Zara Collins’ life was marble halls and whispered envy, a flawless script written by wealth. But perfection has cracks and she felt them widening beneath her heels. Privilege wasn’t just a word; it was the air she breathed, the armor she wore. Everything gleamed on the surface, but underneath it was fragile, brittle.
Her mornings ran with clockwork precision: curated playlists, avocado toast cut at perfect angles, a designer outfit that screamed effortless power. To the world, Zara was untouchable. But inside, the weight of expectation pressed like a slow poison.
On campus, she moved like she owned the place heels clicking a rhythm of command. Compliments trailed after her, laced with envy and hushed whispers about the Collins fortune. Yet boredom clung to her like a shadow. The polished routine was starting to feel like a song stuck on repeat.
That’s when she saw him.
Sky.
Not thunder, not lightning more like a sudden eclipse, swallowing the light just enough to make her blink twice. His eyes were calm but unreadable, the kind that hinted at stories too dangerous to tell. He walked across campus like he belonged everywhere and nowhere at once.
She noticed him first in the library, her only sanctuary from the staged perfection of her world. She was reaching for a rare edition when another hand brushed close to hers.
“Sorry.” His voice was low, smooth, not the kind that apologized.
Their eyes met, and the world narrowed. A sharp current ran through her, unsettling in its intensity.
“It’s fine,” she managed, though her chest felt too tight.
“You’re Zara, right?” The way he said her name was casual, but it landed heavy, like a secret.
She nodded. “Yeah. And you’re Sky.”
He smiled, but it never touched his eyes. “Something like that.”
The name, the mystery, the tension it rattled her. Sky didn’t fit the glossy narrative of wealth and power. His family name wasn’t in magazines or whispered in cocktail parties. His legacy lived in shadows rumors of debts, whispered crimes, the kind of history no one dared put in print.
Zara’s heart knew the stakes before her mind did: falling for him wasn’t just reckless. It was dangerous.
As he disappeared between the shelves, her perfect crystal life cracked, spider-webbing at the edges. And in her world, every secret had a price.
This wasn’t the end of her story. It was the beginning.
The days after stretched restless. Zara replayed the moment in her head the brush of his hand, the edge in his voice. She hated that she cared. She hated even more that she couldn’t stop.
Her family’s world was ordered like a staged photograph: brunches, galas, country club dinners, everything arranged for appearances. And Zara? She was supposed to play the perfect daughter. Not chase danger. Not crave Sky.
But danger had already slipped into her veins, subtle as perfume.
The second meeting wasn’t an accident. At least, not for her. She found him again in the library, hunched over a battered notebook, headphones dangling loose. Not a MacBook. Not glossy tech. Just ink and paper. Messy. Real.
“You stalking me?” he asked, smirk tugging at his lips without looking up.
“Hardly,” she shot back, cheeks warming. “Some of us come here to think.”
He finally looked at her and there it was again, that jolt, sharp and unexplainable.
“Thinking’s dangerous,” he said. “Most people avoid it.”
Her laugh slipped out before she could stop it real, unpolished, not the trained cocktail-party version. And for a heartbeat, she forgot who she was supposed to be.
Piece by piece, she read between his silences. The way he stiffened at certain last names. The way his gaze sharpened when security lingered too close. The way he never stayed long in one place.
Sky wasn’t just mysterious. He was hiding.
And she should have walked away.
But she didn’t.
By the time the whispers started rumors about her absences, about the boy with no pedigree Zara was already tangled. Sky wasn’t impressed by her last name. He looked at her like she was real. And that scared her more than anything.
Because in Zara’s world, reality was the most dangerous thing of all.
One night, beneath the oak trees where campus lights didn’t reach, Sky finally let something slip.
“Your family’s rich,” he said sharply. “But mine… mine’s something else.”
Her throat tightened. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated. Then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re smart, you’ll stay away.”
But Zara didn’t stay away.
Because by then, it was already too late.
The cracks had spread, the glass was breaking, and Zara Collins the girl who had everything was about to gamble it all on the one boy who could burn her world down.
