Renea’s POV:

After securing the terms of the wager, I didn't let the surrounding drama dampen my appetite. I ordered a simple meal and began to eat slowly, relishing the quiet moment.

"Is this seat taken?" A girl approached, her voice cutting through the cafeteria noise. I didn't look up, merely offering a brief "No."

She sat opposite me, her presence impossible to ignore. Stella looked like a rebel in an art gallery—her hair styled in intricate, messy braids and her attire a mix of leather and metallic accessories. She began to size me up with unabashed curiosity.

"I have to hand it to you," Stella sneered, though there was a hint of admiration in her eyes. "Most people would be too upset to eat after being played like that. You seem... unfazed."

"Why should I punish myself for the actions of others?" I replied coldly, still focused on my food.

"But your so-called friends just turned on you in a heartbeat. Doesn't that make you angry?"

"Everyone chooses their own path," I said indifferently. "Those with different principles were never meant to walk together. There’s no use in getting upset over a destination that was always going to be different."

My lack of emotion seemed to pique her interest even more. Stella leaned in, her expression shifting to one of mock indignation. "Then tell me this—why did you give me away to my uncle earlier?"

I looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. I barely remembered her, let alone the mysterious man, Aron, who had been looking for her. But as I thought of him, that distinct, familiar scent flashed through my mind, making me frown.

"Did you do it because he’s handsome?" Stella pressed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Boring," I muttered, standing up to leave.

"Wait! Do you really not think he’s handsome?" she called out, chasing after me. "Every girl in this city would have done more than just point a finger to get his attention. You're the first one who looks like she couldn't care less."

"Renea!"

A familiar voice interrupted Stella’s pestering. I froze as Jasper walked toward me. In an instant, memories of my past life—of how I had played the humble fool for his sake—played in my mind like a distorted video. Seeing him now, I felt no warmth, only a cold, calculated desire for justice.

Stella watched the two of us, a look of disappointment crossing her face. Is this her taste? she seemed to be thinking. Compared to my uncle, this guy is a joke.

"Renea, this is amazing!" Jasper said, his face lighting up with a practiced sincerity. "We’ll be able to see each other every day now." He stepped forward, his hand reaching out as if to reclaim a possession. I moved back, my movements sharp and decisive.

"We aren't that close, Jasper," I said, my voice cutting through his facade.

Jasper froze, his hand hanging in mid-air. Beside me, Stella burst into a sudden, appreciative laugh.

"Renea, what’s wrong?" Jasper asked, his tone shifting to one of gentle concern. "Is it because of your family background? It doesn't matter to me if you're an heiress or not. My feelings remain the same."

I sneered inwardly. In my past life, that 'sincerity' had been my undoing. But I remembered how he had stood silently behind Kailey while I was being humiliated by the very family he claimed didn't matter.

"Is that so?" I challenged. "If your feelings are so deep, would you be willing to give up your debut and your contract with the agency to prove it?"

Jasper hesitated. The silence stretched between us, revealing the shallow roots of his devotion. He had worked too hard for his upcoming debut; he would never sacrifice his dreams for a girl he already thought he had secured.

I scoffed and walked away, leaving him standing there with his unanswered promises. Stella shot him a contemptuous glance before running to catch up with me.

"Why are you following me?" I asked, my annoyance beginning to surface.

"Because," Stella said, a wide grin on her face, "I think I've finally met someone more interesting than my uncle's business meetings."