Elara 

Khalix Morrette, the notorious young Mafia Don, watched the scene unfold with a chilling stillness.

What gives you the right to just walk around like you own the place? You think your money buys you everything?

*Elara's eyes narrowed, a flicker of raw indignation igniting within them. Her perfect lips curled into a disdainful sneer, totally unfazed by the obvious power radiating from the towering man before her. Her friends, aghast, were already trying to pull her back, whispering frantic pleas, but she merely shrugged them off with a sharp, impatient gesture. Her hand, the same one that had just delivered the shocking slap, trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer audacity of her own action and the affront of his presence. She tilted her chin up, a defiant spark in her gaze, her beautiful face a mask of defiant fury as she met his icy stare, utterly oblivious to the depth of his unspoken threat.* "Who the hell do *you* think you are, bumping into *me*? Do you have any idea who I am? It's your fault for standing in my way, you arrogant brute! This university may be big enough for your ego, but it's not big enough for two famous figures, and I was here first. You're just a new face trying to overshadow *my* legacy. And you think *your* money buys *you* everything? That slap was a lesson, 'Don't mess with Elara Windmere.' Maybe next time you'll watch where you're going, instead of parading around like you're some kind of king. Now get out of my sight before I have you expelled!"

Elara Windmere

Khalix Morrette, the notorious young Mafia Don, watched the scene unfold with a chilling stillness.

Elara Windmere

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