(Daphne's POV)
Nervous. Excited. Hopeful. Scared. Maybe even guilty.
My thoughts were all over the place.
Once, this had been our dream—studying at Brooks-Lancaster University, walking the same halls as Mom and Dad, as our grandparents. A legacy. At least, that's what they called me.
But things changed.
Dad didn't care. He forced me to come back—to pick up where I left off.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, I had to do it alongside my annoying twin brother, who clearly still hates me.
And now, here I was.
Brooks-Lancaster University.
I barely had time to take it in before—
💥 CRASH.
Metal crunched against metal. My breath caught.
Shit.
I slammed the brakes, heart racing. My car—Dad's stupid car—sat pressed against a sleek, midnight black masterpiece. Dangerous. Elegant. The kind of car that turned heads. A car that whispered old money without needing to say a word.
I hated cars. I was more of a motorbike person. But here I was, on my first day, already making an entrance—by crashing into a car I really shouldn't have.
Because it wasn't just any car.
A door swung open. A figure stepped out.
Shit.
Of all the people I could have crashed into, it had to be him.
Two years. Two years since I walked away—since I broke their trust. And now, standing in the middle of the parking lot, hands shaking, I was face-to-face with the past I'd been avoiding.
I forced myself to move, my legs shaky as I stepped out of the car.
Heart racing. Hands clammy. Only to lock eyes with Leon Atlas Vaillaint.
He was leaning against the driver's side, arms crossed, staring at the dent in his expensive, midnight black car.
He didn't look mad.
Worse—he looked amused.
"So, two years later, you're back," he said, his voice slow, calculated. "And your grand entrance is wrecking my car?"
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
Don't look away. Don't give him the satisfaction.
I tightened my grip on the car door, willing my voice to stay steady.
"Well," I said, lifting my chin. "I figured if I was going to crash back into your life, I might as well make an impact."
The corner of his mouth twitched—just for a second. A flicker of something.
But I didn't stop there. Because if I did, I'd drown in the weight of everything unsaid.
I kept my tone light, almost careless. "Though, let's be honest, Leon—if anyone should be pissed here, it's me."
His expression didn't change. But the air shifted.
Silence.
For a moment—just a breath—I thought I saw it. The crack in his carefully built walls.
Then, just as fast, it was gone.
Leon didn't react. Not right away.
But I saw it—the way his fingers flexed slightly against his crossed arms, like he wanted to say something more. Like my words got to him.
Before the past could suffocate me, the second car door opened.
I went still.
Shit.
Roman and Mason stepped out, and suddenly, breathing felt harder.
Roman slammed his door shut a little too hard. Mason didn't. But he didn't need to. His stare was sharp enough.
For a second, no one said anything.
Then Roman exhaled, shook his head, and looked me over like he didn't recognize me.
"Figures," he said, his voice clipped. Impersonal. "First day back, and you're already making a mess of things."
I swallowed hard. "Good to see you too, Ro."
His expression turned to stone. "Don't call me that."
The words hit harder than I expected them to.
Mason exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced at the dent in the Aston Martin, then back at me. For a second—just a flicker—his expression softened.
Then it was gone.
"Daph... really?"
I didn't know if he meant the crash.
Or leaving.
Either way, I couldn't answer.
Because standing in a circle of three people who used to mean everything to me and one I should probably still hate, I realized something.
I didn't just crash into a car.
I crashed right back into the life I ran away from.
And none of them were going to make this easy for me.
The second bell rang.
Shit.
I snapped out of it, suddenly remembering—I was late.
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to move. Forcing myself to break free from their stares.
"Well, as fun as this reunion has been," I said, brushing imaginary dust off my jeans, "I have somewhere to be."
I didn't look at Leon. I didn't look at Roman. Or Mason.
Instead, I stepped around them, head held high, slipping back into the version of me that doesn't care.
I threw my car into park, grabbed my bag, and turned toward the main building.
For the first time since I got here, I reminded myself why I came back.
Not for them.
Not for the past.
For me.
I pushed through the doors of the main office.
Among all the chaos, I realized—I never even introduced myself.
The Chaos 8
Hi. My name is Daphne Ivy Lyr.
I have a twin—Roman Elias Lyr. We used to be close. But I guess not anymore.
Our parents, Rosalind Isa Lyr and Daniel Emory Lyr, come from old money. The kind that runs deep—generations of power, prestige, and privilege.
Pretty rich. Pretty spoiled.
And, for better or worse, the same applied to us.
But I wasn't the only one.
We were The Chaos 8.
Me, Roman, Leon, Mason, Camille, Cassian, Olivia, and Julian.
We weren't just friends. We were a force of nature.
We did everything together. We grew up together, went to the same schools, took the same classes.
We were untouchable.
But like all great stories, The Chaos 8 didn't last.
I was the first to leave. Julian was the second. And after that? Everything unraveled.
Now, I'm here, but I don't know if I still belong.
Or if they even want me back.
Because whether I'm ready or not... I'm back.