Amber's P.O.V.:

It was 10:25 a.m. when I arrived at the Open Library. I glanced around, but there was no sign of him.

"Meet me at the Open Library tomorrow sharp at 10.30 am," I mocked his words, trying to lighten the situation.

Just as I finished mimicking him, I heard a throat-clearing sound. I turned around and felt my breath catch as I saw him standing there. He wore a white V-neck t-shirt under a black jacket, looking freshly groomed.

His intense gaze made me nervous, so I shifted on the spot. Anxiously, I extended my hand for a handshake, although I had a feeling he wouldn't accept it due to his pride. And, true enough, he ignored my gesture and walked past me.

I rolled my eyes and followed him to a nearby bench. He took a seat, and I sat across from him, feeling uneasy under his continued scrutiny.

"So, you wanted to meet me?" I asked, realizing that he wasn't going to initiate the conversation and was content with just staring at me.

His gaze lingered for a while before he finally spoke. "We're assigned to work together on this project, but I'm really not interested in collaborating with you. Don't expect any help from me on this project," he stated matter-of-factly before getting up to leave.

What the hell!

"Firstly, I wasn't expecting any help from you to complete this project. And secondly, go to hell!" I retorted angrily and walked away without waiting to see his reaction.

"What does he think of himself? He can't boss me around. First, he shouted at me in his apartment that day, and now he's backing out of the project. 'Don't expect any help from me in completing this project,'" I muttered to myself, mocking his words.

Suddenly, I felt a strong grip on my upper arm, and I was pulled with such force that I grunted in pain and stumbled on my feet.

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded, my anger mounting as I tried to regain my balance.

He still had a tight grip on my arms, and it was becoming painful. I raised my voice, shouting, "Let go of me!" But it had no effect as he closed the distance between us, and I could feel his minty breath on my face.

"What... what do you want?" I managed to whisper, my voice trembling. I stared into his eyes, which were now filled with anger, and fear coursed through me.

"Listen to me carefully, A. Nobody talks to me in that tone. Nobody! And, B. Don't mimic me from now on. I hate it! Do you understand?" he said in a dangerously strong and husky voice.

I was too shocked and scared to respond immediately, and he snapped at me again, tightening his grip on my arms. It jolted me back to reality, and I nodded my head vigorously.

"Good!" he said slowly, a smirk forming on his lips.

He released my arms, shoving me slightly, causing me to stumble once more before he walked away, leaving me shaken and disoriented.

I examined my arms, which were badly bruised from his tight grip.

"What does he think of himself?" I muttered to myself, watching as he walked away.

*****

"Can I please change my partner for the project?" I asked Prof. Louis Gradenerr, who was busy on his laptop typing something.

"I'm afraid, Ms. Milburn, but you can't," he replied without even looking up from his laptop.

"Sir, the scholarship is really important to me. I can't miss this opportunity just because my partner isn't willing to help me. Isn't there anything that can be done?" I asked, expectantly.

"I don't think so," he replied, with zero sympathy.

I was about to leave his office disappointed when I noticed that somebody had been seated in the chair opposite the professor the entire time. He looked up at me with a smile that quickly faded, and then I exited.

As I walked away, I heard somebody calling me.

"Ms. Milburn, wait..." I turned around and found the same guy from the professor's office standing in front of me.

"Yes?" I asked, confused.

"I overheard your conversation with Prof. Gardenerr. I'm Mark Austin, an MBA student. I think I might be able to help you with this project," he said with a smile.

He was about 6 feet tall, a handsome guy with dimples on his cheeks when he smiled.

I looked at him with confusion and asked, "But the professor said that nothing can be done about my problem."

"Not officially, but unofficially," he replied.

"Unofficially?" I asked, still puzzled.

"The project guidelines say that you need to work in a group of two to complete the project, but it doesn't specify that you can't take help from a third person," he explained, smiling proudly.

"But why would you help me?"

"Maybe because I like the way you smile," he grinned at me flirtatiously.

I confess that I started blushing after his comment. He seemed like a nice and genuine guy, at least better than Mr. "Don't mimic me."

Why the hell am I thinking about him? Arghh...Shut up, you, mini-me!

*****

Two days later

"Elsa, please don't force me. I don't want to go to his apartment again. The experience I had the last time was enough for me," I said as I continued jotting down a few important notes from the internet for my project, while Elsa stood in front of me dressed in her black shorts and white tank top.

"But Oliver has thrown this party for us. We won the titles at the freshers' night, and he wanted to celebrate it. Moreover, I like him a lot. Please come with me," she said, making a puppy face.

I thought for a while and felt sorry for being such a selfish friend. Elsa had never said no to anything I asked her to do, and here I was ignoring her request just because of my silly ego.

I smiled and said, "Let's go then." It made her jump in excitement. I closed my laptop and got into the shower to get ready. I chose to wear a casual button-down denim dress with a loose white woollen top inside and paired it with brown ankle-length boots. I did light makeup and put on my glasses. Can't do anything without them.

****

We reached Oliver's place in about 20 minutes and were now waiting for him to open the door. After a few seconds, he greeted us at the door. Elsa hugged him, and I gave him a side hug before entering his apartment.

I just hoped I wouldn't run into him at all tonight. I was already frustrated from working on the project non-stop for the last two days. The last thing I wanted was to encounter him and spoil my mood.

I walked toward the snacks counter and started munching on some snacks, while Elsa and Oliver greeted our other friends who were already there.

"Nice to see you here, Amber. Wasn't expecting you to be here," Mark said as he approached me with a soft drink in his hand.

"Hey, nice to see you too," I replied with a smile.

He stood beside me, and we began chatting.

"You look really cute today," he complimented, making me blush.

I thanked him and continued enjoying my snacks. I could sense someone watching me. I looked around and spotted Chris standing in a corner with a few girls around him. His gaze was directed toward me, and if I wasn't mistaken, he was tightly gripping his glass. Poor glass!

There's definitely something off about him and his eyes. Why does he keep glaring at me?

"Hey, I need to use the restroom," I told Mark and excused myself.

I walked over to Oliver and Elsa and asked Oliver for directions to the restroom. Throughout this, I felt Chris's gaze still on me.

Ignoring his gaze, I walked in the direction of the restroom. After finishing my business and washing my hands, I made my way back to the party area. As I walked down the corridor, I saw Chris leaning against the wall, still holding his glass of wine and staring at it intensely.I considered ignoring him and continuing to the party, but he spoke up.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here, not after how I humiliated you the first time you came here."I turned sharply towards him, irritated.

"This apartment isn't just yours. I'm here for Oliver, not you. So don't think you're that important," I snapped.

He smirked and continued, "Seems like you can't get enough of my humiliations.""You...!" I stopped myself from saying more.

"You know what? I don't want to waste my time talking to you. I'm going back to the party. I won't let you ruin my mood," I declared.

"Hey, I almost forgot to ask, how's your little project going? I heard you found someone to help you with it," he said, smirking.

I turned around and glared at him.

"That's none of your business. I can complete the project on my own. I don't need your help. Now, if you're done talking, I'm leaving," I retorted.

"All the best with that!" he said, still smirking.

"All the best with that!" I mimicked mockingly. Before he could react, I ran away from him. I could hear him saying, "Don't mimic me!" loudly, but I kept running until I reached the party. That was a narrow escape! I sighed in relief.

*********

"Mark, I don't think we'll be able to complete the project on time. Tomorrow is the deadline, and we haven't even finished half of it. You've helped me a lot. Thanks for that, but I am really scared," I said with a sense of defeat in my voice.

"Hey, don't worry, okay? You'll make it. I trust you," Mark reassured me, placing his hand on my shoulder for support.

I felt like someone was watching us, but when I looked around, I didn't see anyone. I must have been too exhausted to imagine things. I pushed that feeling aside and focused on my laptop, determined to get as much work done as possible.

*****

I had been working on the project continuously for the last four days, and I needed to submit it tonight before midnight. Although Mark had been a great help, and I had put in my best effort, something about the report still didn't feel quite right. I didn't have much time left; it was already 7 in the evening. I didn't know how to improve the report further. Lost in thought, I noticed Oliver approaching me.

"Hey, Amber. How are you?" he asked.

"I'm good, just thinking about the project," I replied, eyeing the file in his hands.

"What's that? Have you already completed your project?" I inquired, looking at the file.

"My project is almost done. But I'm sure it's hopeless," he chuckled.

I laughed along with him. "Then what's that file in your hand?" I asked.

Oliver handed it to me and explained, "This file is for you. My brother told me to give it to you. I'm getting late, so I've got to go. You can see for yourself what's in this file. See ya!" he said, walking away.

I opened the file and realized it was our project file, with our topic written in bold letters on the first page. So, he had already been working on it. But why hadn't he told me earlier? I didn't want to accept his favor. I had already completed my project, and that's what I was going to submit. Without even turning the remaining pages of the file, I closed it.

*****

"Shit! Why isn't my laptop working?" I exclaimed in frustration."What happened?" Elsa asked.

"I've been trying to open it, but it isn't starting. I needed to copy my project folder onto the pendrive to get the printouts. I only have 30 minutes left to take the printouts and submit them in the office," I explained, attempting to fix my laptop to no avail.

"Now what will you do? Hey, maybe Mark has a copy with him?" Elsa suggested optimistically.

"No, he doesn't. I already messaged and asked him, but he said he doesn't have any copy of the project," I replied, looking at my malfunctioning laptop with disappointment.

*****

15 minutes later

"Amber, now you have only one option left," Elsa said, looking at Chris' file on my table."I know," I sighed.

I picked up the file from the table and left the dormitory, heading towards the submission department to turn it in. As I walked, I opened the file and began reading it. I was surprised to see how professionally it was written and prepared. Every page, graph, holograph, and other key elements were crafted as if they were created by an experienced professional. Did Chris really make this?

The project included everything that was missing from my previous submission. My project had all the necessary components, but it looked like the work of a freshman, which was accurate since I had created it. In contrast, this project looked incredibly professional and far superior to what I had prepared. I finally breathed a sigh of relief after reading the entire file.I hurried to the submission office and managed to submit the file just in time.

****

Did he really create that report? How is that possible? It appeared so professional. I heard he came from a wealthy background. Maybe one of his employees at his company made it. Yes, that could be the case. Otherwise, how could an MBA student produce such a professional report? Perhaps I'm overthinking it. But the information I've gathered about him so far doesn't paint a picture of him as a genius student.

Arghh...stop thinking so much about it, Amber, I scolded myself.

"Amber, let's go out and explore the city. We haven't had a chance to tour it yet, even though we've been here for over a month. Let's go today!" Elsa suggested excitedly.

"I think you're right, Elsa. We should definitely go out and explore the city. I've been thinking about taking a break from our hectic schedule too," I agreed as I stretched my body, which had been aching from sitting in one position for so long. All my hard work on the project had gone to waste, and I had to submit a file that was apparently prepared by Chris. I still couldn't wrap my head around it. Even if I were to receive the scholarship, I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy it because this project wasn't made by me or my project partner, Chris Collins. I was sure he had it prepared by someone with experience.

After about an hour, we were out in the city, wandering around, shopping, and enjoying the sun. It felt incredibly relaxing. I had finally gotten the much-needed break.

****

Slowly, a few days passed by. I didn't see Chris much around the university, but whenever I did, I made sure to hide so that I wouldn't have to deal with him. He was a serial absentee, attending only a few classes, as far as I knew. I couldn't help but wonder why he was wasting his parents' money.

I was in the library, reading one of the business magazines, when I sensed someone nearby. I looked up and found Mark standing in front of me.

"Hey, you're here?" I asked.

"Yes. Our exams are approaching, so I thought I'd come here to start preparing... may I?" he said as he took a seat in front of me.

"Our exams are approaching too. I think I should start preparing as well," I replied, opening my laptop.

We both began studying our materials.

My laptop was out of battery, so I began searching for an electrical outlet to plug in my charger. As I glanced around, I spotted him seated just a few benches away from us. He was staring intently in my direction, and his gaze felt piercing and intense.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"What happened, Amber? Are you okay?" Mark asked, placing his hand on mine.

I could see anger growing in his eyes as his gaze shifted from me to our intertwined hands. I quickly withdrew my hand from his and excused myself to get some fresh air.

What's wrong with him? And what's wrong with me? Why do I always get nervous under his gaze?

I was taking deep breaths to calm my nerves when suddenly, I felt a strong grip around my waist, pulling me towards the corner of the library balcony.

"What..." Chris placed his hand over my mouth, silencing me.

I stared at him with wide eyes, and he looked at me with a mix of various unreadable emotions. One emotion that was unmistakable in his face and eyes was anger. He appeared really angry.

He came closer to me, so close that I could feel his fresh minty breath on my face.

"Tell Mark to stay away from you. Or you'll regret it. Don't test my patience," he warned in his dangerously husky voice.

And with that, he left, leaving me in shock. It took me a good 2-3 minutes to process everything that had just happened.

What was that?

****

Finally, the results were out, and the scholarship was granted to me and Chris. I wasn't shocked or surprised. I had a feeling we would win it, not because I was overconfident, but because the project that Chris had sent me was truly outstanding. As a business student, I could tell that the project was professionally done and spot-on.

I achieved my goal today, but I wasn't feeling happy. It wasn't our work. I was almost certain that Chris had it done by a professional. It felt empty, but I didn't share this with anyone, not even Elsa. Revealing this would tarnish Chris's reputation at the university, and I didn't want to do that. So, I decided to keep quiet.

I smiled whenever someone came to congratulate me, not letting anyone see what was really going on inside me.

"Amber! Since you've achieved what you always wanted, you'll have to treat us tonight," Elsa said excitedly.

I smiled and replied, "Okay!"

I invited Oliver and Mark as well. Mark had really helped me with the project, so I should at least treat him as a gesture of gratitude.

****

It was 6 in the evening when we reached the restaurant. We had decided to go to an Italian restaurant because Oliver and Elsa were craving Italian food. Mark was fine with anything, so we chose this place. It was a popular spot in the main city, especially known for its variety of pizzas and had great online reviews.

We were all dressed semi-casually. I wore a black woolen dress that ended just above my thighs, with black pantyhose underneath and black ankle-length boots. I added a long silver pendant to complete the look.

The waiter brought us menus, and we began to decide what we wanted to eat. Suddenly, Oliver spoke up.

"Here's the man of the evening. Welcome, brother," he said, and at that moment, I felt a presence behind me. I looked up to find Chris standing there.

"How come you're here?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Honestly, I didn't know why his eyes always made me nervous.

"We won the scholarship together, so I thought, why not come and celebrate our success together?" he replied in his deep, husky voice as he took a seat in front of me.

Our table was round, and I was sitting between Mark and Elsa. Oliver was beside Elsa, and Chris was seated between Mark and Oliver, which meant Chris and I were face to face.

We ordered our dishes and started chatting. I was in conversation with Mark, but I could feel Chris's intense gaze on me. Oliver made small talk with him, but his eyes remained locked on me.

Finally, our food arrived, and we began eating. While I was savoring the pasta, Mark noticed a bit of white sauce near my mouth and offered me a tissue to wipe it off. I didn't think much of it and let him clean it up.

Suddenly, there was a loud sound as Chris broke his wine glass, and we looked up to see that his hand was bleeding badly.

"Brother, you should have been more careful. Your hand is bleeding badly," Oliver said, taking out his handkerchief and pressing it against Chris's wounded hand to stem the bleeding. The restaurant staff quickly rushed over with a first aid kit.

I was taken aback by the sight of so much blood, and Chris's unwavering gaze fixed on me only made the situation more unsettling. Feeling like I might vomit, I hurried to the washroom.

In the restroom, I