"Fate."
Ansel opened his eyes.
He detached the tumultuous emotions surging in his heart with indifference, uttering the word he despised the most in a low voice.
Fate, up until now, must have been observing everything.
What he could confirm now was that his feelings for Seraphina were abnormal, surely a delusion fostered by the push and pull of fate.
She was just a girl, a foolish, arrogant, prideful girl who always caused trouble.
Ansel had met others who were gentler than her, more beautiful than her, and equally, if not more, infatuated with him.
He knew countless girls like that, so why should he be attracted to Seraphina, who was inferior to them in every aspect? Why had his feelings for her escalated to this point?
Without a doubt, it was fate playing tricks, Ansel told himself.
