Stephanie stepped out of her final class, clutching her books close to her chest as a soft breeze swept through the trees lining the campus walkway. The sky had turned a cloudy gold, painted by the late afternoon sun as it began to set. Students strolled by, laughing and chatting. She, however, was lost in thought.
Why couldn't she stop thinking about him?
Every little detail about Raymond Carter kept replaying in her head—the way his voice lowered when he was annoyed, the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the warmth that lingered in the car even after he dropped her off. She hated it.
He was rude. Cold. Definitely not the kind of man she needed in her life.
But that didn't stop her stomach from fluttering when she thought about him.
As she reached the parking area behind the science building, her phone buzzed. A message from Katherine.
> "Going out for supplies. Want me to pick up noodles and iced coffee?"
Stephanie smiled and replied quickly.
> "Yes please. Thank you."
She slipped the phone back into her bag and looked up just in time to notice a black Rolls Royce pulling into the campus lot—again. Her heart skipped. She recognized the license plate instantly.
No. He wouldn't…
The car stopped, and sure enough, the driver stepped out first. It was the same man from the other night. And then, slowly and almost hesitantly, Raymond exited the car, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone. His expression unreadable.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Stephanie stood frozen, uncertain. Why was he here?
"Mr. Carter," one of the security officers greeted with a slight bow. "Everything okay?"
Raymond gave a faint nod, his eyes never leaving Stephanie.
She turned quickly, pretending not to notice, but her heart was racing. She didn't want to seem eager… or curious. But the sound of his slow, calculated footsteps behind her made it impossible to ignore.
"Stephanie."
Her name on his lips. Calm. Controlled.
She paused. Slowly turned.
"Yes?"
Raymond didn't blink. "You dropped your umbrella in my car the other night."
She stared at him. "You came all the way here… for that?"
He handed it over, his expression flat. "I don't like clutter."
Stephanie took the umbrella slowly. "You could've had your driver drop it off."
"I could have," he replied, then turned away.
No explanation. No warmth.
That was it?
Stephanie blinked, confused. "Wait."
He stopped mid-step, head turning slightly.
"I just…" she struggled to find her words, feeling ridiculous. "Thank you."
A pause. A faint flicker in his eyes—something unreadable.
"You're welcome," he said softly, then got into the car and drove away.
Stephanie stood there long after the car disappeared down the road, the black umbrella clutched in her hand like some sort of trophy.
---
That Night
Raymond sat alone in his penthouse, jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled up. His phone buzzed beside him on the table. A text from Dina.
> "Board dinner tomorrow. Don't forget to bring me. Appearance matters. x"
He ignored it.
His eyes drifted back to the image he'd pulled up on his laptop. It was a photo from the charity event—Stephanie standing by the donation table, smiling gently while speaking to an elderly woman. The candid shot had been published in a business magazine blog about the hospital event. It had nothing to do with her. She wasn't named. But he had noticed her.
And saved it.
Raymond leaned back, rubbing his temples.
What the hell was she doing to him?