Chapter 429

She set down her phone and gripped the sheets tightly with both hands.
Emily Blair let out a slow, steady breath.
It was time, she thought. She needed to pick up the pace.
She and Elizabeth Wilson were among Xavier Gonzalez’s best students. Their progress was almost astonishing—so fast that Xavier, who already had his hands full juggling work and a slew of irritating colleagues, now spent his evenings agonizing over what to teach them next. These days, he was always a little frazzled, caught between his job and his overachieving protégés.
If things kept going like this, Emily figured, she’d be able to talk with Elizabeth and Xavier about starting their own venture not long after the entrance exams.
Since that night, Emily hadn’t seen Tristan Davis once. The apartment across the hall had been eerily quiet, as if Tristan had gone out early and never come back.
She couldn’t help remembering the night Tristan had been drugged. There was nothing simple about him.
From his striking features and air of cold refinement, Emily knew it was best to keep her distance. She’d struggled too hard for this newfound peace—she wasn’t about to let someone dangerous disrupt it.
Still, there were rumors. Emily kept hearing neighborhood gossip about her and Tristan. She ignored it, shoving the bills he’d returned to her deep into her bookshelf, as if hiding away the whole inconvenient chapter.
It was better this way, she told herself. Tristan’s comings and goings were a mystery, and that’s exactly how things should stay. Distance was safest.
Most afternoons, Emily, Elizabeth, and Xavier gathered at a coffee shop to study. They always stayed for hours. To avoid getting chased out by staff, Emily made a habit of continuously ordering drinks, so by the end of each session, the three of them were practically fueled by nothing but caffeine.
When Emily arrived that afternoon, neither Elizabeth nor Xavier had shown up yet.
She found her usual corner seat, accepted a menu from the barista, and ordered three coffees—one for each of them. She settled in to wait, idly watching the street outside.
A few minutes ticked by. Emily, feeling a little bored, let her gaze wander to the busy sidewalk—and immediately spotted a tall figure by the curb.
She squinted. There was no mistaking it: Tristan Davis.
He wore the same black hoodie as last time, head bowed, leaning against the wall. The aura he gave off was so dark and impenetrable that passersby instinctively skirted around him, giving him a wide berth.
Emily’s expression stayed cool and disinterested as she made to look away—until Tristan suddenly lifted his head.
For a split second, the sunlight caught his eyes, revealing a faint trace of blue.
His gaze was deep and guarded, sweeping slowly over the street as if searching for something or someone.
Back when he’d spoken to her so brusquely, he hadn’t looked half so wary, or so bitterly on edge.
Just as Emily was about to turn away, Tristan seemed to sense her. He looked up, and their eyes met-just for an instant.
She froze, then quickly averted her gaze, pretending she hadn’t seen him at all.
Whatever Tristan was doing out there, he was clearly watching for something. Or maybe, Emily thought, he was hiding from someone.
From a distance, Emily noticed a small group of men-dressed in plain clothes, but tense and restless-scanning the crowd a hundred yards away, as though they were looking for someone.