeah, there's no way I'm getting with you."

Elara stared at him in disbelief. It took her a second to process what he'd just said before she exploded, "Who the hell said I wanted to be with you? Asher, where the fuck do you get off thinking I'd ever be interested in you?"

To her, he was nothing—someone she could just brush off like a speck of dust, if she wanted to.

Chapter 6 Clear His Crap

Asher sneered. "Think whatever the hell you want, but let me warn you—if you invite Lysander over for dinner again, don't expect me to be nice."

With that, he stormed off, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Elara stood frozen, her lips curling in disbelief. 'What the hell? Does he really think he runs this place?' she fumed silently.

Still furious, she headed to her room and quickly called Ursa. "Ursa, clear Asher's crap out of his room tomorrow. This house isn't big enough for the both of us."

After hanging up, she saved Lysander's number in her phone and texted him: [Did you make it home safe?]

But there was no reply.

*****

The next morning, Elara woke up, half-expecting Asher to have left already.

But when she went downstairs, there he was, sitting in the dining room like nothing had happened, as if waiting for her.

Without a word, Elara sat down and started eating her breakfast. Seeing him still sitting there, she finally said, her voice cold, "Aren't you supposed to pick up your girlfriend? That way, you can leave faster."

"We're just friends. Don't get the wrong idea," Asher shot back defensively, though they were secretly dating.

In their elite circle, young relationships were frowned upon. If Daphne hadn't accidentally let it slip, Elara would still be in the dark.

Watching him pretend to be innocent, Elara felt a wave of disgust. 'He really thinks I'm still clueless, doesn't he?' she mused internally.

After breakfast, Asher followed her out. The driver had already been replaced by someone new, who respectfully opened the car door for Elara.

She got in, but before she could say anything, Asher climbed in after her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Elara gave him a sharp look. "Asher, what's your problem? Didn't you say you wouldn't ride with me anymore? I still remember what you said yesterday."

Asher pressed his lips together, staying silent. 'If my dad didn't need me to smooth things over with her, I wouldn't even bother. She's just full of herself because of her family's money. What the hell is there to be so proud of?' he thought, though he knew his father needed to keep his job.

Seeing him keep quiet, Elara decided not to waste her breath. She signaled the driver, and they headed to school.

At the school gates, Elara stepped out, with Asher trailing behind. Normally, they would've arrived with Daphne, but today she'd taken the bus alone.

As soon as Daphne spotted Asher, she rushed over. "Hey, Asher!"

"Morning," he muttered, clearly uninterested.

Daphne turned her eyes to Elara, still confused by what had happened the day before. She couldn't understand how a servant's daughter had the guts to treat Asher like that.

Seeing Asher and Elara arrive together, Daphne couldn't help but ask, "Did you two... make up?"

Elara didn't bother with the chatter around her and walked straight into the classroom. Asher watched her walk away, his frown deepening when it hit him—she wasn't waiting for him.

Turning to Daphne, he muttered, "There's nothing going on between us, you know."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're letting the daughter of a servant boss you around? You're way too soft. People are saying she's the real heiress now."

Asher rolled his eyes. "Let them say what they want. My dad's tight with her family, and he asked me to keep an eye on her. I can't just ignore that."

"Alright, fine," Daphne huffed, a bit relieved to know it was just about his dad's request.

Inside the classroom, Elara spotted Lizzie sitting in her seat.

"Move," Elara said, not bothering with niceties.

Lizzie glared at her. "You're unbelievable! Yesterday, you ditched Asher and Daphne and drove off on your own like a total diva."

Elara smirked, tilting her head slightly. "It's my car, isn't it? I decide who rides with me. What's it to you? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?"

Her confidence made everyone curious. Someone piped up, "Wait, are you saying that Maybach outside is yours?"

Elara glanced at them, unfazed. "What do you think?"

Lizzie snorted, "Oh, come on, Elara. We all know your background. Trying to play the heiress now? Do you even believe your own bullshit? I heard that driver's your dad, and your whole family works for the Blackwoods. If Asher weren't so damn nice, he'd have thrown you out a long time ago. So don't go pushing your luck."

Since Lizzie was tight with Daphne, and Daphne spent so much time with Asher, people were quick to believe her.

Just then, Asher and Daphne showed up at the classroom door.

Asher's jaw tightened. Lizzie might've been aiming her words at Elara, but it was clear they also hit him.

Without missing a beat, he walked right up to Lizzie, his voice ice-cold. "Move back to your own seat."

Lizzie's mouth opened, but no words came out. Realizing she'd pushed it too far, she grudgingly grabbed her stuff and went back to her original seat.

Asher sat down beside Elara without saying anything.

Elara didn't even blink. Asher was the teacher's favorite and popular in class—no one would question where he decided to sit.

Still fuming, Lizzie leaned over to Daphne and whispered, "What the hell, Daphne? Elara's walking all over him, and he's still defending her. Now he's even sitting with her."

Daphne explained, "His dad just wants him to keep an eye on Elara. That's literally all there is to it, so stop overthinking it."

"Oh, I see," Lizzie said, suddenly getting it. "No wonder Elara's acting all smug, claiming that car is hers!"

Asher's phone was clearly high-end, and Elara's looked almost identical. 'She's trying to pass herself off as some heiress, but who the fuck would believe that?' Lizzie thought.

Elara sat at her desk, sneaking a look at her phone. She saw Lysander had finally replied to her message with just one word: [Yes.]

That single word felt so distant. She remembered how warm he'd been yesterday, but ever since he went home, he seemed cold, like he didn't give a damn. And this was the first time he'd replied since then—just this morning.

Sitting nearby, Asher noticed her staring at her phone. The name "Lysander Hawthorne" flashed on the screen, and his brow furrowed.

Everything seemed normal, but Asher couldn't shake the feeling that something about Elara had completely changed since yesterday.

*****

Elara quickly typed out a message and sent it to Lysander: [Are you coming for tutoring this afternoon?]

Lysander's reply was another short "Yes."

That was enough to put her at ease. As long as he was coming, she could relax. With that off her mind, she focused back on her studies.

*****

By lunchtime, Daphne showed up to grab Asher, and they headed to the cafeteria together. Asher, still curious, glanced at Elara and asked, "Aren't you eating?"

Elara was unusually focused today, which caught Asher off guard. Not only had she stayed awake in class, but she'd also been organizing her notes like afterward.

It was unreal. Normally, Elara was in her own little bubble, never paying attention to anything. Asher had never seen her study this hard.

Seeing her still at it after class, Asher couldn't help but ask again. But Elara acted like she hadn't even heard him, completely blowing him off.

Chapter 7 Acting Like A Victim

Daphne glanced at Asher and said, "Since Elara's not coming, why don't we just go without her and bring her something later?"

"No need," Elara cut in, polite but firm.

Everyone knew Daphne as the considerate one, always being nice to Elara, even when others gave her strange looks.

But Elara hated owing anyone. She grabbed her things, stood up, and walked downstairs alone, purposely not joining them.

As they were about to leave, Daphne, following right behind Asher, asked, clearly confused, "What the hell's her problem? She's not even looking at you. Did you piss her off or something?"

Asher kept silent, just as clueless. Normally, no matter how cold or distant he was, Elara would always stick by him like a shadow.

But since yesterday, she'd suddenly started acting all distant, and he couldn't figure out what had changed.

"Oh, by the way, you're still inviting her to your birthday this weekend, right?" Daphne asked, reminding him.

This weekend was Asher's birthday. Last year, Elara had thrown him a huge party at the Regal Crest Hotel. She'd taken care of everything—every tiny detail—and made sure the whole class was there.

The party had cost a ton of money, and people still talked about it. Being invited to Asher's birthday was like a badge of honor.

This year was supposed to be the same deal. Just a few days ago, Elara had told him everything was set.

But ever since yesterday, when she said she was "letting him go," Asher had felt off. And today, her distant attitude was making him even more nervous. 'If she doesn't show up, will the party even happen?' he thought.

Watching her walk away, Asher tried to calm himself. 'Why the hell am I stressing? Elara's definitely gonna be there. No way she'd miss my birthday. Maybe she's just acting cold to mess with me, part of some surprise or whatever.'

Feeling slightly reassured, Asher turned to Daphne. "She's definitely coming."

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, she's always at your birthday. No way she'd skip it."

*****

That afternoon, Asher and Daphne were tied up rehearsing for the school anniversary show, while Elara didn't bother waiting around for Asher and headed straight home.

When she got there, Lysander had already been waiting with his dog, Cotton. The sight of him standing there made Elara smile.

There was just something about him—maybe it was some strange, time-travel vibe—but being with him made every moment feel like it mattered.

Lysander caught the smile and was a little thrown off. He was so used to her being distant, even cold, that her warmth now was kind of unsettling.

"You're here early," Elara said softly.

"Yeah," Lysander replied, keeping it short and simple.

"Come on, let's head to the study," she said, leading him upstairs.

Earlier in class, Elara had been struggling with some tough concepts, so she figured this was the perfect chance to get Lysander to help her out.

They settled in the study, in what used to be Asher's spot. But honestly, even when Asher was around, he never really helped her with her studies. Half the time, it felt like he thought she was just a distraction.

Lysander sat down beside her, pulling out a couple of practice tests to gauge where she was at.

Elara took them seriously and handed them over when she finished.

As Lysander reviewed her answers, Elara, feeling a bit embarrassed, said, "Sorry... I'm really bad at this."

"It's not your fault," Lysander said gently. "You just need a better way to approach it. Let's work through the basics, alright?"

Elara nodded. "Okay."

Lysander got to work, explaining everything clearly and breaking down the problems so simply that even the tough stuff started to make sense to her.

After a while, Lysander paused to take a sip of water. He noticed Elara watching him, which made him a little uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the papers. "What? You stuck on something?"

Elara gave a small smile. "No, it's just... you're really patient with me. But when you text me, you're so damn cold. You barely respond! Is it because of... Asher?"

Lysander quickly shook his head. "Fuck, no. It's not like that. My family was over yesterday, so I got tied up with them. I saw your message this morning. Next time, just call me, alright?"

"Alright," Elara said, her smile widening, feeling a bit more relieved.

While they were busy working, Elara's phone suddenly rang.

She answered, and Asher's pissed-off voice came through loud and clear. "Elara, what the hell is this?"

Elara blinked, completely confused. "What did I do now?" She had no idea what he was so mad about this time.

"Did you seriously throw my stuff out?" Asher demanded.

Elara shot a glance at Lysander Hawthorne, who was sitting beside her. Without any hesitation, she said bluntly, "I told you yesterday—you're fired. Since you don't work for me anymore, why the hell would you still be staying at my place? I'm in the middle of something right now, so stop wasting my time." And with that, she hung up, not giving him a chance to say anything else.

Asher stood there, staring at his stuff, all packed up and thrown out like trash. He couldn't wrap his head around it—Elara was actually kicking him out. 'What the hell is her problem?' he muttered to himself.

After ending the call, Elara turned back to Lysander. "Shall we continue?" she asked. Lysander nodded, and they went back to their work.

It didn't take long, though, before the door suddenly burst open. Asher stormed in, anger written all over his face. When he saw Elara sitting there with Lysander, a flicker of disgust flashed in his eyes.

Elara shot to her feet, clearly pissed off. "What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped. 'Doesn't he think I'm beneath him? Doesn't he fucking hate me? So why the hell is he barging in now, acting all dramatic?' she thought.

Asher stalked over, his voice laced with accusation. "Do you get off on humiliating me, Elara?"

Lysander immediately stood up too, instinctively positioning himself between Asher and Elara.

But Elara wasn't about to back down. She met Asher's rage head-on. "Humiliate you? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Her voice was sharp as she continued, "Asher Blackwood, you're the one who humiliated me. I've been covering your living expenses while you spend all your time with Daphne, treating me like some damn servant, freezing me out. Isn't that humiliation?"

All she did was take back what was hers to begin with, and now he's acting like a damn victim. She couldn't believe it.

Asher's lips tightened, and his gaze locked on hers. "Don't think bringing someone else into this is gonna change a thing. I'll never like you, Elara, and we're never getting together. Let me be crystal clear—I'm in love with Daphne, and we're together now. You? I will never have feelings for you."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Elara walked over to the window and watched as he left, dragging his bags behind him, not even glancing back.

Asher had always been so proud in front of her, even with his humble background. She used to admire that about him—the way he never bowed to anyone for money. But now, it just seemed pathetic.

Lysander, noticing her standing there by the window, gently reminded her, "Miss Kensington."

Chapter 8 Birthday Party

Elara turned around, and Lysander was still standing there. "Sorry about that. Ready to keep going?"

Lysander frowned, concern flashing across his face. "You sure you're alright? You don't seem like yourself."

"I'm fine, really," she said quickly, even though her mind was drifting back to the stupid crap she'd done in the past.

It wasn't Asher that was bothering her. Honestly, seeing him now gave her a weird sense of relief. At least she wasn't stuck worrying about the future anymore.

Without Asher in the picture, she felt sure she wouldn't repeat the same screw-ups—no HIV, no tragic ending this time.

"I think I should head out," Lysander said again, hesitating for a moment before starting to turn away.

But Elara, panicked, stepped forward and grabbed his hand.

He paused, glancing back at her with a confused look. "What's up?"

Elara didn't fully understand her own reaction either, but she wasn't blind to the fact that Lysander always seemed to pull away whenever Asher was around. It was like he couldn't handle being near the guy.

Thinking back, she'd never really hidden her feelings for Asher. She'd been all over him, and it was obvious to everyone—including Lysander. They probably all thought she was obsessed with Asher.

And yeah, at one point, she was. If not for the disaster that happened before she crossed over, she might've never realized how wrong she was.

But now Lysander was here, staring at her. She let go of his hand, her voice soft but steady. "Are you free on Saturday? I'm thinking dinner at the Regal Crest. Want to join me?"

The Regal Crest Hotel was known for its food, and after starving to death in her past, she had a newfound appreciation for a good meal.

Before, she would've taken Asher without a second thought. But now, she found herself wanting Lysander's company.

After all, he was the one her father had picked for her to marry. If she played things right this time, she might actually end up marrying him after graduation.

She used to think her dad didn't give a damn about what she wanted. But looking at Lysander now—with his good looks, his height, and a family background to match Asher's—he was definitely a solid option. If he was down to spend his life with her, she wasn't exactly losing out.

Lysander raised an eyebrow. "You're not planning to invite Asher, are you?"

Elara caught the question immediately and shot back, "What, you want me to end up with him? Or do you just want me to avoid you again, like I did before?"

"Hell no," Lysander said, way too fast.

Elara smirked, amused. "Good. It's a date then. See you Saturday."

*****

Elara rolled in late Saturday afternoon—fashionably, of course.

When she got there, she noticed a bunch of familiar faces gathered at the entrance, all decked out like they were attending some high-end event.

Lizzie, Daphne's little minion, spotted her immediately and couldn't resist taking a jab. "Elara? You actually had the nerve to show up?"

Elara frowned, not really getting why Lizzie was being snarky. "Why wouldn't I?"

After all, the owner of the Regal Crest Hotel was practically family, and she was a top VIP. She could come and go whenever she wanted.

Lizzie scoffed, her voice full of sarcasm. "Seriously? Asher hasn't even looked your way at school for days, and yet you still show up to his birthday party like it's no big deal?"

That's when it hit her—today was Asher's birthday.

She'd been so buried in schoolwork that it had completely slipped her mind. If Lizzie hadn't said anything, she might have totally forgotten about the fact that she had organized everything with the hotel for tonight weeks ago.

She remembered back on Asher's eighteenth birthday, when she had thrown him this extravagant bash right here at the Regal Crest. It had been the kind of event everyone talked about for weeks.

But that was also the night she found out about him and Daphne.

She had confronted Asher, but he hadn't even flinched. "Daphne and I like each other, Elara. Why the hell shouldn't we be together? Can you stop trying to fuck with my life?"

Angry, she'd given him the cold shoulder, but that only lasted a couple of days before she caved and made up with him.

After that, Asher and Daphne didn't bother hiding anything. They flaunted their relationship right in her face at every chance they got.

At one point, she'd been so desperate she even begged him to choose her, offering up her father's company just to marry him.

Now, standing there and looking at the scene in front of her, Elara felt nothing. No anger, no jealousy, just a dull emptiness. She chose to ignore the whole thing.

After all, every single detail of this event tonight had been arranged by her. The entire party was being paid for on her dime.

Now that she had stepped back, she was curious to see how Asher planned to handle things, enjoying his birthday bash on her tab like nothing had changed.

*****

Ignoring the snarky comments from her classmates, Elara walked straight into the elevator like she couldn't care less. She already had a table booked with Lysander, but she wasn't sure if he'd gotten there before her.

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, she immediately spotted Asher, laughing with Daphne. The moment he saw her, his gaze locked on like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.

With a smug grin, Asher sauntered over. "Didn't you say you weren't coming? Don't think showing up now is gonna make me forgive you that easily. I'm still pissed, Elara."

He always tried to use his anger to push her around, but this time, Elara just looked at him calmly, with a small, knowing smile. "Was there something you needed?"

Feigning surprised, Asher raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you here for my birthday?"

Elara let out a dry laugh. "Why the hell would I celebrate your birthday? You didn't even bother inviting me. Besides, looks like you've got enough people here to keep you busy."

Asher's face tightened, irritation flashing across his features. "What's your problem, Elara?" He couldn't wrap his head around why she wasn't making things easy for him.

Just then, the restaurant manager approached, noticing Elara. "Miss Kensington."

"Has Lysander arrived?" Elara asked, completely ignoring Asher now.

The manager nodded. "Yes, he's here already."

"Great. Lead the way, thanks," she said, brushing past Asher like he wasn't even worth her time.

"Sure, this way please."

But Asher wasn't done. He followed her, his temper flaring. "Elara, haven't you fucked things up enough for one night?"

Finding out she was meeting Lysander clearly pissed him off even more.

Elara turned, a teasing gleam in her eyes. "I'm not the one fucking things up here, Asher. You said I was a nuisance, didn't want me around. Now that I'm staying out of your way, you're mad again? Make up your damn mind. Your girlfriend's right over there, waiting for you."

She glanced at Daphne, who stood off to the side, looking uncertain and more than a little confused. It was clear she hadn't expected Asher to get this worked up over Elara.

But Elara knew what was really going on—Asher didn't care about her. He missed the money, the perks she brought into his life.

He never liked her, but he sure as hell didn't mind taking what she gave. Always played like he didn't want it, but never turned anything down.

Now that she wasn't bending over backward to please him, it had him totally off balance. Couldn't let his carefully planned birthday fall apart, after all.

Desperate, Asher tried to reel things back in. "If this is about Daphne, I'll keep my distance from her, alright? Can we just drop this crap and move on?"

Chapter 9 Pay The Bill

For the first time ever, Asher actually took a step back. It was obvious just how much this birthday party meant to him.

If he didn't care about his image, he wouldn't bother acting like the rich kid at school, and he sure wouldn't have gone all out inviting so many people to his party.

'So, he does care about his reputation after all,' Elara thought with a smirk. Seeing Asher—normally so cold and aloof—bend over backwards for a birthday party was almost hilarious to her.

She gave a slight nod and said, "Well, it's your birthday, and I don't want to ruin everyone's fun, right?" Then, turning to the manager, she added, "I booked one of the private dining rooms under Asher Blackwood's name."

The manager checked and confirmed, "Yes, Miss Kensington."

Elara smiled politely. "Since it's Asher's special day, let him have the room," she said, turning back to Asher. "That work for you?"

Seeing her finally give in, Asher let out a small sigh of relief.

But then his voice turned sharp, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "You did all this just to keep me away from Daphne, didn't you? You just can't stand seeing us together."

Elara didn't flinch, her voice steady. "You're giving yourself too much credit. I don't give a damn who you're with. But one day, Asher, you'll realize—without me, you're nothing."

The manager stood there, awkwardly witnessing the verbal slap she just delivered.

"I'm done with you," Asher growled, turning on his heel and storming off.

The manager quickly turned to Elara, trying to ease the tension. "I'll have the private room ready for you, Miss Kensington."

Elara nodded. "Great. And make sure he pays the bill before he leaves. Nobody skips out on the check."

"Understood, Miss Kensington."

Once everything was settled, Elara left to go find Lysander.

Meanwhile, Asher returned to Daphne, who immediately noticed his dark expression. She looked at him with concern. "What happened? What did she say?"

Asher waved her off. "Nothing important."

As he glanced at Daphne's kind, worried face, a thought flashed through his mind. 'Break up with Daphne? Elara's out of her damn mind. After tonight's party, Elara can go to hell. I'm done with her."

*****

Lysander wasn't in his usual school uniform today. Instead, he wore a simple white T-shirt. Basic, but somehow it looked ridiculously stylish on him.

When Elara walked in, Lysander was browsing the menu. He looked up when he heard her approach.

Elara gave him a warm smile. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Nah, just got here," Lysander replied, his eyes drifting over her.

She was wearing a pleated skirt today, looking lively and cute, though he couldn't help noticing she seemed a little thinner than the last time they hung out.

Elara casually sat down right next to him, surprising him a bit. There were plenty of other seats, but she chose the one right beside him. Lysander felt a bit self-conscious.

But Elara didn't seem to notice. "Have you ordered yet?" she asked, her tone casual.

"Not yet, just checking out the menu," he replied, trying to sound chill.

"Let me see," she said, leaning in closer to share his menu.

At that moment, Lysander couldn't even concentrate on the menu anymore—he was completely distracted by the person sitting next to him.

Her light, fresh fragrance wasn't overpowering, just enough to make him curious. He found himself wondering what kind of shampoo she used.

Elara ordered a few spicy dishes, hoping the heat would jolt her back to reality. The days when she had been sick felt like a nightmare.

Even now, after traveling back in time, those painful memories still haunted her dreams.

As soon as the spice hit her tongue, she fanned herself, grabbing for her cold drink to cool the burn. Noticing her reaction, Lysander asked, "You good with spicy food?"

"It's alright," she said, looking up at him. "You?"

"Yeah, same," he replied with a grin, then grabbed his fork and helped himself to some of the dishes.

The staff in the room stayed discreetly on standby, ready to serve. Just then, Hadden Mann, the owner of the Regal Crest Hotel, walked in.

Elara greeted him with a polite smile, "Hello, Hadden."

Hadden beamed at her. "Elara! What a surprise to see you here!"

His words made it clear he hadn't come for her. True to form, Hadden quickly turned his attention to Lysander, addressing him respectfully, "Mr. Hawthorne, welcome to our hotel. I hope everything's to your satisfaction."

Hadden knew Lysander's real identity, thanks to his close ties with Elara's father. Almost no one in Brookfield knew who Lysander really was, let alone that he was the heir to the Hawthorne family from Starfield City.

Lysander just gave a small smile and muttered a casual "Yeah, thanks," before going back to his food. His cool detachment made it seem like he was miles away, even though he was right there.

Elara had always thought Lysander was outgoing and fun to be around, but seeing him like this, she realized he wasn't much for small talk.

Hadden lingered for a while, even pouring water for Lysander himself, but the awkward silence just stretched on.

The tension was thick, and eventually, Hadden took the hint and politely excused himself. "I'll leave you two to enjoy your meal. Elara, take care."

"Wait, Hadden," Elara called after him.

He turned back, his face lighting up with that warm, familiar smile. "Anything else, Elara?"

That smile—like a sunny spring day—had always made her feel at ease, and she'd respected him ever since she was a kid.

But if her memory served her right, before she time-traveled, the Regal Crest Hotel had burned down just three days after Asher's birthday party.

The kitchen had terrible fire safety, and by the time they realized the fire extinguishers weren't working, it was too late. People had died.

The once-proud Regal Crest Hotel, the jewel of Brookfield's hospitality industry, was never the same after that. They said the disaster had taken such a toll on Hadden that it eventually made him sick.

Elara glanced at Hadden, her face etched with concern. "You sure the hotel's fire safety is solid?"

Hadden blinked, clearly thrown off by the sudden question. "What's got you so worried, Elara?"

"I don't know... I just feel like it wouldn't hurt to check, especially in the kitchen. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"Relax," Hadden said, thumping his chest confidently. "Our fire safety's top-tier. There's nothing to worry about. We've got every corner covered. Guests are safe, no doubt about it."

Elara didn't back down, her eyes locked on his. "Why don't you just check it yourself?"

Hadden's smile faltered, and his brow furrowed. "What the hell, Elara? You don't trust me? Your dad and I go way back. He knows me better than that. I've always run a tight ship. Now you're questioning my integrity?"

To him, Elara was just a kid, not much older than his daughter. In his eyes, there was no way she knew a thing about running a hotel.

Before the tension could rise any further, Lysander, who had been quiet this whole time, finally spoke up. "Since she brought it up, why not just take a look?"

Lysander hadn't said much to Hadden since he got there, usually just giving short responses. But now, with him weighing in, Hadden sighed in frustration. "Fine, I'll check."

Despite being around Elara's age, Lysander had this calm, no-nonsense vibe about him. It made people listen when he spoke, whether they liked it or not.

Chapter 10 Ask Him Yourself

After Hadden walked out, Elara gave Lysander a puzzled look. "Why'd you help me?"

She had a ton of information to back her up, sure. But from Lysander's point of view, there was no way he could've known that.

Lysander leaned back casually. "You asked for help. Why wouldn't I?"

"Aren't you worried I might be full of shit?"

Lysander just smirked. "And if you are? So what? Even if you're making it all up, no skin off my back. It's just a simple favor for him."

His laid-back attitude, the easy confidence in his voice, sent a warm glow through Elara. It made her feel trusted. Something she hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Her mind flashed back to when she was diagnosed with HIV. No one believed her. Everyone jumped to conclusions, assuming she'd been careless, reckless even.

If she had been, maybe she could've accepted the blame. But she hadn't.

People were cruel, keeping their distance, treating her like she was tainted. Eventually, she'd started to hate herself too.

But deep down, she knew the ones who had framed her—they knew her innocence better than anyone.

*****

After dinner, Elara and Lysander didn't rush to leave. They ordered dessert, taking their time, enjoying the rare moment of peace.

Elara focused on her assignments, biting into her dessert, while Lysander patiently walked her through the problems she couldn't solve on her own.

They stayed like that until night fell.

Later, when Asher's birthday party wrapped up and everyone was about to leave, there was a hold-up—Asher hadn't paid the bill.

Asher called Elara, but she let the phone ring out.

Lysander, sitting beside her, glanced over. "Not gonna answer?"

"I know who it is," Elara said, unfazed.

Asher called two more times before she finally picked up.

"Elara, what the fuck is this supposed to mean?!" Asher's voice was boiling with anger on the other end.

The angrier he got, the more satisfied Elara felt. She'd sworn to herself she wouldn't get involved with him again, but there were old scores to settle.

And until she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to move on.

She gave a sly smirk, teasing, "What's got you so riled up, Asher?"

Asher's voice dropped, laced with a warning. "Just get your ass over here and pay the bill. Don't make this a scene."

He'd planned to slip out right after the birthday party, cut Elara off once and for all. But of course, she had to show up, probably just to watch him crash and burn.

Now here he was, flat broke, unable to pay, leaving everyone in this painfully awkward limbo.

Feigning surprise, Elara shot back, "Oh, isn't this something? It's your birthday, and I haven't spent a single cent. Why should I be the one footing the bill? Maybe you should ask your loyal fans—you know, the ones always tagging along to your fancy meals."

Back when they were close, Elara used to slip him tens of thousands every month, calling it a "tutoring fee."

He'd take it like it was his due, always acting like the big spender, always with a crowd around. None of them had a clue it was Elara's money keeping up his show.

Now, flustered and pissed, Asher growled, "Elara, do you have to do this right now? What the hell do you want? Just name your price, and I'll do it. Just cover the damn bill."

Elara chuckled softly. "If you're asking for a favor, maybe try sounding like it. What do you think?"

She could hear the frustration in his ragged breathing through the phone. But she wasn't the same Elara who used to bend over backward for him. And Asher, now, was left in a swirl of confusion and anger.

She smirked again, her tone light but cutting. "Not gonna beg? Fine. Whatever. I'm hanging up."

"Please!" Asher gripped the phone tightly, his voice low and strained through clenched teeth.

The hotel staff stood around, eyes darting, waiting for someone to settle the tab. No one could leave, and Asher could feel the weight of all those stares, suffocating him.

Without another word, Elara hung up. She turned to Lysander. "I'll be back in a bit."

She stepped into the private room, where the party guests were still awkwardly clustered, all throwing each other uncomfortable glances, clearly waiting for Asher to pay up. No one could move, and Asher had to suffer under their silent judgment.

When Elara walked in, the manager immediately greeted her with respect. "Miss Kensington."

She swept her eyes over the room, taking in the well-dressed crowd. She remembered how smug they'd been earlier, but now their arrogance had crumbled. Nothing wipes out someone's pride faster than being trapped with no way to pay the bill.

Elara beamed, her smile as bright as ever. 'What's going on, everyone? Isn't this Asher's big birthday party? Why the long faces?' Her gaze slid deliberately toward Asher Blackwood, whose expression was stormy with anger.

Daphne stood nearby, clearly confused and unsure of what was happening.

The manager quickly stepped in, explaining, "Mr. Blackwood hasn't settled the bill yet, so I gave him a reminder."

Elara raised an eyebrow, her voice smooth. "Oh, I see! No big deal, guys. No need to get all tense over something small like that. We're all friends here, right? I'll cover it tonight."

With that, she handed over her card without hesitation, and the manager quickly left to handle the payment.

The others exchanged uneasy glances, their thoughts obvious. 'It's Asher's birthday, but Elara's paying? What the hell? Can't he afford his own party?'

Asher's face flushed with embarrassment. He shot a glare at Elara, finally realizing what was going on—she had shown up just to humiliate him in front of everyone. To make it clear that he couldn't pay his own way and had to rely on her.

In the past, she'd always handled things discreetly. But not this time. Now she was making a spectacle of it, swiping her card in front of the whole damn group. She was doing this on purpose.

'Crazy bitch,' he fumed to himself.

The manager came back, handing Elara her card and the receipt. "Miss Kensington, the payment's all set. Here's the bill."

Elara glanced at the receipt, then raised her voice deliberately. "Three hundred grand! Happy birthday, Asher! This one's on me, but let's be clear—there won't be a next time. I don't mind supporting you, but I'm not about to pay for your girlfriend too."

She threw a pointed look at Daphne as she spoke.

Daphne's face went ghostly pale. 'Wait, what? Asher's money comes from Elara? Isn't he supposed to be rich?' she wondered.

Everyone could feel the tension thick in the air, and the reality of the situation hitting hard.

That was when Lizzie stepped forward, her voice sharp. "What the hell are you trying to say, Elara? Just because you've got control of Asher's money, you think it's yours now? You're nothing but the daughter of his family's servant. Who do you think you are, really?"

Elara laughed, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Lizzie. "Does your family let their servants manage their money? And for the record, I'm not Asher's family's servant's daughter. His dad's my family's driver. Remember that day at the school gate? He left me behind and drove off with Asher and Daphne. Well, guess what? He's been fired. Don't believe me? Ask Asher yourself."

She turned her piercing gaze on Asher. "So, Asher, what do you have to say?"