Chapter 3: The Storm Has a Name

Mark's POV

I knew today was going to be a mess the moment I walked into class.

The usual chaos—guys messing around, cigarettes burning, and the same old boredom settling in. Nothing ever changed in Class D. Until she walked in.

Ariana Francisca Navarro Ramirez.

The moment she said that name, the whole room shifted.

I didn't move, didn't react—but inside, alarms were ringing. Ramirez. That name wasn't just familiar. It was trouble.

And judging by Alex's sudden silence, he was thinking the same thing.

Ethan Rafael Ramirez. Her cousin.

Ethan was reckless, arrogant, a pain in the ass. And now, his blood was standing in front of us, smirking like she wasn't just walking into enemy territory.

That was bold.

I leaned back, studying her. She didn't shrink under the attention. Didn't hesitate. She was nothing like Ethan—not in the way she carried herself. She didn't act like she had something to prove. She acted like she already won.

Interesting.

But confidence meant nothing in Class D. This place didn't care about last names. It didn't care who you were. It only cared if you could survive.

Alex was still tapping his fingers against his desk, watching her like he was calculating something.

"She's Ethan's cousin," one of the guys muttered near me.

"Yeah, but is she like him?" someone else whispered.

Good question. I didn't answer.

Instead, I just watched. Because if she was anything like Ethan, this was going to get ugly.

And if she wasn't?

...That might be even worse.