The inside of the car was pure luxury.
Black leather seats.
Blue ambient lighting that glowed like moonlight.
A soft hum from the engine — powerful, alive.
The smell of expensive cologne and leather filled the space.
It was nothing like anything Elian Frost had ever touched, sat in, or even dreamed of.
He sat stiffly beside Celestine, feeling like a stray dog that had wandered into a royal banquet.
The car started moving without any driver.
Elian stared at the steering wheel.
Celestine chuckled softly.
"Autonomous," she said. "AI-controlled."
Of course it was.
Because why wouldn't the most beautiful, dangerous girl in school have a car that drove itself like something out of a science fiction movie?
Elian clutched his frayed backpack like a life raft.
Outside the window, the broken, crumbling streets of his neighborhood blurred past.
Street vendors.
Boarded-up shops.
Faded graffiti.
Kids riding rusty bikes, shouting curses.
The world he knew — the world that had beaten him down for seventeen long years — slipped away, mile by mile.
---
"Where are we going?" he asked finally, his voice hoarse.
Celestine leaned back against the seat, crossing her long, perfect legs.
She wore a short black skirt, a deep red sweater, and black ankle boots — looking like a magazine cover brought to life.
"Home," she said simply.
Elian stared at her.
"Your home?" he blurted.
Celestine smiled — a slow, secretive smile that made his stomach twist in knots.
"Yours too," she whispered.
He opened his mouth to argue, to protest, to beg for sense — but the words stuck.
Because deep down...
A small, dangerous part of him wanted to believe it.
Wanted to believe that for once, something in this ugly, brutal world could belong to him.
---
The city changed as they drove.
The broken buildings gave way to glittering skyscrapers.
Homeless tents gave way to glowing luxury hotels.
Rusty bicycles gave way to sleek sports cars with number plates like:
"GODMODE"
"BILL1ONAIRE"
"LU$T"
It wasn't just wealth.
It was obscene, vulgar wealth.
The kind that didn't just scream power — it rubbed it in your face and dared you to say something.
Elian shrank into his seat.
He didn't belong here.
He would never belong here.
But Celestine just hummed a little song under her breath, as relaxed as a cat.
"Get used to it," she murmured.
Elian swallowed hard.
The car pulled into an underground parking garage so clean, so polished, he could see his terrified reflection on the floor.
And then it stopped.
The door opened automatically.
Celestine stepped out first.
Her heels clicked against the floor with ruthless elegance.
Elian hesitated.
Then, heart pounding, he followed.
---
The elevator ride was silent.
At least until Celestine pulled out a small black card and tapped it against the reader.
The elevator shuddered — and then shot upward so fast Elian almost lost his balance.
The numbers blurred.
20th floor.
30th floor.
40th floor.
Higher and higher.
When it finally stopped, the doors slid open with a soft ding.
Elian stepped out into a dream.
---
It wasn't an apartment.
It wasn't even a penthouse.
It was a palace in the sky.
Glass walls.
White marble floors.
A grand piano.
Oil paintings bigger than entire walls.
A chandelier that looked like it cost more than Elian's entire life.
And the view...
God, the view.
The entire city stretched out below them, glittering like a sea of stars.
It was so beautiful it hurt.
Elian stood frozen at the entrance, afraid to even breathe.
Celestine laughed.
She turned to him, eyes dancing.
"Welcome home," she said.
---
"Why are you doing this?" he choked out.
His voice sounded small in the cavernous space.
Celestine's smile faded a little.
She stepped closer.
Close enough that he could smell her perfume — something dark and intoxicating.
Close enough to see the tiny scar just below her left ear.
She reached out.
Tugged gently on his backpack strap.
"Because you belong to me now, Elian Frost," she said softly.
"And because..."
She leaned closer, until her breath brushed his ear.
"There are people who would kill you if you stayed out there one more night."
Elian froze.
Every hair on his body stood up.
"What do you mean?"
Celestine pulled back, her face unreadable.
"You're worth more than you know," she said.
"And not everyone wants you alive to find out."
---
Before he could speak, a soft chime echoed through the apartment.
Celestine turned her head, frowning slightly.
"Stay here," she ordered.
Then she walked away, her boots clicking sharply against the marble.
Elian stood frozen.
Terrified.
Confused.
Worth more than you know.
People who want me dead.
None of it made sense.
Not yet.
But deep down, a part of him knew:
This was only the beginning.
The real nightmare hadn't even started yet.
---