The Billionaire Prince's Scholar

I was driving right to my place, a smile playing on my face, when Ethan called me over to come hangout.

I really wanted to turn him down because I just wanted to go home and sleep, but I agreed.

I turned the other way and drove to his place, Emily on my mind. I had her number, which meant I could reach out anytime. When I stepped foot into my friend's house though, I paused when I saw the look on his face.

I raised a brow. "What is it?" He grimaced. "Have you seen the news?" "What news?" I walked closer to him, curiosity all over my face.

"That Emily girl was in an accident," he said.

I glared at him. "Don't mess with me, bro." There was no way in hell that was possible. She was just with me. I'd just collected her phone number. I'd just dropped her off... He showed me his phone and I saw it written plainly, and the location written was exactly at her dorm street.

I tensed. I couldn't believe my eyes. "What the fuck?" "She was attacked by some girls... they didn't hurt her, but a car certainly did," he explained.

I looked at The Whistleblower blog, seeing their earlier posts of today and found one that highlighted Emily's face. With me.

I was angry. I didn't know if it was directed at myself for being so careless or at the driver for hurting her. Most likely both.

My hands squeezed into fists and I wanted to punch something.

"Calm down, Julian," Ethan said, reaching for my shoulder. "It's not your fault, you know." He seemed to understand where my mind was going. While his words were comforting, I really didn't believe him.

"Ethan, I want you to do something for me," I decided. "And what is that?" he asked curiously.

"I want you to help me find out who hit her." His eyes widened. "You're joking," he said. "You're not a damn detective, you know. Also, you've never once cared about anyone enough to use-" He stopped when he saw the look I gave him.

"She's in the hospital because of me," I said, my voice low and even. "I need something to at least rid me of some damn guilt, Ethan. I can't visit her because everyone will know, which would make things worse for her. And I can't call because I know she'll be unconscious." Resigned, my friend nodded. "Fine. We're going to be the good guys for now." "Thanks," I finally said.

We didn't play any games anymore, but we did watch an action film and ate something he ordered. Nadia didn't reach out, probably because she was busy or just didn't care.

I got into the guest room and looked through the school news and saw it filled with what happened to Emily. I looked at The Whistleblower too.

Despite my claim that I didn't want to call her, I dialed Emily's number. I was sure she wouldn't answer, but that didn't mean I couldn't try.

She didn't answer.

And I felt my heart squeeze in pain as I closed my eyes, forcing myself to fall asleep.

****

It was a few days later and I was at my parents' house in the morning, just in time for breakfast.

Thankfully, my father wasn't around, but unfortunately, my mother was there.

She had a wide smile on her face as she welcomed me into the house, offering me a hug that I accepted. I didn't want her crying on me so soon, I already had enough on my mind.

I quietly walked up the stairs after she let me go. I didn't say much to her and I didn't want to.

Settled in my room moments later, I took in the familiar walls and decorations, the paintings and carved pieces around. It was an extremely large room that sometimes I was overwhelmed by it.

But it also felt empty.

I sighed, bundled in my sheets after keeping my bags aside. I took out my phone and looked at a number I had saved for a while and decided to take a chance.

I pressed the dial button.

It rang for a long time and I held my breath in wait. Hoping I'd get a response.

I eventually did.

"Hello," a hoarse voice answered.

"Hey," I breathed.

I heard silence at the other end of the line. "Julian?" the voice finally asked.

"Hi, Emily," I said softly.

"H- hi, um," she started. "I didn't expect a call from you at all." I felt a pang of guilt at that. "I'm sorry about that, Emily," I rushed to explain. "I heard what happened to you but I didn't want to see you at the hospital because I didn't want a repeat of that. And I couldn't call because... you were still unconscious." "It's fine," she replied after a moment. "I didn't really expect you to reach out at all. It's not like we're... that close." I opened my mouth to protest, but held in my words. She didn't need me arguing with her now. I called to comfort her anyway.

"So how are you feeling?" I asked, concerned.

She sighed. "I'm fine. I wasn't hit too hard to affect my legs, so I just have to use crutches for now. It'll all heal soon and I'll be back to normal." "I'm really sorry about this, Emily," I quietly said after she was done.

She let out a sound of surprise. "Well, it's not really your-" "But it is," I interrupted, insistent. "You got hurt because you were with me. I don't pay much attention to The Whistleblower, but I guess a lot of people do and..."

"It's to be expected," Emily told me, laughing nervously. "You're really popular and rich, and... every girl wants you." I looked up at the chandelier and fancy lights in my room. "And what about you?" "What about me?" she asked, confused.

I felt a smirk slowly grow on my face, imagining how her face looked as I asked the question, "Do you want me?" I was heavily amused by the sound of shock she made and her stuttering. I'd seen her long enough to know how shy she was despite her somewhat tough exterior.

"No," she finally denied. "I don't want you." I smiled to myself, not really believing her. Or maybe it's just my over-inflated ego. It would be nice if she wanted me though. She'd be a much better choice than all the other girls throwing themselves at me.

"Besides, don't you already have someone?" she mumbled. "I thought you were just interested in being friendly with me." I blinked in surprise, sitting up. "Who said I had someone?" "Everyone is saying that," she answered somewhat nervously. Before I could defend myself, she moved on with the conversation by saying, "I have to go. I have to take my meds, and study." "Oh, okay," I said.

"Thanks for calling," she told me, and cut the call.

I ruffled my hair, my thoughts scattered. Then I heard a knock on the door.

"Julian, you should come down for breakfast," the headmaid called.

I groaned to myself before getting up, dreading sitting on the same table as Mom.

The dining room was absolutely gorgeous, if you could ignore the atmosphere. Spread on the table were toast, bread of different kinds, eggs, cereal, tea, milk... so much to pick to eat.

Breakfast really was always a lot in the house.

I picked some toast and tea and ate slowly, feeling my mother's eyes on me. I sat at the other side of the table just within her view and reach and I was uncomfortable. Eating my food, I started regretting coming back.

"So how's school?" she asked.

I took a sip of my milky tea before speaking. "School is great." She leaned forward. "I heard that you're currently seeing Angelina Ross. She's absolutely gorgeous." I stared at her excited expression. "I'm not seeing her. We just met once." She smiled. "That's how it always goes. Your father and I met the same way." My grip on my cup tightened. "Well, I'm not my father." She appeared surprised by my tone. "But you're the only child and son we have left. It'd be best if you do everything like your father did, for your success." I remembered what I saw that night. Him with another woman. I was sure he probably had other women around that weren't Mom. No matter how mad at her I was, I also felt sorry for her. My father was trash and she kept acting like he wasn't. He didn't marry her out of love and she was paying for it.

"I only want to marry someone I love," I said, looking all over her beautiful and fairy-like features.

She could be with anyone else even now and she would be happier. But her desire for keeping appearances and... her fear of my father were too strong. Unfortunately, I understood her. But I still felt like it didn't have to be like this. There are a lot of things she could do that would free her. If only she had the guts.

Breakfast continued with small talk- mostly with Mom speaking, and when I was done, I walked out the door to the large garden inside. I needed as much clean air as I could get.

I slowly walked on the green grasses, touching the roses, chrysanthemums and more. The silence mixed with the chirping of birds were beautiful until it was interrupted by my phone buzzing.

I picked it up. "Yes?" "Hey," Ethan spoke, not wasting time. "My guys found out who the girl that hit Emily is. What do you want to do now?"

My expression turned cold and I responded. "I want them to... speak to her for my sake." I told him my plan and he agreed, eventually ending the call.

I sat on a bench inside and sighed. I couldn't do much for Emily to apologize, but the one thing I could do is to get the culprit and... hurt them. Like they did her.

My thoughts briefly went to question myself: Am I acting like my father?

I shook my head immediately. I would never act like him. I was doing a good thing by protecting an innocent lady. My father would never do this for anyone.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. Emily consumed my mind in the most interesting way. I didn't actually know what about her made me so curious because the only thing I really knew about her was that she was on scholarship, really smart and... that's it. She's not rich or even the most sociable... However, I think that's what made me want her even more. Being friendly was sure on my list though. I sneezed as a leaf fell down on my nose.

Getting up minutes later, I made the decision to see her in school later. Away from the preying eyes of everyone.

I'd gone to bed and woke up by evening. I'd gone to the kitchen to take some snacks before dinner, but then I bumped into someone on my way up the stairs. It was an unfamiliar man that I'd never seen before, probably one of my father's business clients or friends.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I apologized when I realized that I hit his bag down on the floor.

"It's alright, it's alright." The man waved me off as he promptly picked up his bag and hurried away, not turning back once.

My brows furrowed in suspicion as I watched them.

I looked back down on the spot he once was and squatted down to look at the floor closely.

There was a kind of powder spilled on the floor.

...A powder?

I frowned deeply as my thoughts swirled, reaching to touch the floor.

"What are you doing?" I snapped my head up to look into my father's cold eyes.