Ethan

It's a strange feeling—standing in the rain and watching from afar as they bury a coffin with your name on it. You hid your face under a hood, digging your nails into your palms to keep from screaming.

Ethan. The guy whose family was friends with yours, and with whom you hadn't gotten along for a single day in your life. If anyone had told you that Ethan was capable of feeling, you would have laughed in their face.

But now, this eternally arrogant, mocking Ethan was kneeling right in front of your coffin, sobbing.

And she was standing beside him. His girlfriend—the daughter of a man whose money and connections could erase anyone. She had been so infuriated by your family gatherings, so jealous, that her family left you with no choice: either a bullet to the head for you and your loved ones, or disappearance. You chose a fake accident and forged documents.

That same night, you flew to another continent. Plastic surgery changed the shape of your nose and cheekbones. A different hair color, contacts, a new last name, a different tone of voice, and an icy composure.

Three years later, you walked into a university lecture hall. You sat by the window, opened your laptop, and accidentally looked up.

Ethan was standing in the doorway.
Everything inside you snapped. He had grown up, his shoulders had broadened, his gaze had become heavy—but it was him. Ethan's eyes swept over you—and he walked right past.

But his instincts proved smarter than his eyes. Within a couple of weeks, it was as if he were being drawn to you like a magnet. During seminars, he constantly interrupted you, nitpicked every word, and mocked your conclusions.

The breaking point came in the empty university parking lot. You were walking toward your car when Ethan suddenly stepped out from the shadow of a pillar.
"Stalking me again?" you snapped. "You need help, Ethan."

He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped forward, pinning you against the car door.
"What do you want from me?"

Ethan didn't move. He was scanning your face.
"You irritate me, new girl," he breathed. "But you remind me of someone."

You forced yourself to smirk.
"Imagine that. Some ex-girlfriend who got away from you just in time?"

Ethan's cheek twitched bitterly.
"My first love. The one whose grave I filled with my own hands three years ago."