Chapter 6
613words
Everything took on a sweet, dreamlike quality.
Alex proved handsome, considerate, and attentive—like a perfect spring rain falling exactly when and where she needed it most.
Yet occasionally, in rare quiet moments, an inexplicable unease would ripple through her contentment like a stone disturbing still water.
This feeling of being "cherished" manifested most clearly in public spaces around campus.
Wednesday afternoon, Emma chatted with classmates after lecture when Ben—always good-natured and friendly—patted her shoulder with a laugh. "Emma, your question totally stumped the professor. Brilliant!"
It was harmless banter. Emma opened her mouth to fire back a witty response when a figure materialized beside her.
Alex. He'd been waiting outside—for how long, she couldn't say.
With a smile that didn't reach his eyes, he casually pulled Emma half a step behind him while moving forward, creating a barrier between her and Ben.
"Ben," Alex's voice remained soft but carried unmistakable steel, "Emma simply thinks carefully before speaking. I don't believe it requires such… enthusiastic commentary."
The hallway plunged into awkward silence. Ben's smile froze as he stared at Alex, clearly confused by the disproportionate response. Her classmates exchanged uncomfortable glances as tension thickened the air.
Heat flooded Emma's face. She hadn't needed "rescuing," and Ben had meant well. Alex's behavior wrapped around her like an airtight net—disguised as protection but slowly suffocating her social life.
"Look, Emma, isn't Alex a bit… intense about protecting you?"
In the campus café, Emma's friend Chloe asked while lazily stirring her cappuccino.
"He's just concerned about me," Emma replied, not quite believing it herself.
Chloe pursed her lips. "Concerned? I'd call it something else." She stabbed at her foam with a straw and lowered her voice. "You should know Alex has quite the reputation as a 'damsel rescuer.'"
"What are you talking about?" Emma frowned.
"Exactly what it sounds like." Chloe shrugged. "He has a type—girls who seem… I don't know, in need of saving? Vulnerable? A bit lost and lonely?"
Chloe sipped her coffee before adding: "I'm not judging. It's just… weird, you know? Like he gets off on the whole 'knight in shining armor' routine."
Chloe's words detonated like a precision bomb, igniting all the anxieties Emma had desperately tried to bury.
Back in her apartment, Emma sat in darkness.
She opened her laptop, its harsh glow illuminating her bloodless face.
In the search box, she typed "Alexander Romano" one letter at a time.
Results flooded her screen—business tycoon profiles, acquisition analyses, charity gala photos.
All carefully curated PR.
Emma refined her search: "Alexander Romano" + "Sponsorship".
A name appeared.
Sophia Dubois.
An art magazine interview from three years ago: "Birth of an Emerging Painter: Sophia Dubois and Her Mysterious Patron."
In the article, Sophia thanked an anonymous "sponsor" who funded her studio during her darkest days and arranged her first solo exhibition.
In the photo, Sophia stood before a vibrant canvas, smiling brilliantly—yet her eyes held a vulnerability Emma instantly recognized: the lingering fragility of someone who'd been rescued.
Emma's fingers went numb.
She dug deeper.
Isabella Rossi, an independent fashion designer who launched her brand two years ago with mysterious "angel investment."
Catherine Lee, a cellist who'd received a full Juilliard scholarship last year—from a foundation primarily funded by Romano Group.
All extraordinarily talented.
All fallen on desperate times.
All young and beautiful.
The pattern crystallized before her eyes, cold and undeniable.
Alex was a collector, carefully selecting talented "pieces" on the verge of ruin, then using his wealth and power to restore them to brilliance.
And she, Emma Sterling, was merely his latest acquisition.
