Page 12 of Wicked Prince

And if I want to survive my limited time on this conveyor belt of elites, I have to stay that way.

It takes a few seconds that feel like hours before I can bring myself to look away. Given the fact that the other students, who've been oblivious to my existence thus far, are actually looking at me in confusion, I'm not the only one who noticed… whatever the hell that was.

I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it, but as far as I can tell, he hasn't taken a seat—and when I finally venture a glance back up, he's still looking at me.

That's not what catches me off guard, though. It's the smirk on his lips as he stares me down like a hunter eyeing his prey. Like somehow, as impossible as it is, he knows who I am and for some even more unfathomable reason, that makes me interesting to him.

For the first time in my life, I'm left with the strange yet unmistakable sensation that someone has actuallyseenme, and it's not the euphoric fairytale moment I’d expected it would be.

It's fucking terrifying.

ChapterSix

AMELIA

It takes me a few seconds to process the fact that this is actually happening.

That Lorenzo fucking Rossi is actually staring at me like...

Honestly, I don't even know what. No one's ever looked at me like this before. If I was a complete egomaniac, I would be tempted to think it was desire, but this guy can have any woman he wants.

For a split second, I wonder if he knows who I am. Except that's impossible. I've never seen a Rossi in person.

Before I can completely freak out, Mr. Hennessey speaks up. "Is there something wrong, Rossi?"

I'm frozen, still staring at Lorenzo as he stares back at me, but the professor's words seem to snap him out of it.

"Yeah," he says, taking a step toward me. He takes a seat to my right, not quite next to me but close enough to trouble my frayed nerves.

"Okay," Mr. Hennessey says slowly, turning back to the board to write down a series of dates. He starts going into the major due dates and exams over the next few weeks, and he calls on someone in the front row to pass out the syllabi, but I'm having a hard time keeping my thoughts straight.

It takes me a second to realize the guy in front of me is holding out the stack of syllabi expectantly. I mutter an apology and take it from him before passing the rest on. I busy myself with at least pretending I'm looking through the course plans, but I can still feel I'm being watched and don't dare to look up to see for sure.

What the hell?

I do my best to get back on track and actually manage to scribble a few notes I'm reasonably sure will make sense later. Enough time passes that I convince myself I was just imagining things, and that's definitely the more logical, less disturbing prospect.

Then I get bold and venture a glance over at Lorenzo.

Big mistake.

He’s still watching me, albeit out of the corner of his eye, but there's no doubt. I'm not sure what the look on his face is. Somewhere between curiosity and frustration.

The moment class is dismissed, I book it for the door well before anyone else in the aisle has the chance to get up in front of me. I'm one of the first out of the room, even if it means apologizing to a couple of people I bump into by accident.

Once I round the corner down the next hall, I let myself breathe a little. I think I've actually escaped when I collide with a wall of a person, and I hear a voice that's only newly familiar.

"In a hurry?"

My spine goes rigid and I feel like I have to be dreaming as Lorenzo grabs me, which is probably the only thing keeping me off the floor. When I look up, he's smirking down at me like a god bemused by the clumsy mortal before him.

"Where the hell did you come from?" are the first words out of my mouth. Not that I imagined I would be speaking any to him.

Ever.

"This place is full of shortcuts," he says dryly. He holds onto me for a second, but when I push away, he lets me go.

"And why would you need one of those?" I challenge, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

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