My Reborn Admirer Wins Over My Heart novel Chapter 6

**TITLE: He Returned to Break and Own Me and for His Queen**

**Chapter 6: An Unimportant Person**

Evander remained blissfully unaware of Oriana’s entrance, his face alight with a smile as he soothed Luna over the phone. “Not a problem at all! I merely oversaw five rounds of edits. I just wrapped it up and sent it your way.”

“Wonderful! Let’s grab a bite when you’re free. And happy early birthday for your speech at the mobilization meeting!” Luna chirped, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

Once the call ended, Evander turned, only to find Oriana’s gaze fixed on him, a mocking smirk dancing on her lips. Instantly, the brightness of his expression dimmed, replaced by a shadow of irritation.

“What brings you here? The decision regarding the speaking representative was made by the school administration. Coming to me won’t change a thing,” he retorted, his tone dripping with indifference.

Oriana felt a wave of disbelief wash over her at his blatant lack of empathy. How could he be so callous?

What shocked her even more was Luna’s complicity in this scheme.

With unwavering resolve, Oriana declared, “I’m not here to speak; I want my speech back.”

Evander paused, momentarily taken aback, before a laugh escaped him, mocking and dismissive.

“Oriana, are you alright? Others would give anything for this opportunity. Luna is ready to use your speech, and you should be celebrating! Why are you making such a fuss?” he sneered, his arrogance palpable.

Fists clenched tightly at her sides, Oriana felt the weight of injustice pressing down on her.

The graduate program she had worked so hard for, the chance to speak, and even Grant—how could Luna take all of it from her?

Time and again, Luna had stepped back, but why should Oriana’s hard work be sacrificed for her sister’s gain?

“I refuse to agree. They may want it, but my speech is not meant for Luna,” Oriana shot back defiantly, her voice steady.

Evander’s expression hardened, a cold mask settling over his features. “This isn’t about your personal feelings; it’s about the honor of the school.”

“Fine. If you won’t consider my perspective, I’ll speak to the person in charge and ask if he condones the vice president stealing a student’s work,” she warned, her resolve unshakeable.

Turning on her heel, Oriana prepared to leave, but Evander’s voice rang out, furious and desperate. “Damn it, are you pushing your luck? Come back!”

With graduation looming for the council president and Evander next in line, he couldn’t allow Oriana to jeopardize his future.

In a fit of anger, he lunged forward, attempting to seize Oriana’s hand, to pull her back into the confines of his office.

But as he did, Oriana stumbled, the sudden force throwing her off balance. Her ankle scraped harshly against the unforgiving cement steps, tearing the skin and causing blood to flow freely.

“Oriana?” a voice called, concern lacing the syllables.

In the sterile environment of the school clinic, the doctor applied antiseptic to her wound, the sharp sting eliciting a grimace from her as beads of sweat trickled down her forehead.

At that moment, she heard a familiar voice and instinctively turned her head.

Grant approached, his tall figure impeccably dressed, moving with a certain urgency that was uncharacteristic of him. He leaned on a sleek black cane adorned with silver studs, and the sight of him in such a state of distress was jarring.

His gaze immediately fell upon Oriana’s injured leg, now wrapped in gauze. Even after treatment, the blood that seeped through constricted his chest painfully, twisting his heart into a tight knot.

He settled beside her on the bed, breathing carefully, then gently brushed his fingers through her damp hair. “Oriana, does it hurt?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Oriana noticed the worry etched on his face, and she couldn’t help but take in the tailored suit he wore—something he never donned in their usual settings.

It was clear where he had acquired it.

Lowering her gaze slightly, she replied, “Not really.”

“You’re terrified of needles. There’s no way a wound this size wouldn’t hurt,” Grant said, his voice tight with restrained emotion.

His feelings surged, and Oriana could see the effort it took for him to maintain composure.

He suspected she was downplaying her pain to spare him from worry.

“Don’t fret. I’ll ensure you receive justice. I won’t allow whoever hurt you to escape unpunished,” Grant vowed fiercely.

Just then, his phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He glanced at the screen. “It’s the person in charge. Wait here—I’ll be back soon.”

With a reassuring pat on her hand, he stood up to take the call.

Oriana lay back against the pillows, faintly catching snippets of his heated conversation on the other end.

Gradually, his fury seemed to dissipate, his tone softening.

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