Guilty with the life of innocent

Chapter I

The phone pressed against my ear felt heavier with each passing second, and his voice came through in a desperate whisper.

"Baby, please, come back. It’s too late… he's dead. The boss is gone."

His words shattered something deep within me. It couldn’t be real. My mind rebelled against it, refusing to accept this cruel reality. "No..." I choked out, shaking my head as if that could undo the world spinning out of control.

"Baby, please," his voice trembled, urging me back to the present. "Come home. We’re moving now. I can’t lose you too, not like this."

But I was already lost.

Two Years Later

I lay on the worn-out couch in our hideout, staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of two years lived in shadows pressed down on me. Sasha, always upbeat, walked in with that mischievous smirk I’d grown accustomed to. He flopped down beside me, his presence filling the room.

"I’ve got news," he announced. "The president has a son, and guess where he’s studying?  Valencia's University. But it's no ordinary one."

His words jolted me upright. My heart raced with unease. "No, Sasha… tell me it’s not what I think."

A sly grin spread across his face, though a hint of concern flickered in his eyes. "It is. You’re thinking correctly."

"Sasha, I won't do it! You know I hate this!"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Look, this is exactly what you’d be doing if you weren’t stuck in this… situation."

"Yeah? Well, guess what?" I snapped. "I hate our parents for putting us here in the first place!"

"Shhh," he hushed me, his tone calm but firm. "Not polite, kid. And besides, they’re your parents, not mine." His voice took on a mocking edge, his smirk a little too dramatic for the mood.

I rolled my eyes, frustration boiling over. "Fine, I’ll go to that university if it helps us track him down and kill him. But Sasha… are you sure? Are you sure he’s there?"

"Positive." He sat up, reaching into his bag with a flourish. "Look, I’ve already prepared everything—your papers, your cover, and…" He pulled out a neatly folded school uniform. "Ta-da! The director gave me this. I bet you’ll look stunning in it." He winked playfully.

The uniform features a black cardigan or sweater over a white blouse with a deep V-neck, exposing part of the shirt underneath. The skirt is a plaid pattern with a short length, typical of school uniforms. The student is wearing white socks that are scrunched down, paired with black Mary Jane shoes with a slight heel. The outfit evokes a classic, preppy academic look with a modern twist, making it suitable for a university or school setting. The black and white color palette combined with the plaid skirt adds to the timeless aesthetic.

I glared at him, though a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Sasha might be infuriating, but he was the only family I had left. He is my brother, and despite all the teasing, he is the one who kept me safe. Tall and thin, with messy blond hair and mischievous hazel eyes, Sasha wasn’t the muscular protector you’d imagine. But he possessed a sharp mind, especially when it came to hacking. Without him, I’d likely be dead by now.

I looked at him, my earlier frustration melting away. Without warning, I jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Sasha, I love you more than anything. You’re always protecting me, doing everything for me… I don’t know what I’d do without you."

He chuckled, ruffling my hair like I was still a child. "Well, kiddo, you’re the one who’s actually out there fighting. I’m just the guy in the background. Now, get to bed. You’ve got university tomorrow, and I need you sharp."

---

The morning mist clung to the air as I approached the university grounds.
Valencia's university wasn’t just any institution.The university building  is grand and classical, resembling historical European architecture, likely influenced by Renaissance or Baroque design. The structure is characterized by its ornate façade, with intricate stone carvings and tall, symmetrical windows. The building features multiple stories, and the stone arches at the entrance provide a sense of elegance and tradition.

In your description, imagine a university with several interconnected buildings surrounding a central garden. The garden is lush, featuring trimmed greenery and ornate statues, enhancing the sense of history and refinement. Between the buildings, a series of wide, curved staircases lead to different wings of the university, providing both visual grandeur and a practical means of movement. Beneath these staircases, you could have an open space that resembles a low bridge or passageway, allowing students to walk from one section of the university to another without disrupting the aesthetic of the upper levels.

The combination of these elements—the sweeping staircases, the classical architectural style, and the central garden—creates an atmosphere of both academic rigor and timeless beauty. This setting would evoke a sense of prestige and tradition, perfect for an elite or historic university.

The students milling around the entrance were as polished as the building, impeccably dressed in tailored uniforms, their faces blank with indifference. They had no idea what really lay beneath the surface of this institution—what kind of darkness someone like me could bring.

Whispers followed me as I walked through the gates, the weight of curious stares already dragging me down.

"Wow, who’s that blonde girl? She’s… stunning."
"Shut up, dude. You’ve got a girlfriend."
"Careful, she’ll dump you for someone like that if she accidentally hears you."
they were talking about each other and I am glad they didn't notice me.
Their chatter buzzed in the background, but I kept walking, trying to push it all aside. Exhaustion was creeping in already, and the day had barely begun.

Finding the classroom wasn’t difficult; Sasha had ensured I knew the layout of the school before I even arrived. When I stepped in, the lesson was already in progress.
"History," the teacher’s voice droned, but it was interrupted when a girl near the front spoke up.

"Hey, who’s that?" she asked, her short hair bouncing as she turned to look at me. All eyes followed her gaze, and I could feel the weight of the entire class scrutinizing me. Even the teacher seemed surprised, her eyes widening for a brief moment before she regained her composure.

"Ah, the new student. Please, come introduce yourself."

I took a deep breath, forcing a shy smile as I walked to the front of the class, my eyes quickly scanning the room. My gaze landed on a boy asleep at his desk. How disrespectful. Ignoring him, I turned to face the class.
"My name is Fatima," I said, my voice soft but clear. "Nice to meet you all."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the room.
"Whoa, she’s… an Arab?" one of the boys exclaimed, surprise evident in his tone.

I allowed myself a small smile.
"Actually, I’m Egyptian," I corrected gently, watching as the boy’s eyes lit up with interest. Did I already have his attention? How amusing.

"Alright, enough chatter," the teacher cut in. "Fatima, please take your seat. You’ll be at the very back, next to the window."

Perfect. Just what I wanted. I made my way to the desk, a satisfied smile playing on my lips.

"This will do," I murmured under my breath, settling in. The mission had begun.

---

“Van, wake up,” the teacher called, her voice slicing through the stillness of the classroom. The boy, slumped over his desk, stirred reluctantly, his eyelids fluttering open.

Despite his formidable appearance, there was something disarmingly simple about his hazel eyes, an intriguing contrast that held my attention captive.