Behind him, other officials nodded eagerly, their smiles just as wide, just as flattering, just as desperate to please. A woman in a blue blazer clutched a folder to her chest, her knuckles white. A man with glasses adjusted his tie nervously, pulling at the collar like it was suddenly too tight. Another man, younger than the rest, kept sneaking glances at the bodyguards, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.

"Your generous donation has transformed our technology, computer, and science departments," the dean continued, his voice trembling slightly at the edges. "We cannot thank you enough. The students are already benefiting from the new equipment. The labs are full every evening. The professors tell me the difference is night and day. And to have you here, as our honored guest, gracing us with your presence on such an important evening—"

Leo raised a hand.

The dean fell silent instantly, his mouth still open, the next words dying on his tongue.

Leo did not smile. He did not frown. He simply looked at the dean, his gray eyes cool and assessing, like a hawk examining a mouse. The flattery did not move him. The praise did not touch him. He had heard it all before, from people who wanted something, who needed something, who hoped to get something from him. It was always the same. Always predictable.

He nodded once. A short, curt gesture, neither friendly nor unfriendly. Just acknowledgment.

Then he looked past the dean toward the auditorium.

Bodyguards materialized around him, forming a protective circle. They were large men in dark suits, their faces expressionless, their eyes scanning the crowd for threats. They moved like shadows, silent and synchronized, their training evident in every step. Earpieces curled into their ears. Subtle bulges beneath their jackets suggested weapons. They had been with Leo for years, through wars, negotiations, and everything in between.

They moved with Leo as he walked, creating a bubble of space around him that no one dared enter. Students stepped aside. Parents pressed themselves against walls. Professors held their breath. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The dean and the other officials fell into step behind him, their flattering smiles still in place, though their eyes were wary now. They had been dismissed, and they knew it. But they followed anyway, because that was what people did when Leo Moretti walked into a room.

Leo walked toward the auditorium, his long legs eating up the ground, his eyes fixed on the entrance.

After Leo disappeared into the auditorium, the university officials let out a collective breath. The dean wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, dabbing at the sweat that had gathered on his brow. The woman in the blue blazer adjusted her collar, her fingers trembling slightly. The man with glasses straightened his tie, pulling it tight against his throat.

Then another group of cars pulled up.

The dean’s eyes widened. He exchanged a quick, panicked glance with his colleagues, then hurried back toward the driveway, his polished shoes slapping against the pavement.

The cars were expensive and gleaming under the setting sun. They were not as many as Leo’s, only three, but they held their own kind of elegance. The doors opened in unison, like a choreographed dance.

A man stepped out of the middle car.

He had blonde hair, cut short and styled neatly, the kind of blonde that looked natural and sun kissed, the kind that came from growing up near the ocean. His eyes were a striking blue, sharp and intelligent, framed by dark lashes that made them stand out even more. His face was gorgeous, with high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and lips curved in a pleasant, easy smile that seemed genuine, though no one could be sure.

He wore a black suit, tailored to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The fabric was expensive, the kind that moved with him rather than against him. His white shirt was crisp, unbuttoned at the collar, showing a hint of his collarbone. No tie. His shoes were black leather, polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the fading light.

Behind him, a woman emerged from the same car. She was wearing a blue dress that fell to her knees, the fabric shimmering under the lights like water. Her dark hair was styled in loose waves, cascading over her shoulders and brushing against her elbows. Her makeup was subtle but elegant, highlighting her brown eyes and her soft pink lips. She looked like she belonged on a red carpet, not a college campus.

"Mr. Davies!" the dean exclaimed, his voice even louder than before. He rushed forward, his arms outstretched in welcome, his smile wide and desperate. "Thank you so much for coming! Your presence truly makes our college shine! We are honored, truly honored, to have you here tonight."

He repeated the same things he had told Leo.

Samuel Davies smiled. It was a pleasant smile, warm and easy, the kind of smile that put people at ease, that made them forget they were nervous. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Your generous donation has transformed our technology, computer, and science departments," the dean continued, his voice trembling slightly at the edges. He was sweating again, despite the cool evening air and the gentle breeze. "We cannot thank you enough. The students are already benefiting from the new equipment. The labs are full every evening. The professors tell me the difference is night and day. And to have you here, as our honored guest, gracing us with your presence on such an important evening—"

The woman in the blue blazer shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes twitched. She clutched her folder tighter, her knuckles white. She glanced at the dean, then at Samuel, then back at the dean. Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked like she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

Samuel raised his hand.

The dean fell silent instantly, his mouth still open, his words cut off mid sentence.

Samuel’s smile did not waver. His blue eyes swept over the officials, over the crowd of students who had gathered to watch, over the flashing cameras and the whispered rumors. He seemed amused, though his expression gave nothing away.

"Lead the way," he said, his voice deep and smooth like honey over gravel.

The woman in the blue dress stepped forward, slipping her arm through his. She smiled at the cameras, practiced and poised, tilting her head just so. Students whispered behind their hands, recognizing her from movies, from magazines, from television. She was an actress, someone said. A model, someone else corrected. Either way, she was famous, and she knew it.

Samuel glanced at her, then back at the dean.

The dean nodded quickly, stepping aside to let them pass. He gestured toward the auditorium with a trembling hand. "Of course, of course. Right this way, Mr. Davies. Right this way."