Simon's car felt less like a vehicle and more like a private lounge.
Supple leather seats with massage controls. A small table stocked with wine and food. Soft music designed to make you forget you had problems.
Simon poured two glasses of red wine and broke the silence first.
"Miss Vance… shall we drink to our reunion?"
He slid a glass toward her, his smile edged with arrogance.
Maeve didn't touch it.
"School policy," she said. "No drinking, smoking, fighting—during term, you get written up."
Simon bit back a laugh. "From what I hear, you got into a physical altercation on campus yesterday."
Maeve lifted a brow. "You've been paying close attention to me."
He swirled his glass, amused. "No man can resist a woman with charm."
That night at the bar—Zero Bar—Maeve had left a deep impression.
His assistant's background report said she wasn't just a student at Aethelburg University; she was the valedictorian.
Simon didn't bother lying to himself: today's lecture had been for Maeve.
If there wasn't an opening, he made one. That was how Simon operated.
Maeve glanced at her watch again.
"Mr. Grover, you have twenty minutes left."
The message was clear: skip the performance. Get to the point.
Simon took a small sip and did exactly that.
"I looked into your admissions results. Perfect scores. High IQ. Strong pharmacology background."
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