Kain Ortego

An angry look

It was an ordinary autumn day, with leaves swirling in a golden circle over the gray college paths. The air filled the city with spicy aromas—it had its own magic, its own quiet charm, barely perceptible amid the noise of traffic and the bustle of students.

A young seventeen-year-old girl crossed the threshold of the educational institution for the first time. Her eyes shone with timid curiosity, her heart pounded anxiously: a new chapter in her life was about to begin. She walked slowly, as if afraid to disturb the silence of the ancient corridors, where the walls held the whispers of generations of graduates.

The boy stood slightly apart from the crowd of first-years, leaning his shoulder against the cool marble of a column. Tall, broad-shouldered, with ash-colored hair, he gazed off into the distance, past people, past objects, as if nothing existed around him. His figure radiated strength, cold, implacable, drawing the attention of everyone who passed by.

This man was a mystery even to the teachers. They knew only one thing: no one dared approach him after the first few days of school. The boy rarely spoke, hardly smiled, and had no friends. He exuded such an overwhelming energy of anger that everyone instinctively sensed danger. No one knew exactly why he fought more often than others, or where this hatred for the entire world came from, but the fear of him was deeply rooted.

The girl noticed him immediately. First, fleetingly, out of the corner of her eye, then she looked again more closely. She became curious to know who this strange young man was, staring straight through her with his dark gaze. Why was he so lonely? What was hidden behind that mask of cold disdain?

Every time she passed by, she felt the boy's heavy gaze on her. Gradually, these glances became more frequent and lingered longer. The girl felt a strange attraction, despite the inner voice that spoke of risk and danger.

Son of the mafia. Sociopath.