Chapter 2

Neil :~

I hated parties.

Too loud. Too many people pretending to laugh at jokes that weren’t funny. Too much fake charm. But my father insisted I attend. “Connections matter, Neil,” he always said. “Our family’s name has to be seen.”

So I went. I walked into Sam’s house, already annoyed, already wishing I was back at my office with real work to do.

And then it happened.

One second I was moving through the hallway, the next—soda spilled across my jacket. Cold liquid soaking into fabric that had been tailored in Italy, made only for me.

I froze. Then I looked down.

A boy stood in front of me, wide-eyed, holding an empty can with shaking hands. He looked terrified, his mouth opening and closing as if words couldn’t find him.

I didn’t care who he was. All I saw was someone careless enough to ruin a suit worth more than his entire outfit put together.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped.

He stammered, his voice small, apologizing again and again. My irritation grew. People like this always apologized. But apologies didn’t fix anything.

“Do you even realize how much this costs?” I asked.

The boy froze, his face turning red. His clothes were cheap, worn at the edges. His sneakers looked like they’d fall apart any moment. He clearly didn’t belong here.

“People like you shouldn’t be here,” I said before I could stop myself. The words came out sharp, colder than I intended, but I didn’t take them back. I meant them.

He whispered something about cleaning the jacket, but I stepped back. I didn’t want his hands anywhere near me.

And then Sam’s voice cut through the moment.

“Neil!” he called, cheerful as always.

I turned slightly.

The boy’s eyes flicked between us, confused. That’s when I realized—he didn’t know who I was until now. His face shifted, as if my name carried weight. Of course it did.

Neil Kingsley. CEO. The one everyone whispered about.

But for some reason, his expression wasn’t the same as everyone else’s. It wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t fear of my power. It was something different.

Embarrassment. Hurt.

For a brief second, I felt… something.

I ignored it. I told myself he was nothing but an accident. A poor boy who shouldn’t have been in my way.

Still, as I moved through the rest of the party, I caught myself thinking about him. His wide eyes, the way his voice shook, the way my words had cut him too sharply.

I told myself it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

But for some reason, I couldn’t forget his face and how annoying he is. later I went to my house . because with that look I can't carry on with party . I hate people who comes on my way. I do my hygiene and went to bed luckily after some time I found myself in deep sleep .

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