Chapter 184: 185 | Game On
Her first class didn’t start for two hours, but she couldn’t stay in this room any longer. The walls felt too close. The silence too loud. Her thoughts too circular and repetitive and unproductive.
She needed coffee. Maybe food. Definitely distraction.
The campus cafe opened early for the overachievers who couldn’t sleep and the athletes who started training before dawn. Noel fell into the first category most days. Today she wasn’t sure which category applied.
The walk cleared her head slightly. Cold air filled her lungs. The sun crept above the horizon and painted everything in shades of gold and pink.
Pretty. Peaceful. Completely at odds with the chaos inside her skull.
The cafe was half-full when she arrived. A few students she recognized but didn’t really know. Some faculty members grading papers over espresso. Nobody who would require more than a polite nod of acknowledgment.
Perfect.
Noel ordered a large black coffee and a pastry she didn’t particularly want but needed for the sake of maintaining her blood sugar at functional levels. The barista—a tired-looking third-year she vaguely recognized from logistics classes—handed over both items without unnecessary conversation. Exactly how Noel preferred it.
She found a table in the corner with her back pressed against the wall and a clear, unobstructed view of all entrance points.
Old habits from a childhood spent in buildings where security protocols were second nature.
Her phone sat on the polished table surface in front of her. Silent now. No more messages from mysterious sisters making vague declarations about her love life. No more demands from family corporations requiring her immediate attention on matters she hadn’t asked to be involved in. No more automated reminders of social obligations she’d never agreed to attend in the first place.
Just her and the coffee and the morning light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows that had probably cost more than most families spent on housing in an entire year.
What would her mother say if she could see Noel now? Sitting alone in a campus cafe at six in the morning, ruminating over a boy who’d called her "short stack" when they were children?
Probably something cutting about posture. Or the wrinkles forming in her uniform blazer from sleeping in it. Or the inherent danger of becoming emotionally compromised by romantic entanglements with partners who brought nothing to the table except good genetics and mediocre corporation stock portfolios.
As if Noel’s mother had any room whatsoever to talk about unsuitable partners. Three marriages behind her. Two expensive divorces that had required entire legal teams to navigate. A current boyfriend who was genuinely younger than Noel herself and worked as a "creative consultant" for one of Stark Industries’ marketing subsidiaries.
The Stark family excelled at many things. Technology development. Market domination. Producing heirs with S-Rank Essentia who could maintain the company legacy.
Healthy interpersonal relationships wasn’t anywhere on that list.
Maybe that explained why Noel had spent the last five years of her life building her entire personality around hating one specific person instead of learning how to actually connect with people in any meaningful capacity.
Easier to have an enemy than a friend. Enemies had predictable motivations you could map out on spreadsheets. Clear boundaries that never required renegotiation. You always knew exactly where you stood with someone who wanted to destroy you—the positioning was right there in the name.
Friends were messier. Required vulnerability she hadn’t been trained to show. Trust that went against every corporate instinct her family had spent eighteen years carefully cultivating. The terrifying admission that you needed something from someone and might not receive it in return.
Lovers were exponentially worse than both categories combined.
Noel sipped her coffee and stared out the window at students beginning to populate the campus paths.
She’d had exactly two relationships before this. Both during her time at Stark Academy Prep. Both ending when her partners realized that dating Noel Stark meant constant comparison to her achievements and permanent residence in her shadow.
Neither had broken her heart. Neither had made her feel much of anything, really.
Rome made her feel everything.
Anger and desire and frustration and want and something dangerously close to hope whenever he looked at her like she was more than just the Stark name.
It was inconvenient. Poorly timed. Completely counter to every plan she’d ever made.
And she couldn’t make it stop.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Cheon.
SAW YOU LEAVING CAMPUS EARLY. EVERYTHING OKAY?
Noel frowned. How had Cheon even known she was gone? The girl had surveillance instincts that bordered on supernatural.
FINE. JUST NEEDED COFFEE.
ROME MENTIONED YOU TWO TRAINED THIS MORNING. HE SEEMED DISTRACTED AFTERWARD. WHAT HAPPENED?
Nothing she wanted to discuss with Rome’s other girlfriend. Partner. Whatever the proper terminology was for their bizarre arrangement.
WE SPARRED. DISCUSSED TACTICS FOR THE EXHIBITION. NOTHING UNUSUAL.
The response took longer this time.
IF YOU SAY SO. BUT IF SOMETHING’S BOTHERING HIM, IT AFFECTS ALL OF US. WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A TEAM NOW. NOT JUST FOR THE MATCH.
Noel read the message three times. The implication sat heavy in her chest.
We’re supposed to be a team.
She’d signed a contract agreeing to share Rome with other women. Had accepted the bizarre reality of his situation because the alternative was walking away entirely.
But she hadn’t really thought about what that meant until now.
Team implied cooperation. Communication. The kind of vulnerability she’d spent her entire life avoiding.
I’LL KEEP THAT IN MIND.
She put the phone away before Cheon could respond again. The coffee had gone lukewarm in her hands. The pastry remained untouched.
Outside, the campus continued its morning routine. Students heading to classes. Faculty rushing to meetings. The ordinary machinery of academic life grinding forward regardless of whatever drama played out in individual hearts.
Noel finished her coffee and stood up. Sitting here wouldn’t solve anything.
She had classes to attend. Training sessions to prepare for. A mysterious meeting tomorrow that might blow up everything she thought she knew.
And tonight, Rome would tell her his secrets.
Or try to, anyway.
She suspected whatever he revealed would only raise more questions. People like Rome always had layers beneath layers. Masks behind masks. The truth was probably something she couldn’t even imagine yet.
But she was done waiting for other people to give her answers.
If Vivian had information, Noel would get it herself. If Rome was hiding something dangerous, she would find out what. If this whole situation was some elaborate trap designed to destroy her career before it even started, she would see it coming and adapt accordingly.
That was what she did. What she’d always done.
Assess. Analyze. Overcome.
The Stark heiress walked out of the cafe with her shoulders straight and her expression revealing nothing.
Whatever happened next, she would be ready.
Or she would improvise.
Either way, Rome D’Angelo had no idea what he’d gotten himself into when he’d decided to become interesting.
Noel smiled, and it felt sharp enough to draw blood.
Game on.
