Chapter 2: Not a little girl anymore

Clara made her way to the patio, the familiar spot where she and her friends always met before classes. The old stone benches and blooming flowerbeds were a comforting sight, a small sanctuary amidst the chaos of school life. As she approached, she saw her friends already gathered: Jessica, Emma and Sophie, her closest friends, perhaps her only ones at this point in her life. Clara's family's financial struggles made her an outcast at Rosewood, where wealth often defined social status. Jessica Richmond, drawn to Clara's kindness and intelligence, took her under her wing despite her reputation, forming a tight trio with Emma Dawson and Sophie Merced. The three girls spotted Clara approaching their spot.

“Clara Marianne Bertrand Miller!” Jessica called out, practically bouncing on her toes. “Who was that tall, hot sugar daddy who dropped you off in that custom Ferrari?”

Clara barely had time to set her bag down before the barrage of questions began.

“Oh my God, Clara, spill! Who is he?” Emma chimed in, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Clara held up her hands, trying to calm them down. “It was Mr. Belfort! Adrian Belfort. He’s not a sugar daddy, he’s just a friend of my father. Well, not a friend. He’s my dad’s stepbrother.”

The effect of her words was immediate. The girls exchanged shocked looks, their excitement growing even more intense.

“Adrian Belfort?” Emma repeated, her voice tinged with awe. “The Adrian Belfort? He’s like, super reserved and mysterious… I don’t know a single person who has ever met him! And he has been your uncle all along!?”

Jessica nodded vigorously. “And he’s even hotter in person! And he was just there dropping you off at school! How is that even possible?”

Emma crossed her arms, a skeptical look on her face. “Clara… The most shy, quiet and innocent of all of us bagged a hot billionaire all to herself? Unbelievable! It’s always the quiet ones…”

Clara felt her cheeks warming under their scrutiny. “It’s not what you think! He’s family, okay? He’s like a brother to my dad, he has known me since I was a little girl.” The girls laughed sarcastically. Clara shook her head, the blush deepening as she laughed nervously. “No, really, guys. It’s nothing like that. He was at my house this morning and offered me a ride to school, he was just being nice. He’s practically an uncle to me.”

Sophie leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “The way he was looking at you back there didn’t seem very uncle-like, Clara.”

Jessica smirked. “Yeah, and you’re not a little girl anymore. You’re eighteen!”

Clara’s mind raced, trying to find the right words to downplay the situation. “You’re all crazy. Mr. Belfort would never look at me like that. He’s just a family friend.”

Emma shrugged, a playful grin on her lips. “If you say so. But I don’t think we’re the crazy ones here. I mean, you have a driver. Why would he even offer a ride if he didn’t have any intentions?”

“You guys are reading too much into this,” Clara finally said, forcing a laugh. “He was just being polite and offered me a ride. That’s all.”

“Maybe,” Jessica said, a knowing smile on her lips. “But if I were you, a ride to school wouldn’t be the only kind of ride I would try to get from him…”

Clara shook her head again, trying to dismiss the thought. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We have more important things to talk about. Like the math test tomorrow.”

The girls groaned in unison, and the conversation shifted back to the mundane worries of school life. The bell rang, signaling the start of classes, and Clara sighed with relief. The conversation would have to be put on hold. As they gathered their things and headed to their classrooms, Clara couldn’t shake the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She replayed the morning in her head, from the unexpected encounter to the intense look in his eyes as he held her in his arms and kept her from falling. It was all too surreal. Her friends’ words echoed in her mind, mingling with the memory of Adrian’s intense gaze.

Adrian was rich, handsome, and incredibly successful. And also much older than her, he would be 39 now if she remembered it correctly. He moved in circles filled with the most beautiful, sophisticated women in the world—supermodels who were far more glamorous and worldly than she could ever hope to be. She was just a simple schoolgirl, shy and innocent as her friends like to say, with little experience beyond the sheltered life she had always known. Also, Adrian had known her since she was a child, he watched her grow up until he moved permanently to Europe when she was fourteen years old. To him, she was probably still that little girl, sweet and naive, pretty much his niece. Why would he see her as anything more?

It seemed inconceivable that a man like Adrian Belfort would ever look at her with anything other than friendly affection.