Chapter 40

The entire school was in an uproar the next morning. Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire—Celeste Fairburne had arrived.

The moment she stepped onto the school grounds, all eyes were on her. She was a vision of elegance, her golden hair cascading in soft waves, her ice-blue eyes glistening under the morning sun. Dressed in a designer ensemble that accentuated her regal aura, she moved with the grace of a goddess, every step deliberate, every gaze filled with quiet confidence.

She was no ordinary student. Celeste Fairburne was the daughter of an elite family, second only to Mira Caldwell in the socialite world, a young woman raised among wealth, power, and prestige. She had been admired, adored, and envied her entire life.

And now, she was here for one reason—to remind Zamiel Van Zendt of his place beside her.

As she walked through the halls, a few girls quickly gathered around her, eager to be associated with someone of her status. They whispered about the latest gossip, their voices dripping with excitement.

"The heir of the Van Zendt family and some no-name girl?" one sneered.

"She's nothing compared to you, Celeste. Just a country bumpkin."

Celeste smiled faintly, allowing their words to fuel her ego. Of course, there was no way someone like Zamiel would be serious about a commoner. This was merely a temporary distraction, nothing more. Once he saw her again, once he was reminded of what real beauty and class looked like, he would come back to his senses.

However, hours passed, and Zamiel had yet to make an appearance.

Celeste was growing impatient. She had expected him to arrive earlier, if not to meet her, then at least to acknowledge her presence. But there was nothing—no grand entrance, no casual run-in, nothing.

She sighed, keeping her frustration in check. No matter. She would wait.

As she strolled down the hallway with a few of her new acquaintances, she suddenly noticed a change in the atmosphere. The chatter died down, and the girls beside her straightened their backs, lowering their heads as if in the presence of royalty.

Then, she saw her.

Athasia.

Celeste had prepared herself to look unimpressed, but the moment her eyes landed on the girl, something in her wavered.

She wasn't expecting this.

Athasia was stunning. Breathtaking. The kind of beauty that didn't rely on extravagant clothing or heavy makeup. Her long platinum hair gleamed under the soft school lights, her glowing green eyes carrying an air of mystery. Every step she took exuded confidence, an effortless grace that made even the most privileged of students instinctively lower their heads as she passed.

Celeste clenched her fists.

She had walked into this school expecting to be the most captivating woman in the room, but standing before her was someone she could not outshine. Not with wealth, not with status, not with anything she had relied on her entire life.

Then, the final blow came.

As Athasia approached, the girls around Celeste immediately bowed their heads, greeting her in unison.

"Good afternoon, Athasia."

The way they said it—with fear, with reverence—sent a chill down Celeste's spine.

Athasia didn't even glance at her. She walked past her without so much as acknowledging her presence.

Celeste's carefully crafted poise nearly shattered.

This was the girl Zamiel was with? The girl he chose over her?

Her nails dug into her palm as she fought to keep her expression neutral.

This wasn't over. Not yet.