After that feeding, Emma's world fell into a strange calmness.

The tense string between her and Elias seemed to have relaxed due to the mingling of blood.


She no longer hated him, at least, not with that sharp hatred that made her want to rebel at every moment. Instead, it was replaced by a complex emotion mixed with humiliation, fear, and a touch of... morbid attachment.

She could clearly feel that Elias's attitude toward her had also changed. He was no longer the purely cold "jailer"; his gaze now contained a hint of... satisfaction. The satisfaction of a predator after a feast, looking at its "possession."

He had become more tolerant.


This tolerance gave Emma a bold idea.

"I need to go back to school," she finally spoke up during breakfast that day.


Elias raised his eyes, those golden orbs instantly turning cold. "Why."

Emma's heart tightened, but she didn't shrink back as she had before. "I can't just disappear like this. I need to go process my leave of absence paperwork, and... get my things from my studio locker."

"I'll have Julian take care of it."

"No." Emma insisted, "I must sign in person. And... those are my paintings, I want to get them myself."

Elias scrutinized her, "Are you testing my limits, Emma?"

"I'm just stating a fact," she said softly. "If you want me to... stay here 'healthily,' I can't be like a ghost, ignoring my past life."

Elias was silent for a moment.

"Very well," he finally spoke, "but I'll go with you."

Emma was stunned. She thought he would refuse, or at most have Julian escort her.

"I don't need you to..."

"Do you think I'm asking for your consent?" he coldly interrupted her, "Or do you believe I would let my 'canary' who has just learned not to pluck her feathers, fly out alone?"

"Put on the clothes I bought for you," he added in a tone that brooked no argument. "Especially that scarf. I don't want my 'companion' to look like... how you used to."

…………

When Emma stood on the lawn of the City Art Institute again, it felt like a lifetime ago.

She was wearing the clothes that Elias had taken her "shopping" for yesterday—an understated yet expensive The Row black cashmere sweater, and around her neck was the deep blue Loro Piana cashmere scarf she had liked at first sight.

And Elias, like an elegant ghost in control of everything, walked beside her.

He was just walking quietly, but that innate, inhuman aura of intimidation automatically made the surrounding students part ways for them. All eyes were fixed on them—confused, amazed, and envious.

Emma just wanted to finish the paperwork quickly and duck into the storage room.

"Oh my, who do we have here? Isn't this our great 'genius artist' Emma Vance?"

A sharp, caustic voice came from beside her.

Emma's footsteps froze.

Victoria Marlon, the daughter of the art academy's dean, and also the instigator who had publicly mocked Emma for being "poor" and "earning scholarships with her body" during her most difficult times.

Victoria folded her arms, looking Emma up and down, the contempt in her eyes completely undisguised.

"I thought you were too poor to pay tuition and had finally gotten lost," Victoria exaggeratedly pinched her nose, her gaze falling on Emma's scarf and coat.

"Wow!" Victoria dramatically covered her mouth, "You really splurged. This Loro Piana scarf, even a fake one costs several hundred, right? What's this, finally found your 'sponsor'? Too bad your taste is still so poor, the fake can be spotted at a glance."

The few followers beside her joined in the mocking laughter.

"Victoria, don't say that," a girl said with false sincerity, "She bought some high-quality replicas to impress the sponsors and make a good appearance, it must be so difficult for her."

Two weeks ago, Emma would have blushed and fled in embarrassment.

But now...

Emma simply raised her head calmly and touched the scarf around her neck. On it, Elias's scent seemed to still linger.

"Victoria," Emma's voice was soft, "how do you know it's fake?"

"Ha!" Victoria reacted as if she'd heard the joke of the century. "Emma, this scarf costs five thousand dollars for the authentic one! Can you afford that? Don't be ridiculous. Do you know that high-end replicas now come with fake NFC chips? Come on, let's open everyone's eyes."

Victoria smugly pulled out her latest model smartphone and opened the authentication app. She grabbed the tag on Emma's scarf and aimed it at the security chip.

"Everyone watch closely, when the scan fails, don't cry..."

Her voice came to an abrupt halt.

Instead of showing "Error" on the mobile screen, there was a "ding" sound as Loro Piana's official authentication page popped up—

【Vicuña & Cashmere Stole. Serial Number 77A9B. Authenticated as genuine.】

The mocking laughter around them instantly disappeared.

Victoria's face turned the color of a pig's liver. "This... this is impossible! You..."

Stubbornly disbelieving, she grabbed at Emma's outer garment again, "This one must be fake too! This The Row jacket..."

"Victoria! What are you doing?!"

An imposing middle-aged man walked over. It was Victoria's father, Dean Marlon.

"Dad!" Victoria seemed to have found her savior. "Look at Emma Vance! She must have hooked up with some old man and now she's showing off counterfeit goods at school!"

Dean Marlon approached, frowning with disapproval: "Victoria, all this shouting is most unbecoming... Oh, it's Miss Vance." He clearly believed his daughter's accusations without question.

"Dean Marlon," Emma took a deep breath, "I'm here today to process my leave of absence."

"Dropping out? Very well." Dean Marlon looked at her contemptuously, "A student like you would be better off finding a 'job' outside rather than wasting resources at school."

"Dad, she..." Victoria wanted to say something more.

But Dean Marlon was no longer looking at her. His gaze had fallen on Elias who stood beside Emma.

Elias just stood there quietly, but the moment Dean Marlon's eyes met his, all color drained from the dean's face in an instant.

Dean Marlon's lips began to tremble, and cold sweat suddenly appeared on his forehead.

"...Mr... Mr. Thorn?"

Elias tilted his head slightly, with not a trace of warmth in his golden eyes.

"Thud." The folder in Dean Marlon's hand fell to the ground.

He knew this man. No, in the upper echelon of power in the entire city, there was no one who didn't recognize this face. Elias Thorne—that ruthless, mysterious "emperor" who controlled the economic lifeline of the city. Rumor had it that a single word from him could bankrupt a century-old enterprise.

And he, Thorne Group, was this art academy's largest and most untouchable anonymous donor. The rumored "God" who was about to donate an entire new building.

"You... how did you... grace us with your presence... I..." Dean Marlon stammered, almost unable to stand steadily.

"Dean Marlon." Elias finally spoke, his voice flat, yet it dropped the temperature of the hall to freezing point, "My 'partner,' Emma Vance, is here to process her withdrawal from school."

Dean Marlon's mind went blank with a "buzz."

Partner?

Emma?

He looked at Emma in horror, then glanced at his own good-for-nothing daughter.

"I hope," Elias continued, "that this process... will be pleasant and efficient. I, personally, very much dislike... being disturbed."

"Yes! Yes! Of course!" Dean Marlon was terrified, he turned sharply and shouted with all his might at Victoria, who was already frightened stiff:

"Victoria! You fool! Hurry up and apologize to Miss Vance... to Mr. Thorne's guest! Apologize!"

"Dad? He..."

"Apologize!" Dean Marlon was almost in tears, "Right now! Immediately!"

Emma stood there, looking at Victoria's flushed, contorted face of disbelief, and then at the man beside her who, with just one sentence, had made the dean bow and scrape.

This was the first time she had so clearly felt the absolute power that Elias possessed, which could crush everything.

It was terrifying.

But also... strangely addictive.

"No need." Emma said coldly as she walked past Victoria and Dean Marlon who were frozen in place, "Let's go, Elias. I don't want to waste any more time here."

Elias looked at her, a satisfied curve forming at the corner of his lips.

He took her hand, and they walked toward the dean's office under everyone's fearful and reverent gazes.

…………

Fifteen minutes later, Emma, with all the leave of absence documents in hand, left the academic building with Elias.

The sunlight was somewhat harsh. Emma tightened the scarf around her neck, feeling as if she were in some absurd dream. The farce that had just occurred gave her a more complex understanding of Elias's "imprisonment" of her.

The black Bentley was quietly waiting by the roadside.

Elias opened the car door for her.

Just as Emma was about to bend down to enter the car—

"Emma!"

A hoarse voice, filled with desperation and disbelief, came from across the street.

Emma's entire body froze.

She turned around abruptly.

Liam was standing there.

He looked haggard, unshaven, with bloodshot eyes that were once full of sunshine. He had obviously been searching for her like a madman, and the school was the only place he could think of to wait for her to appear.

He saw her.

He saw the expensive coat she was wearing, the scarf around her neck, Elias beside her, and the Bentley that symbolized power and wealth.

Liam's expression, at that moment, completely shattered.