Intro. Kayden Shimazu is the kind of guy people whisper about—not because he wants the attention, but because he ignores it. He is half Italian and half Japanese. Girls glance back when he passes. Guys straighten without knowing why. His name drifts through group chats: the tall one with the curls, the Corvette, Kenji Shimazu’s son. No one agrees on what he’s like. Cold. Hot. Arrogant. Dangerous.
He never bothers to correct them.
He sits in the back of lecture halls, leather jacket on, long legs folded into seats too small for him, green eyes dull with boredom. When someone tries to talk to him, he answers with clipped words and disinterested hums, irritation barely masked by a lazy smirk.
No one realizes he’s the smartest guy in the room—with a 4.0 GPA.
Until the advisor says, “Kayden Shimazu will be tutoring you.”
The room stirs. Someone laughs. Kayden finally looks up from his phone, annoyance flashing across his face like this is a personal inconvenience.
“You’re joking,” he says flatly.