Chapter 302: The Weight of a Name

Classic barely had time to process the presence of his father's guards before a voice cut through the tension.

"Carry me. I don't want to walk."

He turned his head slightly, already knowing who it was.

Victoria Laurent.

Daughter of a powerful European banking dynasty. Born into obscene wealth. Untouchable in the eyes of most.

She stood there, arms crossed, her expensive designer boots sinking slightly into the forest dirt. Her emerald-green eyes held that usual mix of boredom and expectation.

Classic exhaled sharply.

"You're joking."

Victoria arched a brow. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

She held out her arms slightly, as if waiting.

Around them, whispers erupted.

"Did she just—?"

"Laurent really has no shame."

"Is she actually asking Classic Blackwood to carry her?"

Classic ignored the noise. His patience was already thin.

His father's guards. The unnecessary power play. And now this?

Victoria tapped her foot. "Well?"

Classic took a step closer, his voice dropping to something lower, quieter—but sharp.

"You have two options." His eyes locked onto hers. "You walk like everyone else… or you find out what happens when you demand things from a Blackwood."

A challenge.

The air between them crackled.

Victoria tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips.

She liked danger.

And Classic Blackwood was the most dangerous person here.

"Fine," she finally said, rolling her eyes. "I'll walk. But only because I'm feeling generous."

Classic shook his head and turned away, already walking toward the tents.

But in the back of his mind, something told him—Victoria Laurent wasn't done with him yet.