Filed to story: That Campus Prince Is a Girl
He needed to see him in person.
“Alright then,” Helen said brightly. “I’ll wait for you here.”
She hung up and quickly sent him the location.
Then she hummed to herself while waiting for her turn.
Before she went in, she gave her bodyguards instructions-Once Cameron came out, don’t let him leave. Lance was on the way, and they needed them stall him.
So when Cameron finished her test and stepped back into the lobby, four bodyguards surrounded her immediately.
Cameron’s brow furrowed slightly. “Something you need?”
The lead bodyguard stepped forward. “Sorry to bother you, sir. Ms. Yates asked us to wait for you. She just wants a quick word. She’s stilt inside Exkur her test, but she’ll be out shortly.”
Cameron immediately knew it was Helen’s doing. “Not interested,” she said, already turning to leave.
But the four didn’t move. “Sir, we mean no harm. Ms. Yates just wants to have a conversation, that’s all.”
“Move,” Cameron said flatly, her patience gone.
The four bodyguards exchanged glances. They didn’t want to push Cameron too far, so they reluctantly took half a step back.
“Sir, we really don’t mean any harm,” one of them said.
Still, none of them moved aside to let Cameron leave. They’d never hear the end of it from Helen if they lost him now.
Just then, the screech of tires cut through the tension as a deep blue Pagani came to an abrupt stop behind them.
The door swung open, and a tall young man stepped out.
He was striking-handsome with sharp, cold features, and eyes but the aura he projected was all control and authority. that carried an edge of danger even in a passing glance. He looked barely over twenty,
“Mr. Yates,” one of the bodyguards greeted, instantly straightening.
Cameron turned at the sound of the name.
She froze.
‘He… He looks just like me.’
But where she had the delicate, refined features of a boy pulled straight out of a manga, he had the hard-cut, commanding presence of someone who could shut down a room just by walking into it.
The resemblance was undeniable-but their energy couldn’t have been more different.
Cameron stared at him.
And Lance stared right back.
The moment their eyes met, a flicker of something passed through Lance’s otherwise unreadable expression.
‘We look alike. A lot.’
The photo had hinted at it. But in person, it was almost unsettling.
The bodyguards glanced between the two of them. The similarity was more than just casual-now that they were side by side, it was impossible to ignore.
The only real differences were in height and build. Cameron was lean, smaller, delicate even. Lance stood close to 6’3″, broad-shouldered and intimidating without trying.
“What’s your name?” Lance asked first.
His voice was low, smooth, and carried a magnetic edge that demanded attention.
Cameron snapped out of her thoughts. Instead of answering, she asked, “What’s yours?”
“Lance Yates,” he said simply.
“I’m Cameron Wallace.”
Lance repeated it under his breath. “Cameron Wallace…”
Then, without thinking, he asked, “How old are you?”
The moment she saw him, a single thought had crossed her mind, could he be related to me?
She didn’t know him, not really. And she had no intention of offering up her personal details to someorie she couldn’t trust yet.
So she countered, “How old are you?”
Lance frowned slightly. “Do you always answer questions with more questions?”
“I decline to answer,” Cameron said casually.
Lance exhaled. “I’m twenty-one.”
“I’m eighteen.”
Lance’s pupils contracted. “What did you say? You’re eighteen?”
Three years younger than him.
His stillborn baby brother… had also been three years younger.
That wasn’t possible.
Absolutely not.
His brother had died at birth. Asphyxiation. His mother had collapsed from the shock, passed out multiple times. Even after the doctors declared the baby dead, she refused to let go, holding him tight for hours.
She’d only agreed to the burial after everyone begged her to let go.
So there was no way.
And yet… this teenager standing in front of him looked exactly like him. And he had just said he was eighteen.
Cameron gave a small nod. “Yeah. Eighteen. You done asking now?”
Lance didn’t speak.
This kid seemed so composed-but clearly had a bit of an attitude foo.
“I’d like you to be honest with me about everything,” Lance said, leveling his gaze. “But even if you won’t talk, I’ll find out on my own.”
“Then go ahead and look into it,” Cameron said without hesitation.
Lance didn’t speak.
Yet she turned and started walking off.
“Sir…” one of the bodyguards said tentatively, unsure whether to stop her again.
Lance stood still, watching Cameron walk away. He raised a hand to stop the bodyguards.
He needed to confirm the lacts before doing anything rash.
Logically, he knew there was no way Cameron could be his dead brother.
Rot something about this kid had sparked a strange curiosity he couldn’t shake. He needed to know more.
By the time Helen came out of the testing center, Cameron was gone.
“Lance, there you are! Where’s the pretty boy?” she asked, looking around.
“He left,” Lance said plainly.
“What? Already? You guys let him leave?” she complained.
Lance didn’t respond. He just got in the car and said, “Take her home.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the guards answered.
“Wait-Lance, where are you going?” Helen called after him.
The only answer she got was the roar of the Pagani’s engine.
“Ugh, gross!” she cried, backing away from the exhaust fumes and covering her nose..
‘Lance and that damn attitude. You’d think he could show a little warmth to someone as cute as me.’
