Alexander Sterling was pure walking power—rich, polished, untouchable.
I thought, if I’m gonna have a first love, might as well be someone unforgettable, even if it ends badly.
So I chased him like a goddamn lunatic.
He gave in eventually, with three conditions: we date, we don’t get married, and once college ends, so do we.
I agreed without blinking.
We were together for three years, and those three years burned like a damn romance movie on fast-forward.
But on graduation day, I was the one who brought up the breakup.
And he… backed out.
I stared at him like he’d grown another head.
“Wait, wasn’t the deal to break up after graduation?”
I remember exactly how it ended.
He lowered that arrogant head of his, laughed bitterly, and said,
“Avery Chase, you better pray we never see each other again.”
So I disappeared from his life.
But life’s a cruel bitch with a twisted sense of humor—because of course, we ran into each other again.
We had this unspoken rule, Alex and I.
We were college-only. Period.
Whenever school let out, holidays or whatever, we went back to our separate cities.
He became Trey Sterling of Manhattan’s elite, and I went back to being just plain Avery from a quiet little town.
No calls. No texts. We lived like strangers.
It was like hitting pause on the relationship.
Honestly, I thought we’d keep that strange little setup right until the clean break at graduation.
But sophomore year summer break? Long as hell—almost three months.
Right before we left campus, he asked, “Gonna miss me?”
I snuggled into his chest. “Yeah. Like crazy.”
He kissed the top of my head and didn’t say dumb shit like, “Call me if you miss me.”
God, I loved that about him.
Rational. Distant. Perfectly detached.
We both knew we weren’t going anywhere. His family expected someone from their circle—legacy, money, power. I was just a fun detour.
A temporary thrill.
On campus, I was his girlfriend.
Off campus, when he went back to being Trey Sterling, heir to the Sterling fortune, I vanished.
And I let him. I played along.
Never crossed the line.
I never thought he’d be the one to break our rules first.
That summer, he texted me—said he was heading back to campus early. A whole month earlier than we planned.
I teased him. “Couldn’t stand the thought of being away from me, huh?”
He didn’t answer.
But after that, he started asking if I wanted to travel together during long breaks.
And hell yeah, I said yes.
We went everywhere—stargazing in the desert, sunsets on the beach.
Every time I got lost in the view, he’d lean in and kiss me—always sudden, always hard, always possessive.
He liked control. He liked making the first move. He liked me breathless and pinned under him.
But right when things were about to go too far, I’d kill the moment.
He’d stop, his eyes dark with frustration, Adam’s apple bobbing like he was about to explode. “What’s wrong?”
“Just… don’t want to,” I’d say.
And even though his body screamed otherwise, he always backed off. Took a cold shower. Came back and just held me like we were seventeen again.
After a while, he started reading my hesitation.
Didn’t even need me to stop him—he’d get up on his own and cool off.
Except once.
That night, he saw a message on my phone.
“Who’s this guy?” he asked.
“A friend. From home.”
He didn’t say much then, but later that night… he got pushy.
Grabbed my wrist. Pinned me to the bed. Kissed me hard.
“Alex, no,” I whispered. “I said no.”
“Why not?” he growled. “Because of that guy?”
He was never good at jealousy. It made him unhinged.
But he knew. He always knew.
I was holding back because deep down, I never saw a future with him.
Didn’t want the memories to cut too deep.
He respected that. Always had.
Still, after that night, every time he touched me, it felt like a war.
Senior year was winding down. The end was coming, and I felt like I was bleeding in slow motion.
So I braced myself for the heartbreak.
For our last trip, Alex took me to England.
Kent, to be exact.
Second morning, still jetlagged and half-asleep, people stormed into our hotel room.
Before I could scream, they’d shoved me into a damn wedding dress, done up my face like a magazine bride, and tossed me onto a goddamn horse-drawn carriage.
I didn’t know what the hell was happening until I walked into the cathedral.
Canterbury.
No guests.
Just him and me.
And a priest.
We exchanged rings. And right then, I finally understood why he asked me for a ring as his birthday present.
It was for this.
A fake wedding. A dream that wasn’t real.
That night, he was heading to the shower when I stopped him.
I pushed him down. Climbed on top. Kissed the hell out of him.
He froze. “Avery…”
“Newlyweds don’t sleep cold, Alex. Don’t be boring.”
Screw the future.
That night, I was his wife. That was all that mattered.
And that night turned into many more.
Once you cross that line, there’s no turning back.
We were reckless.
Beautifully, stupidly, hopelessly reckless.
I didn’t know when he’d bring up the breakup.
We never set a date. Just… “after graduation.”
But the silence dragged on, and I started losing it.
The return flight was booked. There was no more time.
So I asked him to dinner near campus and dropped the bomb.
He stared at me. Quiet. Still.
And said, “No.”
I blinked. “No… what?”
His eyes locked on mine. “I don’t want to break up.”
My brain went haywire. Alex Sterling wasn’t the kind of guy who backed out of his word. If he said something, he meant it. Always had.
So I never doubted for a second that our breakup after graduation was set in stone. But now? Now he was flipping the script like it meant nothing. And I didn’t even see it coming.
I panicked.
Because I never planned a future with him. That was the deal—college romance, clean break. It was supposed to be safe, sweet, and temporary.
But Alex’s sudden change of heart shattered everything I thought I knew.
I stared at him, speechless, heart racing. His eyes searched mine like he was trying to read every lie I didn’t know I was about to tell.
“I know what you’re afraid of,” he said, voice tinged with urgency.
“Give me five years, Avery. Just five. I swear, by then my family won’t have any say in who I marry.”
“We’ll do this again the right way. Full wedding, church bells, guests, champagne, vows, all of it. Legal. Loud. Ours.”
“What do you say?”
I couldn’t even look him in the eye. My heart was punching my ribs from the inside, and all I could mumble was, “We had a deal, Alex. Graduation means goodbye.”
He blinked, stunned. “What?”
There was no point dragging it out. I took a breath and said it straight: “I want to break up.”
That hit him like a brick.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t move—just stared at me with a cold, razor-sharp gaze that cut through my chest.
“Why?”
His voice was low, hollow. Like he already knew the answer but needed to hear me say it. Needed it to hurt.
“Because we don’t fit,” I said, fast, like ripping off a band-aid. “I don’t have big dreams. I just want an easy life. I don’t want to constantly fight your family or jump through hoops to belong. If I marry you, I’ll be battling that forever.”
“So no, Alex. I never planned to stay.”
The more I spoke, the worse it felt. Like I was gutting him with each word. He had visions of forever, and I was calculating survival.
He was going to war for me.
And I was already halfway out the door.
“That’s all I’ve got,” I said and stood up, heart slamming in my chest. “Take care of yourself.”
I turned to leave.
He grabbed my wrist. Tight.
I turned back slowly, breath catching.
He was still seated, looking up at me, drenched in this awful kind of heartbreak I didn’t expect from someone like him. It was ice-cold and quiet and lethal.
“If you never saw a future with me,” he asked, “then why the hell did you give yourself to me?”
I yanked my hand free. “Wow, didn’t think you’d be the one clinging to that. I’m not, for the record.”
That shattered something in him. His mouth twitched, and then he laughed—low, bitter, broken.
He stood, tall and looming, casting a shadow over me. Didn’t even lean down—just stared, eyes hard.
“Avery Chase,” he said, voice like steel, “you better pray we never see each other again. Because I can’t promise I’ll be civil next time.”
I walked out shaking, hand sweating from where he held me.
I never should’ve fallen for him.
I fled that city and swore I’d never go back.
But fate doesn’t care about promises.
Mia was marrying rich, and I got the invitation like a punch to the throat.
The wedding was in New York. The moment I saw the location, I told her hell no.
But apparently, her groom’s family had a say in everything, including the guest list. Out of all her relatives, they approved just one: me.
Her own parents weren’t even allowed.
So guess who got guilt-tripped into playing proud family rep? That’s right.
They booked us into some fancy-ass hotel. The kind with valet, champagne check-ins, and way too many mirrors.
Mia was getting married the next morning. But the night before, all hell broke loose.
Some girl added her on Instagram and dropped ten photos of her kissing the groom—tongue, hands, everything. Plus a video.
Turns out the groom, Ethan Woods, was throwing a goodbye-to-freedom bash at his mansion thirty minutes away. Poolside sluts, shirtless bros, cheap vodka and full-volume chaos.
In the video, this girl—caked in makeup and confidence—was mouth-to-mouth with Ethan like it was his last night on Earth.
Mia scrolled through it like she was checking the weather. Then she turned to us—six bridesmaids and me—and said, “We’re crashing the party.”
What I didn’t expect? Running into Alexander fucking Sterling.
Of course it was New York. Of course he’d be there.
But four years later? First time I step foot back in this damn city? And I bump straight into the one man I swore I’d never see again?
God has jokes.
Mia marched in and slapped the girl square across the face.
The girl turned to Ethan for backup. He just smirked like she was some side character in his game.
What she didn’t know? Mia and Ethan had a deal. He could fuck around all he wanted—just not in front of her.
If his girls crossed the line? Mia had permission to wreck them.
Which she did. Hair pulling, screaming, straight-up dragging.
Then Ethan kissed her cheek, laughed, and said, “Now go say hi to Trey.”
Trey.
My stomach flipped.
Mia fixed her dress and hair like nothing had happened. “Sure. Let me freshen up first.”
He left ahead. Over by the cabana, a group of rich, polished people were drinking, playing cards, and quietly plotting their next yacht purchase.
Compared to the noise near the pool, that table looked like the inner circle of hell’s country club.
Mia leaned in to whisper to us. “See that table? Every guy there is a viable target—except the one in the middle. He’s untouchable.”
Naturally, I looked.
And froze.
Alexander Sterling.
Older. Sharper. Richer. Like the boy I loved had been carved into stone.
Even the hottest bridesmaid, Izzy, couldn’t help herself. “Why can’t we go for him?”
Mia pulled her aside and hissed, “Because he’s a Sterling. We’re not built for that kind of fallout. Don’t be stupid.”
Izzy muttered, “Oh,” like she got it. But she definitely didn’t.
I told Mia I wasn’t great at small talk and tried to duck out of the introductions.
She yanked me toward the crowd like I’d lost my damn mind.
“Are you kidding me, Avery? You look like this and you’re just gonna hide? You need to meet some quality men.”
That was Mia—zero filter, full chaos.
Worried she’d cause a scene, I gave in and trailed behind her like it wasn’t a slow-motion car crash. She pulled me straight to his table.
“Hey, Trey!” she greeted with a smile that practically had bows and sparkles on it.
Alexander Sterling—Trey to those close enough to touch the gold—was every bit the polished gentleman he’d always been.
Except now, something about him was… colder. Still polite, still perfect, but with a distance that felt like a pane of glass between him and the rest of us. You could look, but not touch.
Mia beamed. “Didn’t know you were here, Trey! If I had, I’d have dragged my girls over earlier!”
Izzy caught the line like a pro wide receiver. “Hi, Trey~” she chimed in with a sweet smile.
Alex glanced up at her, the faintest smile playing on his lips—polite, detached.
Then one of the guys at the table chimed in, teasing, “Damn, Trey? Not many get to call him that. Better stick with Mr. Sterling, sis.”
Izzy laughed and offered a flirty little shrug. “Oops. My bad. Mr. Sterling it is.”
I mentally gave her an A+ for social grace.
And then—Mia struck.
“Trey, this is my cousin. Avery Chase.”
Boom.
She stepped aside like she was presenting a damn prize pony at auction. And just like that, I was fully exposed, center stage.
I felt the attention hit me like a truck. But none of it compared to his gaze.
It burned through me the second our eyes met.
I had no way out. So I lifted my chin, forced a calm I didn’t feel, and gave the fakest smile I’ve ever worn.
“Mr. Sterling. Nice to see you.”
Alex didn’t smile back. Didn’t blink.
He just stared. Lips pressed into a thin line. Cold. Controlled. Dangerous.
The air was tight, but no one around us seemed to notice the tension choking the space between us.
Mia kept introducing people like she hadn’t just dropped a live grenade.
Everyone was doing their best to play nice. His friends were gracious. Izzy flirted, the girls laughed.
Then Alex dropped it.
“Avery Chase.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it hit like a siren in the middle of a funeral.
I froze. Looked at him without thinking.
He was still lounging on the couch, looking up at me like I was a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve.
His voice came low and slow.
“Long time.”
Silence.
Mia blinked and stammered, “Wait—you two… you know each other?”
The bomb had officially gone off.
I forced a calm nod. “We went to college together.”
Alex stilled. Barely perceptible, but I caught it.
Then he stood.
And started walking toward me.
Not fast. Not loud. Just that heavy, slow kind of stride that made your lungs forget how to work.
When he reached me, he stopped. Looked down with a half-smirk that felt like a slap.
“So… I don’t even qualify as your ex?”
I hadn’t braced for that.
Didn’t see it coming. Couldn’t speak.
Alex turned away from me, glanced at Ethan Woods, and said calmly, “Think we’re good here. Let’s call it a night.”
Ethan blinked, then scrambled, “Y-yeah! Let’s wrap this up.”
And just like that, the party disbanded.
Alex reached out and grabbed my wrist.
“I’ll take you.”
“No, I—”
But I didn’t pull away.
Something in the touch sent sparks shooting through my veins.
And maybe I didn’t want to let go.
He walked me right past the whispered gossip and wide eyes, like none of them existed.
The car was sleek, silent. AC blowing low. City lights sliding past the windows.
But we weren’t heading to the hotel. We weren’t heading anywhere.
He just drove.
No destination. No music. Just silence.
I didn’t ask.
Didn’t want to break it.
Until I did.
“Alex… I’m tired.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just kept his eyes forward, then finally turned the car around without a word.
Half an hour later, we pulled up to the hotel.
I unbuckled. Reached for the door. Paused.
And got out without saying a damn thing.
“Avery.”
His voice stopped me halfway to the entrance.
I turned.
He sat behind the wheel, one hand on the steering wheel, his eyes shadowed in low light.
I said nothing.
He held my gaze for one long beat.
Then blinked, like he was clearing something away.
And said, like it meant nothing, “Goodnight.”
I nodded once. Cold. Sharp.
Turned and left.
Heart a mess. Head a hurricane.
Back in the room, my phone rang.
Mia.
“Sooo… you and Trey…”
I cut her off. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Oh. Good. That’s good.”
She didn’t sound convinced.
“Look, I don’t mean to butt in, but… you might not know the Sterlings like I do.”
She hesitated, then launched in.
“They’re not our kind of people, Avery. You tangle with someone like Alex Sterling, it doesn’t just break your heart—it breaks your whole life.”
“He’s engaged. To Diana Summers. You’ve probably never heard of her.”
“But she’s the favorite daughter of the Summers family. Even Ethan’s mom has to kiss her ass.”
“So please,” she whispered, “Don’t do something stupid.”
“I know.”
“…What?”
“I know who he is. And I know who she is. You don’t have to worry.”
Mia let out a breath. “Okay. Okay, good. Just—good.”
I hung up.
Sat alone.
Stared at nothing.
And thought of him.
Alex.
Every look. Every word. Every flicker of something behind those cold, unreadable eyes.
It all replayed in my head like a movie I never asked to star in.
I hated that I remembered every frame.
I sank into the couch, covered my eyes with my forearm, and gave myself five minutes.
Five minutes to bury him in the part of my soul where ghosts go to rot.
Hands down, the worst wedding I’ve ever been to?
Mia’s.
The second she agreed to marry into the Woods family, I knew she was screwed. But it wasn’t Ethan Woods that would wreck her—it was his mother.
Mrs. Woods.
A woman so controlling, she probably runs her own son’s bowel schedule.
Ethan took her last name—her husband’s been dead forever and she runs the empire now. She never wanted Mia. She wanted a puppet. And Mia, bless her delusional heart, thought she could handle it.
Mrs. Woods only caved to the marriage after demanding a damn list of insane conditions—and getting every single one.
By the time the wedding rolled around, the warning signs were neon.
Everything about the ceremony was run by Mrs. Woods. Mia barely got a say in the flavor of the cake. She followed behind her future mother-in-law like a well-trained assistant, smiling through the constant critiques, swallowing every dig without choking.
And the woman didn’t just treat Mia like she was invisible—she acted like the rest of us were a bunch of cockroaches that snuck in with the catering.
Halfway through the toasts, Mia screwed up and called one of the guests by the wrong name. Apparently, that guy was a big deal to Mrs. Woods.
The smile dropped. Instantly.
She offered a sugary apology to the guest and then dragged Mia into a side room and just—went off. You could hear her screaming through the damn door.
No one moved.
Ethan didn’t even flinch. He’d warned Mia before the wedding, said straight-up: “My mom’s temper is nuclear. Even real debutantes can’t handle her. You sure you can?”
And Mia? She nodded and said she’d take it. Like she was agreeing to try a new hair color.
So there he was—watching his new bride get emotionally shredded behind a closed door—and not doing a goddamn thing about it.
The bridesmaids? All six of them went full ostrich, heads down, pretending like the walls weren’t shaking.
Except me.
Mia may be naïve as hell, but she’s still my cousin. And I wasn’t gonna let her get eaten alive without trying.
The yelling was cruel. Degrading. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I knocked twice, then walked in without waiting.
Mrs. Woods snapped her head toward me like a hawk spotting prey. Her eyebrows launched halfway up her forehead.
Before she could start screeching, I smiled and said politely, “Sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but the guests are waiting for the next part of the ceremony.”
She looked at me like I was gum on her Jimmy Choos.
“You weren’t invited in,” she said icily. “No manners. Get out.”
Mia’s face was bone white.
I think she thought she could handle it all. Thought she could swallow the abuse and still breathe.
Maybe now she knew better.
Still, I didn’t want to escalate. Mia would have to survive this woman for the rest of her life. No need to make things worse.
So I tried to deescalate. “Her makeup’s a mess. If you don’t mind, I’ll take her downstairs to fix it so she doesn’t look like she’s been crying in every wedding photo.”
Mrs. Woods wasn’t buying a single syllable of it.
She turned to Mia and hissed, “So this is your family? No wonder.”
She was about to say something worse—her lips curled just so—when someone knocked on the door behind me.
Two light taps.
Then came the voice.
Casual. Sharp.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing in here?”
I turned. And there he was.
Alexander Sterling.
He was leaning in the doorway like he owned the place, eyes locked on me like no one else even existed.
Mrs. Woods blinked. Her tone instantly changed.
“Mr. Sterling,” she said with a suddenly sweet smile. “You know Mia’s cousin?”
She didn’t even know my damn name.
Mia jumped in like she’d been tossed a life preserver. “They’re college friends. Old friends. That’s all.”
Mrs. Woods’ face morphed. Full transformation. Ice Queen to PTA mom in under two seconds.
She reached for Mia’s hand, cooing, “You really should take notes from your cousin. Composed, polite, sharp as a tack. A real asset to any family.”
Mia choked on the compliment.
And me? I just stared.
We both knew what this really was:
Power recognizing power.
Not me.
Alex.
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