Episode -2

The prayer had barely ended when Sister Mary’s voice sliced through the air like divine thunder.

“Clara! Kathy!”

Every head in the chapel turned. Clara closed her eyes. Kathy mouthed, we’re dead.

“Yes, Sister?” they both said in unison, trying to sound angelic.

Sister Mary’s expression could’ve frozen fire. “You two were late. Again.”

Kathy, ever the survivor, smiled sweetly. “We were, um… deep in meditation.”

“On your beds?” Sister Mary snapped.

Clara elbowed her friend. “We’re sorry, Sister,” she said quickly, hands folded like a saint-in-training. “It won’t happen again.”

Sister Mary sighed — the kind of sigh that said she’d seen every excuse in the holy book. “Stay after class. Both of you.”

Clara nodded meekly. Kathy muttered, “Worth it,” under her breath.

---

While they stood in silent shame, the heavy church doors creaked open.

Everyone turned.

A man entered — tall, dressed in black, his eyes scanning the chapel like he owned the place.

It was him.

The man from the SUV.

Clara’s stomach flipped. Kathy’s elbow found her ribs immediately. “It’s him!” she whispered.

Clara didn’t answer — mostly because she was too busy pretending not to stare.

The stranger walked past the rows of students, his boots echoing softly against the marble floor. He dipped his head slightly to Sister Mary. “Forgive me, Sister. I’m here for confession.”

His voice was low — smooth and deep enough to make even the cross above the altar tilt an inch.

“Of course, my son,” Sister Mary replied, her tone instantly softer. “You may wait by the confessional.”

He nodded politely… but as he turned, his eyes flicked to Clara and Kathy.

Clara’s breath caught.

That smirk — that same dangerous, knowing smirk — was back.

Kathy leaned closer, whispering, “He’s totally laughing at us.”

Clara whispered back, “No, he’s mocking us.”

Kathy grinned. “Even worse. He’s hot and mocking us.”

“Stop it!” Clara hissed, eyes darting toward Sister Mary.

But Adrian (because of course, this was Adrian Vitale) had already looked away, taking a seat in the back pew — perfectly calm, pretending to focus on his prayer book.

Only he wasn’t reading.

From the corner of his eye, he watched the two girls trying desperately not to get caught whispering again. The taller nun scolded them in hushed tones, waving a finger dangerously close to their faces.

And Adrian… smiled.

He shouldn’t have found it amusing — the mafia heir, the tough one, sitting in a church like a sinner pretending to repent — but something about the sight of those two girls being scolded by a nun was oddly… entertaining.

Especially the quiet one. The one with calm eyes and a heartbeat he could almost feel from across the hall.

When Sister Mary finally walked away, Kathy slumped in relief. “We survived.”

Clara exhaled slowly. “Barely.”

At the same time, Adrian closed his prayer book and whispered under his breath —

“Forgive me, Father… for I’m about to make things complicated.”

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