I Was Never Yours

Angelique panicked, covering her cheek as she frantically shook her head like a rattling drum. “No one hit me! You must be seeing things!”

Raymond leaped down from the bed and strode up to her, gripping her wrist to make her face him fully.

“You think I’m an idiot?”

Angelique’s skin was fair and delicate—just the slightest touch would leave a faint red mark. Let alone the glaring, blood-speckled slap print now staining her cheek.

His sharp gaze dropped to her clean, fresh uniform. His eyes darkened. “You changed clothes?”

“I didn’t!” Angelique denied.

“Angeli, have I not told you? The thing I hate the most is being lied to.” His cold eyes flicked down to her sleeve. “Your cuff was stained with my blood earlier. Where is it now?”

As he spoke, his focus had already shifted to the figure behind her—Daryl.

A silent, suffocating pressure filled the space.

Raymond's keen observation and intense possessiveness far exceeded Angelique's expectations.

Meanwhile, Daryl, as always, maintained his gentle demeanor, though his voice carried a teasing edge. “Why don’t you ask your dear childhood sweetheart?”

Raymond’s expression darkened instantly.

“Daphne did this?” His voice was dangerously low. He then turned back to Angelique. “I told you, don’t even think about lying to me.”

“I just didn’t want my mistakes to cause unnecessary misunderstandings between you two,” she answered timidly.

Their gazes locked, and, unexpectedly, it was Raymond who lost the battle.

For some reason, he always felt that Angelique was made of water—fragile, easily shaken, her eyes reddening at the slightest provocation.

They seemed to have an inexplicable connection. Even though this was their first meeting, fate keeps drawing them together through a series of coincidences. He had never believed in fate. But now, for the first time, it felt like an invisible thread was pulling them together.

Raymond wasn’t used to dealing with girls. After all, Daphne was always the one chasing after him.

Faced with Angelique’s teary eyes, he felt an unfamiliar unease—mixed with a strange, indescribable satisfaction.

A chuckle slipped from his lips. “There’s nothing between Daphne and me. Don’t forget—you belong to me. Only I can bully you. Understand?”

Angelique tugged at his sleeve, biting her lower lip. “Daryl is still here... Don’t call me that.”

Her small fingers, whether intentional or not, brushed lightly against Raymond’s waist.

A tingling sensation shot through his body, like an electric current, spreading to every nerve.

He exhaled through his nose, a low, amused hum. “I’ll let you off this time.”

—

Angelique didn’t know what Raymond had done, but in the following days, Daphne had only resorted to minor harassment—stealing her stationery, dirtying her seat.

She hadn’t tried anything more extreme.

But Angelique also hadn’t seen Raymond since.

She didn’t have his contact information, leaving her completely passive.

The uncertainty gnawed at her, a dull frustration pressing against her chest.

Her gaze kept drifting toward his empty seat.

A nudge on her arm pulled her back to reality.

“The teacher is calling you,” Daryl murmured.

On the podium, the teacher’s expression was laced with impatience.

“Angelique, you got into this school purely on scholarship. If you’re not even going to pay attention in class, do you think enrolling in an elite academy suddenly makes you some kind of rich heiress?”

Laughter erupted across the classroom.

Yet Angelique’s expression remained unchanged. Her pitch-black eyes simply settled on the teacher.

She remembered.

Back then, when her sister was on the verge of death, she had called for help again and again.

But what did she say?

“Daphne is such a kind person. Why would she ever hurt you?”

“Stop making trouble for no reason.”

“If you can’t handle it, just die.”

Cold, indifferent words that had pushed her sister into complete despair.

Now, under Angelique’s unwavering gaze, the teacher faltered.

Mumbling something under her breath, she quickly let her sit back down.

Beside her, Daryl adjusted his glasses and said casually, “That was the twentieth time today you looked at Raymond’s seat.”