Liam, Kingsley University’s undisputed campus heartthrob, had just landed himself in a massive mess. The Prom Queen had gone live across every platform, calling him out for using her and throwing her away — and now millions of viewers were demanding he get kicked out of Kingsley University. The thing was, he and the Prom Queen had only ever crossed paths once. He hadn’t said a single word to her the entire time. Just as Liam was settling in to watch the drama unfold from a safe distance, a hundred helicopters suddenly descended on the campus quad. Black-suited bodyguards from the Hayes family — the wealthiest family in the country — dropped to their knees in unison: “Welcome home, Young Master!” Turns out he was the long-lost heir of the Hayes family, missing for eighteen years. Great. So it was finally his turn to have absurd wealth fall out of the sky. But there was one thing he’d never quite gotten around to mentioning: That “fuckboy” everyone was calling out? Was a girl. The quad at Kingsley University was today’s hottest entertainment. In a livestream pulling tens of millions of viewers, the chat was absolutely flooded with “die, you player.” On camera, Blair — the campus sweetheart from the Dance Department — was sobbing her eyes out, holding up what she called a “certified psychological trauma assessment.” “Guys, I literally can’t even! I am so done! Liam isn’t just a fuckboy—he’s emotionally manipulating me! Waaah, didn’t you promise I was your only one? Now you’re not only cheating, but you’re letting your new girl cyberbully me! You are completely heartless! I’m going to expose your true colors to the entire internet!” Every word Blair spoke dripped with raw pain, and the bullet comments erupted. 【OMG?? LIAM?? The guy who’s so hot it should be illegal??】 【I’m literally shaking rn. He looks so cold and untouchable but he’s out here doing THIS??】 【DUMP HIM. DUMP HIM. DUMP HIM. Fuckboys don’t deserve rights. Get OUT of Kingsley University!!】 Out on the quad, at the center of all that fury, the so-called “villain” of the story — Liam — was leaning against the basketball hoop, face completely blank, grinding ranked matches on his phone. Here’s the thing about Kingsley’s legendary campus heartthrob: she — Liam — was actually a girl. She’d been raised as a boy by her mother since childhood, after their family was targeted by enemies who wanted them dead. Watching Blair’s spectacularly bad acting, Liam felt absolutely nothing. If anything, she kind of wanted to laugh. Emotionally manipulating? Cheating? Girl, do you have some fundamental misunderstanding about my sexuality? She and Blair had crossed paths exactly once — and that was when Blair had deliberately walked into her and spilled a bubble tea all over her, trying to start something. Liam hadn’t spared her a single word in response. And from that… she’d spun an entire award-worthy tragic romance? Honestly, the talent. She was wasting it not being a screenwriter. “Liam, you are so done for. You’re basically public enemy number one right now,” her pudgy roommate said beside her, sweating bullets. Liam calmly secured a pentakill. “Hm.” “They’re saying you only look good on the outside and there’s nothing worth seeing underneath!” Liam put her phone away. “Sure.” Just as Blair was gearing up for her grand emotional finale — rallying the entire campus to boycott Liam — a deafening roar split the sky. The wind surged. Dirt and debris went flying everywhere. Every student and faculty member on campus looked up in stunned disbelief as ten massive helicopters — each one bearing the Hayes family crest — circled overhead like a storm rolling in. The cabin doors swung open. Dozens of men in black, fully armed and wearing dark sunglasses, rappelled down on ropes, radiating pure authority — straight out of a Hollywood action film. At the front was a man with a deep scar cutting across his face. He swept his gaze across the crowd, and it locked onto Liam with laser precision. Then, with tens of millions of livestream viewers watching in stunned silence, the entire group of suited-up enforcers dropped to one knee in unison. “Young Master! We’re here to bring you home!” The words rang out like thunder. Every student and teacher on campus: ??? Blair: ??? Liam: … Scarface pulled out a yellowed photograph. “By order of the head of the family — the missing young master bears a crescent-shaped scar on the collarbone. We confirmed your identity through the DNA from your school enrollment physical. You are the Hayes family’s long-lost heir — missing for eighteen years!” The Hayes family？ The richest family in the country. Those two phrases hit the livestream chat like depth charges. The whole thing crashed. Blair’s expression froze solid. The grief on her face dissolved into barely-concealed ecstasy in an instant. She’d started this trying to take down the campus heartthrob — and she’d accidentally stumbled into the heir to the most powerful family in the country? She lunged forward, putting on her most pitiful face. “L… Dorian, I didn’t know you were — I didn’t mean any of this—” Scarface didn’t even glance at her. He raised one hand. “Young Master, this way, please.” Liam — a combat prodigy with ten years of boxing under her belt — was nevertheless “escorted” onto the helicopter by two of the men. She looked down at the crowd below, every single one of them standing there completely dumbstruck. One thought ran through her mind: This world has officially lost the plot in a way I no longer recognize.
When Liam was airlifted onto the Hayes family estate by helicopter, she felt like she’d accidentally logged into a pay-to-win whale’s private server. The estate stretched across a thousand acres. A gleaming castle stood at its center. Even the stone lions flanking the entrance were studded with diamonds. “Young master, welcome home.” The butler bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, precise as a programmed AI. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes had been waiting for some time. Mrs. Hayes pulled Liam into a fierce embrace, sobbing hard enough to shake her whole body. “My baby! Mom finally found you!” Liam went completely rigid. Ma’am, squeeze any tighter and I’m going to pass out. Mr. Hayes’ eyes were faintly red. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re home now. That Blair from Kingsley University — I’ve already had people take care of it. Anyone who messes with the Hayes family is signing their own death warrant.” Pure, unfiltered money talking. Liam was just about to say something when a faint sound drifted down from the spiral staircase on the second floor — the soft roll of wheelchair wheels. “Dad, Mom, he just got back. Don’t scare him.” Liam looked up. The man was strikingly handsome. He wore a pure black silk shirt, his face paper-pale, with a deep red flush at the corners of his eyes that made him look beautifully, dangerously sick. He sat in his wheelchair, looking down at her with an expression that hovered somewhere between a smile and something else entirely. The Hayes family’s adopted son — Dorian Hayes. “Liam, welcome home.” Dorian steered his wheelchair toward her and extended a hand — pale, long-fingered, graceful. Dorian narrowed her eyes. His gaze was like a snake’s — sharp, probing, not even bothering to hide it. She reached out and took his hand. His skin was ice-cold. “Hi,” she said. Short and simple. Dorian let out a quiet laugh. His thumb moved almost absently across the back of her hand, sending a shiver through her. “Such soft hands, Liam. Not very manly at all.” Liam yanked her hand back. Her eyes went cold in an instant. Was he testing her? “You should worry less about other people when you’re not exactly in perfect health yourself,” Liam shot back without missing a beat. “Thinking too hard tends to shorten a person’s life, you know.” The air went still. Mrs. Hayes startled. “Liam! Is that any way to talk to your brother?” But Dorian raised a hand to stop her, his smile growing wider, a wild light flickering deep in those dark eyes. “It’s fine, Mom. This attitude of his… I like it.” Mr. and Mrs. Hayes were determined to make it up to Liam — and they were not holding back. To give Liam the kind of presence befitting a Hayes heir, Mr. Hayes arranged eight personal bodyguards, each standing six-foot-three, on 24-hour watch. Mrs. Hayes, meanwhile, had gone all out decorating Liam’s room — an all-black color scheme, various bladed weapons mounted on the walls, and a bed shaped like a race car. Liam stared at the bed for a long moment. Someone please help me. Mom’s version of love is a little too intense. “Liam, do you love it? I did so much research — guys your age are all into this dark, edgy aesthetic!” Mrs. Hayes looked at her expectantly, practically begging for praise. Liam forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace. “…Love it. Absolutely love it.” Just then, Dorian was wheeled in by his nurse. He glanced around the room and laughed under his breath. “Mom, are you sure this is for our little brother and not for some hardcore edgelord?” Liam took a slow breath. Does this guy ever drop the sarcasm for even five seconds? “I think it’s great.” Liam shoved her hands in her pockets and looked at him coldly. “Better than certain people who are stuck in a wheelchair and can’t even afford to be edgy.” The light in Dorian’s eyes dimmed. He waved for the nurse and Mrs. Hayes to leave. The two of them were alone in the room. The air shifted — sharp, coiled, ready to snap.
Dorian steered his wheelchair toward her, closing the distance until the footrest pressed against the tips of her shoes. He tilted his head back slightly, gazing up at Liam’s cool, unreadable face. “Liam.” He said her name — voice low and rough, with a thread of something that felt almost obsessive. “What exactly are you hiding?” Liam looked down at him, then slowly leaned in — both hands braced on the armrests of his wheelchair, caging him in place. Their noses nearly touched. Their breath mingled. “You want to know?” Liam’s mouth curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Then beg me.” Dorian’s breath caught. The wildness in his eyes nearly spilled over. He reached up in one swift motion and grabbed her tie, yanking her down hard. Liam was pulled forward, her lips grazing his ear. “Patience,” Dorian murmured against her ear, his voice low and intoxicating. “The best hunts… are the ones you take your time with.” Liam shoved him away and straightened her tie, eyes cold as ice. “Who’s the prey here? That’s still up for debate.” Push and pull. The tension between them had been pushed to its absolute limit. A frenemy had been right by my side all along. To formally introduce their recovered heir to the world, the Hayes family decided to throw the gala of the century. Liam was planted in front of a mirror and forced to endure the torture of a top-tier stylist. A perfectly tailored white haute couture suit traced every line of her lean, upright figure. Her hair was swept back, revealing a smooth forehead and sharp, striking eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror. Way too much corporate drone energy. Dorian sat nearby, red wine in hand, his gaze roaming over her without the slightest attempt to hide it. “Your waist is too small,” Dorian said suddenly, a barely perceptible roughness in his voice. The stylist blinked. “Dorian, this is already the smallest size we carry.” “I said—” Dorian kept his eyes fixed on Liam, the way someone studies a piece of art they consider exclusively theirs. “Her waist. Is too small. Not exactly… manly.” Liam’s heart skipped a beat, but her expression didn’t crack. “Are you jealous of my figure? I mean, spending all that time in a wheelchair does cause muscle atrophy. Totally understandable.” Instead of getting angry, Dorian let out a low, quiet laugh. “Is that so? Then tonight, I’ll make sure to get a good, long look at my little brother’s ‘great figure.’” The gala was held at a seven-star hotel owned by the Hayes family. Politicians, executives, and power players from every corner of society had gathered under one roof. Liam moved through the crowd on autopilot, champagne in hand — a hollow smile plastered on her face as she dealt with wave after wave of people trying to get close to her. Just as Hayes Sr. was about to step up to the podium for his speech, the doors to the banquet hall burst open. A woman with wild, disheveled hair and torn clothes came charging in, a fruit knife clutched in her hand. It was Blair. After being blacklisted by the Hayes family, she hadn’t just been expelled from school — she’d been buried under a mountain of debt. She had completely lost it. “Liam! You destroyed my life! I’ll take you down with me!” Blair screamed, her voice unhinged. The room erupted into chaos. Before security could move in, Blair pressed the knife to her own throat and screamed at the press cameras: “You’ve all been fooled by him! He’s not some heir to a powerful family! He’s a monster! He’s a rapist!” Camera flashes fired like machine guns. Blair’s sobs came out raw and ragged. “Back at school, he dragged me into the men’s bathroom and assaulted me! I still have the scars he left on my body! The Hayes family covered it all up to protect their reputation! Someone has to stand up for me!” The room erupted. Sexual assault? Rape? This was the scandal of the century. Hayes Sr. was shaking with rage. “Get this lunatic out of here!” “Anyone who touches me — I’ll die right here!” Blair’s emotions had spiraled completely out of control. The blade had already nicked her throat, and a thin line of blood trickled down her neck. No one dared move. Dorian sat in the corner, watching the scene coldly. But his eyes stayed locked on Liam, as if he was waiting to see how she’d play this. Liam let out a slow breath. Fine. Let it all burn. She set down her champagne glass and, under the stunned gazes of every person in the room, walked toward Blair — one step at a time. “You’re saying,” Liam’s voice was quiet and ice-cold, “that I assaulted you in a men’s bathroom?” “That’s right! You animal!” Blair spat through clenched teeth. Liam smiled. It was a wild, wicked smile. Almost dangerous. The next second, she did something that short-circuited every brain in the room. She raised her hand, grabbed the lapel of her suit jacket, and yanked it off — letting it drop to the floor without a second glance. Then her fingers found the first button of her white dress shirt. “What — what are you doing?!” Blair panicked. Liam ignored her. Click. The first button came undone. The entire room fell dead silent. The only sound was the collective sharp intake of breath. Click. The second. Click. The third. When the shirt fell fully open, the room exploded in a roar that could have blown the roof off. There was no flat chest beneath. Under a fitted black sports bra were unmistakably feminine curves — and a waist so slender it looked like it could fit in the span of two hands. Her pale skin practically glowed under the lights.
Liam stared at the completely frozen Blair, her voice cutting through the entire banquet hall: “Have you ever heard of a rapist… who’s a woman?” A woman?! The Hayes family’s long-lost son, missing for eighteen years… was actually a woman?! Camera flashes lit up the room like broad daylight. The entire banquet hall descended into a madness unlike anything it had ever seen. The knife slipped from Blair’s hand and clattered to the floor. Her eyes rolled back, and she dropped like a stone. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes stood frozen, like they’d been struck by lightning. Their whole understanding of reality shattered into pieces. And in the corner of the room. Dorian watched the girl on the stage — half her shirt undone, wild and untamed — as the madness and possessiveness in his eyes finally broke loose completely. He crushed the wine glass in his fist in one sudden motion. Blood seeped through his fingers, but he didn’t even notice. He just stared at Liam, a sick, burning smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Caught you… Liam.” The dinner party scandal wrapped up in the most chaotic way possible. The Kingsley University forum crashed again. Liam had gone from “scumbag playboy prince” to “the queen every girl would kneel for” without missing a beat. [First I doubted her. Then I got it. Now I’m literally her dog. Step on me!] [Girl in disguise exposes a two-faced snake — wait, is this an actual girlboss power fantasy or real life?!] [I always said she was too pretty to be a guy. Turns out she’s a girl! I’m officially declaring it — Liam is my one and only wife!] Inside the Hayes family, though, it was like a magnitude-8 earthquake had just hit. After the initial wave of shock, disbelief, and full-blown existential crisis, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes bounced back at impressive speed. “Honey! We have a daughter! We finally have our sweet little girl!” Mrs. Hayes cried, slapping her thigh in excitement. “Exactly! We have to make up for everything we missed! Get that racing car bed out of here — tear it down and replace it with something pink!” Mr. Hayes declared, waving his hand. And so began Liam’s personal hell. Her room was transformed into a sea of pink. Lace, bows, Barbie dolls — everything you could imagine. Her wardrobe was stuffed with designer princess dresses, every single one screaming cute. Liam lay sprawled across the pink princess bed, feeling like a tough guy who’d been forcibly squeezed into a tiny frilly dress. She had absolutely zero will to go on. Knock knock. A rap on the door. Dorian wheeled himself in. He was wearing a white knit sweater today, looking completely harmless — but Liam knew that if you cut this guy open, he’d be rotten on the inside. He glanced around at the sea of pink and let out a soft laugh. “Looks like my little sister is very pleased with her new room.” Liam rolled her eyes. “Which eye of yours sees me being pleased? And by the way — who exactly is your sister?” Dorian maneuvered his wheelchair to the side of the bed, then suddenly leaned in, planting both hands on either side of her, caging her between himself and the mattress. He was dangerously close. Liam could even catch the faint, cool scent of him. “If not that, then what do I call you?” Dorian’s voice dropped, low and rough, laced with a thread of dangerous playfulness. “How about… elder sister?” Liam’s heart stuttered, but her expression didn’t crack. She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward her until their noses nearly touched. “Dorian, don’t play games with me.” Her eyes were sharp as a blade. “You’ve known I was a girl this whole time, haven’t you?” From the first time he’d said her hands were too soft, to the comment at the dinner party about her waist being too slim — this guy had been watching her little act the entire time! Dorian didn’t deny it. He let her grip his collar, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve always known. So what? What are you going to do to punish me?” He drew the word out deliberately, his voice warm with something tender and unsettling. Liam let out a cold laugh and released him, shoving his wheelchair back with her foot. The chair rolled backward, but Dorian stayed perfectly composed in his seat, his smile only deepening. “Go get help if something’s wrong with you.” Liam climbed off the bed. “Don’t come here losing your mind.” “But you’re the only one who can cure me.” Dorian watched her walk away, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. Push and pull. Tension cranked all the way up. Liam knew — she’d just been zeroed in on by a mad dog.
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