chapter [7]: public school (1)

Roman clenched his jaw as the wrench in his hand clattered against the metal, his patience wearing thin. "Get me the pliers," he repeated, his voice taut but controlled.

Kayla blinked at him, her gaze vacant as she furrowed her brow. "What's... a pliers?" she asked, her voice hesitant as she idly tugged at the hem of her designer top.

Roman's frustration flared, but he suppressed it, his fingers tightening around the tool in his hand. How does she not know what pliers are? he thought, resisting the urge to scoff. He looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Are you serious?" His tone was flat, tinged with disbelief. "The pliers—the tool I asked you to bring me? It's in the toolbox... you know, the one right in front of you?"

Kayla blinked again, her cheeks flushing in mild embarrassment. She bit her lip, a little defensive now. "I don't know everything about tools, Roman. What do you want from me?"

Roman's gaze softened for a moment, the defensive edge in her voice striking a nerve. He'd let his temper get the better of him. She wasn't some underling to scold or belittle. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean it like that," he muttered.

But Kayla wasn't backing down. She crossed her arms and glared at him, her eyes narrowing with a touch of indignation. "I don't need you to lecture me on things I don't know, okay? Just because you've been raised with grease and tools doesn't mean I should know the same." Her voice trembled as she fought back the sting of embarrassment. "It's not my fault I don't know how to fix cars."

The words stung more than he expected. His lips parted to apologize, but before he could say anything, she continued.

"You think I'm just some pampered princess who doesn't know the first thing about hard work?" she snapped, her voice catching in a mixture of anger and hurt. "I didn't ask for this, okay? I didn't ask to be born into a family where everything is handed to me. So don't treat me like I'm less than you because of it." Her eyes burned with frustration as she turned away, blinking rapidly to stave off the tears threatening to spill.

Roman's heart lurched, the bitterness of his words turning in his stomach. He hadn't meant to make her feel this small. He wanted to snap something back, to defend himself, but his throat felt tight, his anger draining in the face of her vulnerability.

But before he could speak, she whirled around, her face a storm of emotion. "You—" She stepped forward and, without warning, slammed her heel onto his foot.

Roman sucked in a sharp breath, wincing in pain. "Kayla!" he growled, anger surging again.

"That's for trash-talking me," she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she whipped her hair around in a dramatic swirl, her heels clicking on the concrete floor as she stormed off.

Roman stood there, momentarily stunned, the sting of her retaliation sinking in as Akim's quiet laughter echoed from the doorway.

The evening meal that followed was strained, the silence between them almost suffocating. Kayla sat at the table, pushing her food around absentmindedly, the fork in her hand untouched. Her mind was elsewhere—her thoughts a whirlwind of anger, frustration, and confusion.

"This place is so small," she muttered under her breath, pushing her chair back with a screech as she stood. "This is... this is ridiculous. It's a nightmare! Why am I even here?"

Akim paused mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air, while Roman's grip on his own utensils tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Then leave," Roman said coolly, his tone cutting through the tension. "No one's forcing you to stay."

Kayla froze, the venom in his words catching her off guard. The atmosphere in the room shifted—stifling, heavy. She could feel her chest tightening as the weight of his indifference sank in.

Akim glanced between them before exhaling. "She's not gonna last here if you keep pushing her like that."

Kayla didn't say anything more. She simply stood there, her eyes locking with Roman's for a heartbeat longer before she walked out of the house, her footsteps echoing through the dimly lit hallway before the door slammed shut with a resounding thud.

---

The streets outside felt colder than before. Kayla walked briskly, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, the harsh night air biting into her skin. Her heart pounded, the distant sounds of life around her doing little to soothe the anxiety creeping in. Why did I storm out like that? She cursed herself inwardly, feeling both foolish and reckless. Now look at me—lost in some unknown part of the city.

She took a sharp turn down a narrow alley, her mind racing with thoughts of Roman, her own guilt, and the weight of everything she hadn't said. But then, the sound of voices reached her ears, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. She turned a corner, only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw three men loitering by a graffiti-covered wall. One of them—a burly man with a shaved head—caught her eye and smirked, his expression predatory.

"Hey there, princess," he drawled, his voice laced with malice. "Lost?"

Her heart hammered in her chest as panic surged within her. I need to get away from here—now.

She forced her voice to sound steady, though it cracked slightly. "No. I—I'm fine. Just... going this way." She tried to sidestep, but they moved to block her path.

One of them grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "C'mon, sweetheart. No need to be shy. We're just tryin' to help."

Kayla stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat. She raised her hands, trying to steady herself, her legs shaking. She thought back to the self-defense classes her father had paid for, but now it all seemed so useless.

"I—I know Tai Chi! Black belt," she blurted out, even as doubt crept in.

The men only laughed, a low, dangerous sound that sent a chill through her. She took another step back, her vision blurring with fear.

But just as quickly, the men faltered, their eyes widening. They turned on their heels and sprinted away, vanishing into the night.

Kayla's heart was still racing when she turned around. There, standing just behind her, was Roman. His dark jacket hung loosely over his shoulders, his presence intimidating in the dim light.

"Roman…" she whispered, a mix of relief and humiliation flooding through her.

He didn't say anything, merely stepped forward, draping his jacket over her shoulders. Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him.

Kayla's face burned with embarrassment, but she clung to him, the tears that had been threatening to fall now freely streaming down her cheeks. "I—"

"Shh," Roman murmured, his voice surprisingly soft. "It's okay. You're safe now."

---

The next morning, the silence in the dining room was palpable. Kayla sat quietly, her thoughts whirling as she absentmindedly poked at her breakfast.

"Tomorrow," Roman said suddenly, breaking the silence, "we're enrolling you in a public school."

Kayla looked up in surprise, uncertainty clouding her expression. "Public school?"

Roman nodded. "Yeah. My school."

Akim chimed in, offering a smile of reassurance. "It'll be fine."

Roman's gaze softened, though his words remained firm. "You'll have to get used to it."

Kayla hesitated but eventually nodded, a deep sigh escaping her lips. "Okay. I'll be there."

As the conversation settled, Kayla's thoughts drifted back to Roman's earlier words—his harshness, his coldness—and yet, somewhere beneath it, she could feel something real. Something unexpected.