The day the Vereen empire crumbled, everyone expected me to break off my engagement to Seraphina. But as the downpour hammered the city, I was the one holding an umbrella over her, shielding her rain-soaked, broken figure as I guided her into my car. “Here’s a hundred million,” I told her, my voice low and steady. “If you succeed, you come back and marry me. If you fail, I’ll come and marry you.” Five years later, Seraphina Vereen returned to Veridia City, a titan of industry with three publicly traded companies at her back. In front of a wall of flashing cameras, she made her grand announcement: “Landon Shaw and I terminated our engagement five years ago.” 1 In those five years, another man had been by her side. A man who gave her a shoulder to lean on when she was exhausted, who comforted her when she was broken, who applauded her triumphs. They had weathered the storm together, a perfect match born from hardship and mutual devotion. And the man who had staked a hundred million on her comeback? He was now the city’s biggest joke. “This is three hundred million. Consider my debt of gratitude repaid.” The Seraphina who stood before me now was a world away from the girl I once knew. The youthful innocence was gone, replaced by a cool, commanding confidence. She was a powerhouse, radiating an almost dangerous allure. It was that allure that had first captivated me, making me defy my own father to back her when she had nothing. Even now, a single glance was enough to ignite a possessive fire within me. I picked up the credit card she’d placed on the table and handed it to my assistant behind me. My face was a blank mask, my voice devoid of warmth. “Check the balance. I want every last cent.” Sera watched the assistant take the card, letting out a long sigh as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. I observed her subtle shift in expression and chuckled, a low, careless sound. “You think that makes us even?” Her spine straightened, her expression turning serious. “Mr. Shaw, if you ever need anything in the future, you have only to ask. I, Seraphina Vereen, will not refuse.” She paused, then added with deliberate weight, “Anything but marriage.” She said it with such earnest gravity, playing the part of the honorable debtor. I wasn’t buying it. “That watch you won at the auction yesterday,” I said, my tone casual. “I like it. Have it on my desk by morning.” She’d paid a fortune for that timepiece. It was a one-of-a-kind, a global exclusive she had reportedly bought for her fiancé, Leo Price. I wondered what a certain someone might think if it suddenly appeared on my wrist. Seeing her hesitate, I rose from my chair and headed for the stairs, not bothering to look back. “If a CEO’s word means nothing, then just consider my request a joke.” The next day, the watch was on my desk. I held it up, admiring the intricate craftsmanship. A masterpiece of engineering, worth a king’s ransom. It would pair perfectly with my custom suit for the evening’s gala. Sera arrived with Leo on her arm. I, of course, was alone. The whispers started almost immediately, growing louder as the night wore on. Everyone was buzzing, wondering why the engagement gift she’d bought for her fiancé was now gracing my wrist. Eventually, the fiancé in question made his way toward me, a practiced smile on his face. “Mr. Shaw,” Leo began, his tone smooth. “Sera explained everything. The watch was a gesture of her gratitude.” I took a slow sip of my champagne and turned away, dismissing him. He wasn’t worth my time. But he persisted, a new, sharper edge to his voice. “I guess all that money can’t buy you the first thing about how to love someone, can it? Otherwise, Sera would never have chosen me.” I looked at the half-empty glass in my hand and decided it wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. I reached for a slice of cake from a nearby table, and with a flick of my wrist, I smashed it directly into his smug, smiling face. A collective gasp rippled through the room, all eyes turning to us. Sera was at his side in an instant, pulling a handkerchief from her purse to wipe the cream from his stunned face. Her voice was sharp with accusation as she turned on me. “What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Shaw? Why are you tormenting my fiancé?” I dropped the empty cake plate, wiped my fingers with a napkin, and shrugged. “He was ruining my appetite.” Leo adopted a look of pained forbearance, a masterclass in male fragility. “I was just telling Mr. Shaw that I don’t mind him taking my watch,” he said to the onlookers, his voice trembling slightly. “As long as it helps him feel better, I’ll do anything.” That was all it took. My arch-rival, Ryder Thorne, who was lounging nearby, chimed in with performative outrage. “There goes Landon Shaw again, throwing his weight around. Thinks his family’s money gives him the right to take whatever he wants.” A chorus of condemnation followed as others joined in, painting me as the arrogant, spoiled heir everyone loved to hate. Through it all, I maintained a polite, detached smile, my eyes locked on Sera’s. Her gaze was a dark, unreadable storm. After a long, tense moment, she finally said, “Let’s go.” She took Leo’s hand and led him away. The sight of their retreating backs was like a thorn in my eye. We were engaged at eighteen. The Sera I knew then was sweet and innocent. A careless joke from me was enough to make a delicate blush bloom across her fair cheeks. I loved to tease her, the way a man loves to fluster a woman he desires. The day her family’s company collapsed, it was as if she grew up overnight. Her gaze became steel, her entire being radiating an unbreakable defiance. I knew she would succeed. I just forgot that once she did, she might not remember the promise she’d made to me. Do I regret it? I never do anything I regret. I was the one who lifted her up. I can be the one to drag her back into the mud. 2 From that night on, wherever Seraphina Vereen appeared, I was sure to be there. If she bid on a parcel of land, I doubled her offer. If she competed for a contract, I undercut her by half. When it came to a war of wealth, she was still an amateur. While she was struggling to turn her hundred million into something in some forgotten corner of the country, I was already the undisputed king of Veridia City. Finally, she broke. She came to my office alone, ready to surrender. She stood before me, tears shimmering in her eyes, but her gaze was as defiant as ever. “This isn’t doing you any favors, Mr. Shaw. Even the Shaw fortune has its limits. You can’t keep burning money like this.” So, she was here to lecture me. I glanced past her shoulder toward the empty doorway. “Where’s your fiancé?” I asked, my voice flat. “Isn’t he going to apologize?” Her full, red lips pressed into a thin line. She lowered her gaze, her voice laced with forced sincerity. “I apologize on his behalf for what happened that night.” Then, her tone shifted. “However, you were the one who resorted to violence first. Regardless of the circumstances, both sides share the blame.” Fine. So much for an apology. A smirk played on my lips. I leaned back, feigning regret. “I admit, I was too soft on him. You’d better tell him to stay far away from me. Next time, it won’t be just a piece of cake.” Seeing that I was immovable, Sera dropped the pretense of compromise. Her face darkened. “If you refuse to leave my fiancé alone, then there’s nothing more to discuss. I’ll see you on the battlefield.” I leaned back on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, the very picture of arrogant power. “Excellent. I’ll be waiting.” After leaving my office, Sera began reaching out to industry leaders, trying to forge new alliances. But in Veridia, all it took was one word from me, and no one dared to work with her. On top of that, the Vereen collapse had entangled many powerful figures. Besides me, plenty of people wanted to see her fail. What I hadn’t anticipated was that her fiancé, Leo, was an influencer with millions of followers. He posted a video online, a tearful tirade accusing me of monopolistic practices and deliberately targeting Sera. He spun a sob story about their struggles, painting them as victims and himself as a devoted hero. It struck a chord with his audience, and sympathy for them poured in. My assistant showed me the video. I just laughed. I pulled out my phone and dialed Sera’s number. “That video your fiancé posted. You have two minutes to take it down.” “Everything Leo said is the truth,” she replied, her voice steady. “The truth?” My voice turned to ice. “Are you really prepared to sacrifice the last shred of your dignity?” There was a long silence on the other end. “I’ll have him delete it.” Only a handful of insiders knew about the hundred million I’d given her. If that story got out, she would be the one humiliated. She was a businesswoman, after all. When it came to a cost-benefit analysis, what was a fiancé? 3 Stella Monroe and I grew up together. The night I got engaged to Sera, they say she cried all night. The day the Vereen empire fell, she spent millions on a city-wide fireworks display that lasted until dawn. “It wasn’t for you,” she’d insisted. “I just really, really hate Seraphina Vereen.” It was why we got along so well, and also why we could never stand each other. That night, she invited me to a club to blow off some steam. She’d thoughtfully arranged for eight women to join us—every type imaginable. After a few glasses of whiskey, my true colors came out. I had a sultry vixen on my left and a sweet-faced college girl on my right. Life was good. The door to our private room swung open. Through a drunken haze, I thought I saw Sera’s furious face. No, it was her. “Who invited the party-pooper?” I grumbled. Stella, snuggled up beside me, adjusted the collar of my shirt with a triumphant smirk. “I did. We were short a bartender.” I glanced at her, confused. But Stella was already calling out to the woman in the doorway. “Well? Don’t just stand there. Come pour us some drinks.” She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “She needs a favor from my father for a new project. She wouldn’t dare disobey me.” So, this was about humiliating Sera. A way to get back at her on my behalf? I suppose I could see it that way. While I was processing this, Sera had already picked up a bottle. She knelt before me, her movements fluid and precise, and filled my empty glass. Grace under pressure. Those were the words that came to mind. The shifting, colored lights played across her face, highlighting its cold, fractured beauty. Her eyes were a placid lake, betraying nothing. Even in this position, she radiated an untouchable pride. I deliberately knocked over my glass. The amber liquid spilled across the front of her pristine white blouse. A flicker of annoyance crossed her features, her brow furrowed for a fraction of a second. “Oops,” I said. “Be a dear and pour another.” The rise and fall of her chest, the way she bit her lower lip—every subtle sign betrayed the fury she was holding back. I took the refilled glass and downed the fiery liquor in one gulp. It burned. I grabbed the collar of her blouse and yanked her toward me. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel her warm breath on my skin. I lunged forward. She instinctively jerked her head to the side. The move infuriated me. I grabbed her chin, forced her to face me, and crushed my lips against hers. Sera struggled violently, shoving me away. She scrambled to her feet, the whiskey bottle still in her hand. With a cry of rage, she smashed it on the floor. Shards of glass flew, one slicing a thin, red line across her bare calf. “I’ve paid you back,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “To keep humiliating me like this… it’s too much.” “Too much?” I glanced at Stella. Stella shook her head immediately. “Of course not. If you hadn’t helped her back then, who knows what gutter she’d be begging in right now.” My gaze returned to Sera. “You hear that? You owe me more than just money. You owe me everything.” 4 Sera said nothing. She turned to leave, dragging her bleeding leg behind her. Stella’s bodyguards blocked the door, making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere. Just then, there was a commotion outside. The door burst open, and Leo rushed in. Perfect timing. He planted himself in front of Sera, the valiant knight protecting his princess. “If you lay a single finger on her, I swear I’ll make you pay.” I looked at this man, so full of himself, so utterly clueless, and I burst out laughing. I took two steps forward until I was standing right in front of him. I reached out and patted his cheek lightly. Once. Twice. As my hand came up for a third time, Sera’s fingers clamped around my wrist. “Landon, don’t push it,” she warned, her eyes blazing with a murderous light. I turned to Stella, feigning innocence. “Am I pushing it?” Stella shook her head. “Not at all. She’s the one who stole your woman, after all.” So, that made me the victim here. One was my fiancée, with whom I had yet to officially break our engagement. The other was the man my fiancée called her fiancé. It was a beautiful, twisted mess. “Sera, don’t forget, our engagement is still legally binding,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “For you to publicly claim this man is your fiancé… don’t you think that’s pushing it?” The fire in her eyes dimmed. “Our engagement ended five years ago.” She looked up, meeting my gaze directly. “You didn’t know, did you? Your father had a hand in my family’s downfall.” I refused to believe it. “Then why didn’t he stop me from helping you?” A bitter, quiet laugh escaped her. “It was just a game to him. A cat chasing a mouse. Your family is all the same. Aren’t you just waiting for the right moment to drag me back into the mud?” I was speechless. Because she was right. In the end, it came to blows. I sat on the sofa, a cold spectator to the drama. I watched as Stella’s bodyguards beat Leo to the ground. I saw the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, the gash that opened on his forehead. Sera was shielded beneath him, her voice a desperate cry of “Stop! Stop hitting him!” They carried Leo out. Stella, in a fit of mock charity, had them sent to the hospital. As they were leaving, Sera shot one last look in my direction. Our eyes met, and for a heart-stopping moment, I felt it again—that old spark. The shattered look in her eyes, the mess of her hair… it all pulled at something deep inside me. I wanted to be the one protecting her. All these years, she had buried her vulnerability, showing the world only a shell of unyielding strength. I wanted to find the girl who had once made my heart race. I refused to believe she was truly gone. It was the ghost of that youthful infatuation that fueled my relentless obsession. A few days later, that obsession curdled into pure, unadulterated rage. In an interview, Sera stated unequivocally: “My engagement to Landon Shaw was terminated five years ago.” Reporters camped outside my house, hungry for my side of the story. My side was simple: “Seraphina Vereen took a hundred million from me to rebuild her empire, and then she dumped me.” Half an hour later, headlines screaming about the ungrateful heiress and her boy-toy lover were everywhere. In response, Leo posted a video of Sera’s injured leg, claiming I had a violent temper, that I was emotionally unstable, that I was mentally ill. He even produced a forged therapist’s diagnosis to “prove” I’d been seeing a psychiatrist. The war between us had just begun. I donned a custom suit and attended my company’s new product launch, a serene smile plastered on my face. When reporters asked about my personal life, I deflected every question. “Please, let’s focus on the new product line.” “Miss Vereen? I’m not familiar with her.” “Mr. Price? The name doesn’t ring a bell.” The media went from salivating over the gossip to utter confusion. A mental breakdown? Just days ago, we were at each other’s throats, and now I didn’t know them? My bizarre behavior only fueled their curiosity, driving even more attention to the launch. The new product needed buzz to sell. Now, not only had I saved on marketing costs, but I had also turned myself into a brand. In a VVVVIP room at a private hospital, Sera was resting in bed, her calf wrapped in bandages, watching the news. I sat beside her, quietly peeling an apple. I managed to get the peel off in one long, unbroken spiral. A strange sense of accomplishment washed over me. I held the apple out to her. “Eat.” She smiled at me, a genuine warmth in her eyes. “You have it.” I pulled my hand back and took a huge, crunchy bite. Then I offered it to her again. “It’s crisp and sweet. Go on.” She took it with an amused, exasperated sigh. Just then, we heard a commotion outside the door. It was Leo. “Let me in! I need to see how Sera is!” A guard’s deep voice rumbled, “Mr. Shaw’s orders. No one is allowed inside.” “I’m her fiancé!” Leo protested. “Who the hell is Landon Shaw to keep me from seeing my own fiancée?” Hearing his voice, Sera put the apple down. I glanced toward the door. “Sera, your hired actor is really getting into character.” Her expression was neutral. “I’ll handle it.” The louder our public war, the more our enemies would believe she was truly alone in Veridia. The Vereen collapse had been a web of conspiracy, and my own family was tangled in it. For Sera to return alone was a gamble of the highest stakes. She had to find the ones who framed her family, which meant walking directly into the trap they’d set and waiting for them to reveal themselves. I was a Shaw. I was also her fiancé. And I was the one who had financed her return. By playing the role of her greatest enemy, I was giving her the greatest protection.

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Sunlight warmed my back as I gardened, then a news alert flashed: “Crestwood’s Golden Boy Humiliates Gatecrasher to Please Fiancée.” Lucas Vance—my best friend Lily’s fiancé. Dread coiled in my gut. A month ago, Lily left to plan their wedding in Linwood… then vanished. My contacts swore she was fine. I tapped the video. The “gatecrasher” being thrown out was Lily. Hair tangled, she begged as Lucas coldly held another woman. Guests sneered: “Claiming to be Sophia Song’s best friend? Pathetic.” “Look at her rags—another delusional Cinderella.” Blood streaked the floor where guards dragged her. Lucas never moved. White-knuckling my phone, I booked the next flight to Linwood. Time to meet this realbest friend. 1 Just before I boarded, a new headline hit the top of every newsfeed: Lucas Vance was throwing a lavish engagement party for his fiancée, and the entire high society of Crestwood was invited. The title was splashed in bold, impossible to miss. Seething, I forwarded the article to Lucas with a single, sharp question. “Which one of your little whores is this?” He didn’t reply until after I’d landed. “Watch your mouth, Sophia! I know the Vance family owes a lot to the Songs for our success, but that doesn’t give you the right to question my love for Bianca!” I scoffed at the message. At least he remembered who put his family on the map. If I hadn’t seen that video, seen Lily being dragged away like trash, I might have actually believed his performance of undying love. Bianca. My partner, the woman I’d built our design studio with from the ground up. We’d struggled together through the hardest of times, and I had never, ever seen anyone break her like this. How could this have happened? A month. In just one month, she had been reduced to this. Suppressing the inferno inside me, I dialed Julian Ford. He was the man my mother had arranged for me to marry, and, coincidentally, one of Lucas’s closest friends. It took eighteen calls before he finally picked up. “Who the hell is this? Are you insane?” he snarled into the phone. “It’s me. Sophia Song.” His tone flipped in an instant. All the irritation vanished, replaced by a smooth, honeyed voice. “Sophia! Is everything okay?” “I need an invitation to Lucas Vance’s engagement party.” He sounded practically giddy on the other end. “Sophia, you’re coming to Lucas’s party? I can pick you up, escort you myself…” “No need,” I cut him off, my voice flat and cold. “Just have the invitation sent over. I’m out of town doing research, so I won’t have time to see you.” I hung up before he could say another word and waited for the courier. I’d made a point of hiding my identity, telling him it was for a friend, to avoid raising any suspicion. Invitation in hand, I hailed a cab and headed for the party. The taxi had just pulled up to the curb when another car slammed into our rear bumper. My body jolted forward, and my head cracked against the back of the passenger seat. Before I could even register the pain, the other driver was out of his car, stomping towards us, his face a mask of aggression. “Are you blind? What are you doing stopped here?” he yelled. “This is Mr. White’s private spot! You think you can just take it?” My driver, just an honest man trying to make a living, wanted no trouble. “I’m so sorry, sir, we’ll move right away.” He apologized profusely and pulled the car away from the curb. “Sorry about that, Miss,” he said to me. “You’ll have to walk the rest of the way.” I shook my head, telling him it was fine. Rubbing the new lump on my forehead, I winced as I made my way to the entrance, only to be blocked. It was the driver from the other car. Standing behind him was a man whose custom-tailored suit couldn’t hide his cheap, new-money vibe. The driver gave me a hard shove. “You’re the one who tried to steal Mr. White’s parking spot?” he sneered. I gave them a deadpan look. A private spot? It was just a regular drop-off lane in front of the venue. My silence only seemed to fuel the driver’s arrogance. “Do you have any idea whose party this is tonight? It belongs to Mr. White! He’s Lucas Vance’s future brother-in-law! Who the hell are you? You think you have the right to be here?” The man in the suit, apparently Mr. White, patted his driver’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, tone it down. Let’s be discreet.” Then he turned to me, his eyes raking over my appearance with blatant disdain. “Where did this hick come from? Mud caked on your clothes and shoes, and is that… a carton of eggs in that shabby bag? If you step inside, you might just…” He leaned in, his voice dripping with contempt as he finished, word by word, “…dirty the floor.” The driver chimed in, his eyes full of scorn. “Look at her, Mr. White. Just a country bumpkin. I know! She’s just like that other tramp from yesterday, trying to seduce Mr. Vance!” “Another one with a Cinderella fantasy!” he jeered. “The one who tried that yesterday got thrown out on her ass! There’s a pack of homeless guys out back…” He didn’t get to finish. My hand flew, the crack of my palm against his cheek echoing in the night air. A bright red handprint instantly blossomed on his skin. I glared at him. A mouth that filthy didn’t deserve to speak. “You… you…” he stammered, raising a hand to strike back, but Mr. White stopped him. “Don’t make a scene today, you idiot,” he hissed, then called for security. “This country mouse doesn’t have an invitation. Get her out of here!” As the guards moved towards me, I reached into my bag, pulled out the invitation, and slapped it against Mr. White’s chest. “No need.” 2 Inside the grand ballroom, clusters of guests chatted animatedly. “Did you hear? Sophia Song designed a special necklace for the wedding. She used that thirty-million-dollar pink diamond from the international auction!” “Thirty million? Incredible. I’d kill to see a necklace like that.” “They say Mr. Vance’s fiancée will be wearing it tonight. You came to the right place.” They even stole the necklace I designed specifically for Lily? Fury simmered beneath my skin. I wanted to storm over to Lucas and demand an explanation right then and there, but I forced myself to wait. I had to choose the right moment. Halfway through the evening, Lucas and his so-called “fiancée” finally made their grand entrance. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate my engagement to Bianca,” Lucas announced from the stage. A chorus of congratulations rose from the crowd below. My eyes were locked on Lucas. Bianca was clinging to his arm, looking smug. As he was about to continue, I rushed the stage and snatched the microphone from his hand. The ballroom fell into a stunned silence, followed by a wave of murmurs. “Who let this stray in?” “Another one trying to cash in on the drama.” I turned the microphone on Lucas, my voice ringing out clear and sharp. “Where is Lily?” “Lily? What Lily?” Bianca snapped. “Security! Get this person off the stage!” “I’ll ask you one more time,” I repeated, my voice dangerously low. “Where. Is. Lily?” Bianca flinched, shrinking back into Lucas’s arms with a shriek. I didn’t miss the flicker of panic in his eyes. “Get this crazy woman out of here!” he yelled. I took a step toward Bianca, and they both stumbled back. “You said you were my best friend, didn’t you?” I asked her, my voice laced with ice. “Why are you hiding from me?” “Bullshit!” Bianca shot back immediately. “How could you be my best friend? I don’t even know you!” A few people in the crowd started to connect the dots. “Lucas Vance’s fiancée’s best friend? Isn’t that… Sophia Song?” The moment the name was spoken, the room erupted in laughter. “Her? Don’t be ridiculous! Does she look like a world-renowned designer? She looks like she just crawled out of a barn!” “Dream on, lady.” Lucas’s panic was now palpable. He’d never met me in person, so he had no idea what Sophia Song actually looked like. “Security! Where is security? Get her out of here! Are you all asleep on the job?” His voice trembled slightly. He knew that if I really was Sophia Song, the Vance family was finished. “Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of,” Bianca sneered, emboldened by her position in Lucas’s embrace. “You’re not my best friend.” Someone from the crowd called out with a lewd laugh, “The woman yesterday claimed to be Lucas’s fiancée. You two must be best friends, right?” “Everyone knows what happened to her,” another voice added with a smirk. “And I just saw her getting dragged into the room next door by some guy…” My heart seized in my chest. I spun around, ready to bolt for the next room, but Lucas suddenly grabbed my arm. “Let go of me!” I struggled, but his grip was like iron. “Get the hell out of here!” he hissed. Bianca joined in, pulling at my other arm. “Don’t you know what’s good for you? We’re giving you a chance to leave with your dignity. If you keep making a scene, you’ll be lucky to only spend three to five years in a cell.” A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. I reached for a glass of red wine from a nearby table and flung its contents all over Bianca’s pristine white gown. A piercing shriek echoed through the ballroom as the dark liquid stained her dress. Lucas’s grip loosened for a split second. It was all I needed. I broke free and sprinted toward the room next door. I threw the door open, and my world shattered. The image that greeted me will be burned into my memory forever. Lily was on the sofa, a man pinning her down, her legs kicking in a desperate, futile struggle. The man stopped when he heard the door open and looked up. A primal scream tore from my throat as I launched myself across the room and kicked him off of her. I rushed to Lily’s side. Her clothes were half-torn from her body, her skin a canvas of angry bruises and fresh scratches. My hands trembled as I pulled her dress back into place. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” 3 “You again. The hick from the sticks.” The man I’d kicked to the floor was the same arrogant pig I’d met at the entrance. He scrambled to his feet, fury contorting his features, and swung his open palm at my face. I caught his wrist mid-air and twisted. Hard. I stared him down, my eyes burning with a murderous rage. He started shouting. “Let go! Let go of me, you bitch! Did you hear me? Let go!” His shouts turned into a scream of pure agony, completely oblivious to the crowd of guests now watching from the doorway. “Please, I’m begging you, let go! My arm, it’s going to break!” I held on until I heard the sickening crack of bone, then released him. His face went pale. “You fucking psycho! You’re dead! I’ll kill you! Somebody get over here!” I reached into my bag—the one he’d mocked—and pulled out an egg, smashing it against his chest. He howled. “Are you crazy? I swear to God, I’m going to end you today!” The man, Ben White, was practically vibrating with rage. “Go ahead and try,” I said, my voice dripping with venom. “If you don’t kill me today, I promise you, I will destroy you.” My glare was a promise. Everything he had done, I would make him pay for, tenfold. “That’s enough!” Lucas strode into the room. The moment he appeared, Lily’s body began to tremble violently. “Sophia, let’s go,” she whispered, her voice thin and reedy. “Please, let’s just go.” I pulled her into a tight embrace, whispering into her hair. “It’s okay. I’m here now. Don’t be afraid.” Seeing her so broken, so timid, was like a knife to the heart. This wasn’t the Lily I knew. She was the one who always stood in front of me, fierce and unafraid, with a temper hotter than mine. Now, all her sharp edges had been worn down, replaced by fear. I took her hand, ready to lead her out of this nightmare. “You think you can just ruin my engagement party and walk away?” A hand shot out, blocking our path. “Do you have any idea who I am?” Lucas demanded. “What proof do you have that you’re Sophia Song?” Ben White, still clutching his arm and dripping with egg yolk, chimed in, “You? Sophia Song? That’s hilarious. My sister is her best friend, you idiot. Don’t you even bother to do your research before you lie?” With Lucas there to back him up, his arrogance returned full force. “You just wait. The second I walk out of here, Ben White is going to have you dealt with permanently!” “I’m waiting,” I said dismissively. Just then, Julian Ford pushed through the crowd. Lucas grabbed him. “Is this Sophia Song?” The guests watched eagerly. “Julian Ford is engaged to the Song heiress. He would definitely know what she looks like.” What they didn’t know was that Julian had never met me in person. He’d only seen a single photograph of me, three years ago. Julian looked me up and down, his lip curling in disgust. “Her? No way. Look at her, dressed in those rags. She’s nothing like Sophia Song. Besides, Sophia called me herself and said she wasn’t coming.” He glanced at me again. “I think I’d puke for the rest of my life if I had to marry someone like that.” The contempt on his face was unmistakable. “And Sophia is out of town for work. There’s no way she’d be here. And she definitely wouldn’t be standing here holding a carton of eggs. She probably crawled out of some backwater town trying to pull a scam.” Hearing this, Lucas visibly relaxed. I shot them a look of pure disdain, took out my phone, and opened my photo album to a picture of me with my mother. Plenty of people in this room knew her. “Wait… that looks like Mrs. Song.” “It is her! That picture was taken in her home! And she’s wearing the ring her daughter designed for her.” “The Song heiress has never shown her face publicly, very few people have ever seen her. Could she… could she really be her?” The color drained from Lucas’s face. Ben snatched the phone from my hand. “This is obviously AI-generated! The technology is so advanced now, you can create any photo you want. She even faked the photos in advance! She planned this whole thing, waiting for today to cause trouble!” With that, he hurled my phone to the ground. The screen shattered. A wave of pure fury washed over me. I swung my hand and slapped him across the face, hard. Ben roared in anger, but Lucas held him back. Suddenly, a sharp female voice cut through the chaos. “She can’t be Sophia Song!” Bianca, now in a fresh change of clothes, had reappeared. At the same time, my assistant, Marco, appeared at the doorway. I was about to call his name when Lily lunged forward and clamped a hand over my mouth. She stepped in front of me, then dropped to her knees before Lucas, her voice choked with sobs. “We’re so sorry. We were ignorant. We didn’t know our place. Please, I’m begging you, just let us go.”

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You won’t believe this. Me, a small-time influencer who plays the innocent damsel online, was summoned by Crestwood’s wealthiest couple. They slid a $50M black card across the table, begging me to marry their son. Why? Their heir, Aiden Graham, threw away his future simping for some broke campus queen. Mrs. Graham seethed: “That witch says no but leeches off him, funding her joke of a family like a vampire! If he likes her type, fine—we’ll find someone better at the game.” Insulting? Sure. But when that $50M card landed before me, I accepted my mission: Save the Simp Heir. Then I opened the target file—and laughed. The “broke queen” was my little sister Clara, the amateur whose tricks I used to dismantle for fun. My long-forgotten rival. … 1 The love story of Aiden Graham, the prince of Crestwood, and the so-called campus queen, Clara Bernthal, was the stuff of legend at Crestwood University. One was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a man who had everything, yet he humbled himself, worshipping the ground she walked on. The other was dirt poor but carried herself with an air of untouchable purity, staging a grand drama of rejecting the city’s most eligible bachelor nine hundred and ninety-nine times. This bizarre, third-rate novel plot had somehow earned the freak couple a legion of die-hard fans who had even started a fan club for them. The entire campus was obsessed with their “epic romance,” waiting with bated breath for the day the high-and-mighty queen would finally grant him her “yes.” Because of this, any woman who dared to get close to Aiden instantly became public enemy number one, torn to shreds by the verbal onslaught of his rabid fanbase. But I’m not just any woman. On my first day as a transfer student, I had someone leak a little message across the entire campus network: “Aiden Graham’s official fiancée has arrived.” And so, the second I stepped into the classroom, the welcoming party I’d expected was there to greet me—a bucket of ice-cold water, tipped from above the door, drenching me from head to toe. Soaked hair and a soggy mask plastered to my face, the sticky, disgusting feeling making me want to gag. The classroom erupted in piercing laughter. Just then, Clara glided in from the hallway, her signature wide, innocent eyes fixed on me. “Oh my god, are you okay?” she asked, feigning concern. “It’s all my fault. My classmates just adore me so much… they can’t accept you yet. That’s why they did this. Please, please don’t take it to heart.” One of her minions immediately jumped in, her voice dripping with disdain. “Clara, you’re too kind. Why are you even talking to this homewrecker? She’s here to steal your man!” A few guys stepped forward, forming a protective wall in front of me. “We’re the ones who threw the water! It has nothing to do with Clara!” the leader announced righteously. “You’re a parasite trying to ruin a good thing, so don’t expect us to be nice!” If it were any other girl, she would have already run out of the room crying. I, however, just sighed internally. All these years, and Clara’s little frame-up schemes were still so painfully amateurish. Fine. I guess big sister will have to step in and teach you what a real master of the game looks like. In the next second, with trembling, pale fingers, I slowly peeled off the wet mask. I gently swept the dark strands of hair from my cheek to reveal a face so delicate, so exquisitely pitiful, it silenced the room. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as they saw me clearly. Clara’s face went white as a sheet, as if she’d seen a ghost. My eyes welled up, a perfect shimmer of tears forming as I bit my lip. My voice, thick with emotion, cracked as I spoke. “I… I truly never meant to get in the way of your relationship. This engagement… it was arranged by our elders. I’m just a girl, I have no power… How could I possibly refuse?” “You don’t have to worry, Clara. I won’t fight you for him. I… I couldn’t win anyway.” I lifted my gaze, my misty eyes scanning the faces of the boys in front of me, my voice laced with a profound loneliness. “I just wanted to come to the city, get a good education, maybe make a few friends… But it seems like… like everyone here hates me… What am I supposed to do?” The classroom fell into a dead, heavy silence. The boy who had been so hostile just moments ago—Jake, I think his name was—turned the color of a boiled shrimp, stumbling over his words. “I—I’m sorry! My name’s Jake… I mean, I—I’d be happy to be your friend!” Even Clara’s minion seemed to soften. “Hey… don’t cry. We didn’t really mean it like that…” Clara was completely stunned. She couldn’t fathom how I, with just a few simple words, had not only defused her attack but turned her own followers against her, making them pity me. She glared at me, the string of her composure finally snapping as she let out a twisted, venomous hiss. “Aurora! You bitch! Why are you here? Why won’t you just disappear from my life!” I immediately flinched like a startled rabbit, shrinking behind Jake for protection. “What’s wrong with her? Does she… does she really hate me that much?” Jake looked at the unhinged Clara, his brow furrowed in disapproval as he instinctively shielded me more tightly. “Clara, what the hell is your problem? This isn’t her fault! Stop taking it out on her!” That protective gesture was the final trigger. Clara lunged forward like a wild animal. The sharp crack of her hand across my face echoed through the silent room. As my body tilted backward, a figure shot toward me out of the corner of my eye. Heh. And just like that, the fish is on the hook. 2 As expected, I landed safely in a strong, warm embrace. An aura of cool detachment radiated from him. He steadied me, then immediately let go. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice crisp and cold. I tilted my head back, my neck looking fragile and pale, my cheek stinging from the slap. But I forced a brave face. “I’m fine… I just lost my balance.” His expression faltered for a split second when his eyes met my tear-filled gaze. To Clara, however, that brief moment looked like something else entirely. “Aiden!” she shrieked. “Why did you catch her? Is that bitch using her cheap tricks to seduce you again?” She screamed, lunging at me once more, wild and unrestrained. But before her hand could even touch my clothes, Aiden caught her wrist, holding her firmly in place. “Clara, what has gotten into you today?” “Aurora is just a fiancée in name only, arranged by my parents. You’re the one I love.” “But if she gets seriously hurt because of you, my parents will only despise you more. How do you expect me to ever marry you then?” A flash of annoyance crossed Aiden’s face, but he patiently, gently tried to reason with her. Jake chimed in from the side, defending me. “Yeah, Aurora has been nothing but nice this whole time. What gives you the right to hit her, Clara?” Clara gasped for breath, finally realizing the situation was turning against her. She forced a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “I’m so sorry, Aurora. I… I mistook you for someone else.” I stole a glance at Aiden before lowering my head in disappointment. “It’s okay. In the end, it’s my fault for disturbing you two.” Aiden’s eyes flickered toward me, a hint of discomfort in his expression. He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to me, his tone curt. “A welcome gift. My mother told me to give it to you.” Then, he opened a beautifully wrapped gift bag he was carrying, retrieving a palm-sized velvet box. He presented it to Clara. “This, I bought with my own money. Whatever other people have, my girl has to have it too.” Clara’s tense expression finally melted. When she opened the box to reveal a stunning set of ruby jewelry, her face lit up with pure joy. “Thank you, Aiden! I love you so much!” Following her lead, I opened my box. Inside lay a simple hair clip from a mid-range designer brand. The difference in value was astronomical. Clara shot me a look, her eyes overflowing with smug satisfaction. “Wow, your hair clip is pretty too. Why don’t you put it on for us?” With the entire class watching, a few perfect, crystalline tears rolled down my cheeks. Jake saw them and immediately looked at me with concern. Even the smile on Aiden’s face faded. “Thank you for the kind thought,” I choked out, “but I can’t accept this.” Aiden’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why not?” I looked up, letting the self-pity and sorrow in my eyes pierce him like a needle. “Clara is the future Mrs. Graham. She deserves the best of everything in this world—designer clothes, fine jewelry, limited-edition bags… But me? I’m just a poor girl from the countryside. Being able to study at the same university as all of you is already a blessing. How could I dare to wish for things that don’t belong to me?” Wiping away my tears with a fierce determination, I turned and pressed the box into the hands of the girl behind Clara, the one named Becca. My smile was genuine and strong. “You’re so beautiful. I think this clip would look much better on you. Miss Bernthal has so much lovely jewelry, but she never thought to share any with you. As your friend, I want you to have this.” Knowing Clara’s notoriously stingy personality, I was certain she wasn’t the generous type. Just as I predicted, a flicker of surprise and delight crossed Becca’s face. “R-really? Thank you! No one’s ever given me such a nice gift before!” “My name is Becca. Aurora, from now on, we’re best friends! If anyone messes with you, you just tell me!” Thanks to my self-deprecating performance, not a single person doubted the sincerity of my gift. I even saw a glimmer of unexpected admiration in Aiden’s eyes. Clara, on the other hand, was trapped in a vortex of awkwardness. The hand holding the jewelry box was frozen mid-air, unsure whether to offer it to her friends or put it away. With that one move, I had not only won everyone’s sympathy but had also maxed out my emotional capital. Clara was now stuck with the image of a petty, selfish shrew. As I was leaving, Aiden actually stopped me. He pushed a credit card into my hand without another word. “In the end, our family owes you for this mess. Don’t put yourself down like that. Go buy yourself something you like.” I pretended to blush, the tips of my ears turning red as I gave a shy nod. Clara stood a short distance away, her eyes shooting daggers at me, but she was utterly speechless. It wasn’t until I walked off campus that I realized why she had been holding her tongue. Two middle-aged figures were storming toward me with furious expressions—my dear, biological parents. 3 “You worthless piece of trash! Couldn’t you just stay locked up where you belong? Did you have to break out just to ruin your sister’s life?” Before the words even finished, a hand whipped through the air and cracked across my cheek. The shrewish-looking woman, my mother, raised her hand for another strike, but Aiden stepped in, grabbing her wrist with a frown. “Ma’am, what’s going on here?” he asked, his tone wary. “Do you know her?” I clutched my stinging cheek, my body shrinking back, my expression a mask of fragile helplessness. “Sir… Ma’am…” I began timidly, “do I know you?” Clara saw her chance and rushed forward, her voice filled with desperate urgency. “Aiden, she’s lying to you! This ‘Aurora’ is my older sister—the one with the mental illness! Five years ago, she had an episode and tore our family apart. My parents had no choice but to kick her out! She’s obviously holding a grudge, so she changed her identity to get close to you. She’s here to get revenge on me and steal you away!” “I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you, so I called my parents to expose her on the spot. We’ve caught her red-handed!” A triumphant gleam shone in Clara’s eyes. She looked at me with the pity of a victor. “My dear sister, it seems your condition has gotten worse. This time, I’m afraid we’ll have to send you to a facility for some… intensive therapy.” My father, Mr. Bernthal, immediately plastered on a fawning smile, bowing and scraping before Aiden. “That’s right, that’s right, my dear son-in-law! This wretched daughter of mine is sick in the head. She could hurt Clara! You can’t be soft on her!” With that, my parents grabbed me from both sides, trying to drag me toward their car. But I didn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing any fear on my face. Instead, my eyes widened with an expression of pure, unadulterated envy. “If only… if only I really had parents. How wonderful would that be?” I slowly shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall. “Clara, I know you hate me. But you’re like a princess. You have parents who adore you and Aiden to protect you. You have everything good in this world.” “And me? I’m just an orphan from the countryside. My parents are gone. Just being here, studying, is a gift from heaven. How could I ever dream of taking the title of Mrs. Graham from you?” “So why… why would you make up such a cruel lie to slander me? To grind me into the dirt?” Aiden listened, then stepped forward to speak on my behalf. “Mr. and Mrs. Bernthal, you’ve made a mistake. Aurora is the orphaned daughter of my father’s old army buddy. She grew up in the country.” He probably didn’t even realize it himself, but his tone and the way he referred to me had already shifted from dismissive to protective. My mother stomped her foot in fury. “You little liar! You lived in our house for over a decade! Don’t think I can’t find a single picture of you to prove it!” But the more frantically she scrolled through her phone’s photo album, the paler her face became. “How… how can there not be a single one?” Clara noticed something was wrong and leaned in, but no matter how hard they searched, they couldn’t find a single photo of me. What a joke. If I was bold enough to show up with this face, you can be sure I came prepared. The Bernthals had always treated me like a thorn in their side; they would never have willingly saved photos of me. Besides, with the Graham family backing me, any digital breadcrumbs that might have existed had long been wiped clean. “Enough! How long are you going to keep this charade up?” Aiden’s face was a mask of impatience. He already disliked Clara’s parents, and now, even his gaze toward Clara was turning cold. “Aiden, don’t you believe me? Aurora really is my psychotic sister!” Clara pleaded, panic rising in her voice. Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “I always thought you were different from your social-climbing parents. But look at what you’re doing now. Dragging your entire family here to slander an innocent girl, to pour salt on her wounds! Clara, you’ve disappointed me more than I can say.” Clara opened her mouth to argue, but I beat her to it, gently taking her hand. “Clara, I never had parents, so I understand that pain more than anyone. You must miss your sister terribly. That’s why you mistook me for her. When you have time, you should go visit her. I’m sure… she misses all of you very much.” With that single sentence, I cemented my persona as the kind, innocent victim. And as a bonus, I subtly highlighted to Aiden just how cruelly the Bernthal family treated their other daughter. I could feel it. The look in Aiden’s eyes had transformed from pity to something deeper. Heartache. And heartache is always the first step toward falling.

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I am the only daughter of the Blanchett family, raised since birth to be its heir. If the students of Northwood Academy are the elite of society, then I am the apex of that pyramid. Before the school started admitting scholarship students, there was a delicate balance. No discrimination, no mockery—just pure, unadulterated ambition in everyone’s eyes. Until the first scholarship girl arrived. And just like that, I knew the plot had begun to turn. You see, I was reborn into this world. In the original story, my character was the villainess. The heroine was the new scholarship student, a resilient little flower who endured a year of torment from the villainess’s friends without ever breaking. The funny thing is, the villainess never directly participated. Yet the heroine blamed her for everything, convinced that without the villainess’s tacit approval, no one would have dared to touch her. Later, the villainess’s parents died in a car crash. Spurred on by the heroine’s “encouragement,” the villainess’s brother schemed to usurp the family inheritance. Her supposed friends, moved by the heroine’s “unbreakable spirit,” all turned against her. Ultimately, the villainess was cast out by her family and died a miserable death on the streets. 1 It was the kind of cliché, tropey story that was so full of melodrama it made you sick. And if you ask me, the original villainess was far too kind. I strode into the classroom, arms crossed. The air was buzzing with chatter about the new scholarship student. I kicked a desk, hard, and the noise died instantly. If we’re talking about being a villain, I’m a hell of a lot better at it than she ever was. I scanned the room, my irritation simmering, and dropped into my seat. I never liked school to begin with. I’d finally graduated, only to die on my way to work when a rogue plastic bag flew into my face, blinding me just long enough to get into a fatal car accident. Then I was reborn, only to end up as a villainess in a cheap novel. The one silver lining was that fate had finally answered my prayers: this time, I was rich. So, as a sort of repayment, I would protect everything the original villainess had lost. I would save her parents from that car crash. With that thought, I let out a heavy sigh. The boy behind me tapped my shoulder. “Aria, the new girl is coming soon. Should we give her a proper Northwood welcome?” I was already in a foul mood. The thought of someone stirring up trouble for me, for no reason, made me whip my head around to glare at Mason. He and the original Aria were childhood friends. In the story, he was the first to betray her. A dog that can’t be tamed. The most disgusting kind. The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “If you mess with her, you can get the hell out of Northwood.” The classroom was silent. Everyone heard me. Mason stared for a second, then gave a helpless shrug. “Whoa, what’s with you, princess? I was just asking. Didn’t want you to be unhappy.” I twisted the cap off a bottle of water on my desk and poured it over his head. “Keep your bright ideas to yourself. Don’t pin them on me.” Mason shot to his feet, roaring, “Aria! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you insane?” I crossed my legs, my eyes raking over him. “Do you have the right to yell at me? Are we that close?” I wasn’t the original Aria, that bleeding-heart who would help her friends unconditionally. In my eyes, they were worse than dogs. For years, the Thorne family had been mired in internal conflict. Though Mason and I grew up together, I never once lifted a finger to help him. Compared to his two older brothers, Mason was painfully incompetent and on the verge of being disowned. About a year ago, it must have dawned on him that if I put in a good word, the position of head of the Thorne family would be his. But why should I help him? Still, I did need a dog. I could string Mason along with a few scraps, and he’d do anything for me. But now, the heroine was here. It was time to defuse this ticking time bomb before it blew up in my face. 2 I stood up and grabbed him by the collar. “Who the hell do you think you are, screaming at me? From now on, stay out of my sight. You’re an eyesore.” Mason’s face froze, then he quickly stammered, “Aria, I was just joking.” I stared at him, my voice flat. “I wasn’t. Get lost.” Stanley, sitting nearby, had been enjoying the show. Realizing I was serious, he tugged at my arm. “Princess, come on. Mason didn’t mean it.” I smirked and slapped him across the face with my left hand. “Then you can get lost with him.” Stanley touched his cheek in disbelief. “You hit me?” I met his gaze, and my right hand followed, striking his other cheek. “And? What are you going to do about it?” Seeing him just stand there like a statue, clutching his face, I rolled my eyes and walked out of the classroom. “When I get back, I don’t want to see either of you.” Did Stanley really think he was any better than Mason? They were both pathetic. One took everything Aria gave him, then led the charge to isolate her. The other had a lifelong crush on her, but let the heroine’s whispers turn him against her, even handing her over to a pervert. If it weren’t for Stanley, the original Aria might not have died on the streets. If I wasn’t worried about derailing the plot too soon, I would have dealt with them long ago. The fresh air improved my mood considerably. Before I could even make it down the stairs, a girl’s voice called out from behind me. “Excuse me, could you tell me where Class A is?” I turned to face her. One look was all it took. This was the heroine, Stella Chad. Stella clenched her fists, a smile plastered on her face as she asked again. “Hi, I’m a new transfer student, so I’m a little lost. Your pin says Class A. Could you show me the way?” I couldn’t be bothered. I looked away. A frown creased Stella’s brow, and her eyes flashed with anger. “Hey! Did you hear me? We’re both students here. You can’t just bully me because I’m new, can you? Getting into this school means I’m on the same level as you. Can’t you help with something so simple?” I had to laugh. “If you’re blind, go see a doctor. You just threw a massive accusation at me without a second thought. What, are you right just because you’re poor?” Stella’s eyes widened in fury. She stormed over and grabbed my uniform. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with being poor? I got into Northwood on my own merit. How dare you, who rely on your parents for everything, say that to me?” 3 I glanced down at her hand, my voice dripping with disdain. “I was just going to tell you to get lost. But now, I’m not letting you go.” I looked at her still-dry hair, grabbed a handful, and yanked. Stella screamed, trying to break free. I let go, then immediately kicked her to the ground. The commotion brought everyone from the classroom rushing out. Stella was on her knees, looking pathetic, but her mouth was as sharp as ever. “Don’t think you’re so great just because you have money! Without your parents, you’re nothing! I earned my place here with my grades! I’m going to the principal! You just wait!” Mason, despite the humiliation I’d just put him through, had benefited greatly from being my dog this past year. Hearing someone talk to me like that, he kicked Stella, sending her sprawling. Her head hit the wall, and blood started to trickle down. Stanley, seeing this, quickly stepped in to stop Mason from doing anything further. I didn’t even bother giving them a second glance. I went straight to the headmaster’s office. “Old man! Move Mason Thorne and Stanley Armitage to Class D.” Headmaster Phillips sighed, looking weary. “My dear girl, what did they do to upset you this time?” I collapsed onto the sofa and picked at my nails. “They’re disgusting to look at.” I was always polite with Headmaster Phillips. First, he was my father’s good friend. Second, he always indulged me. He’d never refused any of my requests. He nodded, indicating he understood. Satisfied, I grabbed a bottle of water, took a sip, and put it back. “Aria, the common folk have a right to climb the ladder too, don’t you think?” I looked at him, my expression unreadable. Was this old fool trying to lecture me? I smiled and pulled out my phone to make the choice for him. “Stella Chad is Northwood’s first scholarship student, and she will be its last. Old man, you know I’m already giving you face by not doing more.” Headmaster Phillips eyed me, then quietly opened a drawer by his leg. I rolled my eyes and walked out. Hearing the sound of him using his personal oxygen tank, I scoffed. Climb the ladder? With what? Grades? Thinking of Stella, I leaned against the wall, my gaze turning cold. After a moment, I went back in and grabbed the half-finished bottle of water. “Aria, dear, remember to close the door on your way out.” I chuckled. I didn’t listen. Close the door for him? Who did he think he was? Water bottle in hand, I sauntered to the nurse’s office. Stella was lying on a cot. When she saw me, her eyes burned with hatred. “What are you doing here? If it’s to apologize, don’t bother. I don’t accept!” 4 Seeing the look in her eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh. The school nurse, sitting beside her, trembled and scooted his chair away. Stella seemed to realize I wasn’t there to apologize, and her expression hardened with anger. “Hey! Do you really think you’re all that? Let me tell you, I’m injured. You’re going to have to pay for my medical bills and for emotional distress. If you don’t, I’ll sue you!” Before I could even speak, the nurse couldn’t take the pressure anymore. He scurried over to me and whispered, “Miss Blanchett, I have a few small things to attend to, could I possibly…” I nodded. He fled without a backward glance. As the door clicked shut, I twisted the cap off the bottle and poured the remaining water over Stella’s head. “I don’t think I’m all that. I am.” Stella shrieked, trying to fight back, but even uninjured she was no match for me, let alone now. I slapped her hard across the face. “Stella Chad, you’ve made an enemy of me at Northwood. You’re in for a world of pain. But I’ll give you one chance. Kneel, apologize, and get the hell out of this school.” Stella’s face was a mask of disbelief. She glared at me, her teeth gritted. “You think I’ll surrender? I’m telling you, it’s impossible! Go ahead, kill me if you have the guts! You think you’re an empress? The students at Northwood are all from noble families. They’ve had a proper upbringing. They won’t just stand by and watch you bully me!” All things considered, I genuinely believed Stella had a future in comedy. How else could she make me want to laugh every time she opened her mouth? A proper upbringing? Did she mean being taught how to backstab your siblings to come out on top? I clicked my tongue. I didn’t slap her again. Instead, I patted her cheek lightly. “Stella, my dear, I truly look forward to our next meeting. I hope you’ll have a noble knight by your side to protect you then. Promise me, okay?” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. If someone was actually willing to stand up to me for Stella, I would have to admire their courage. An egg trying to smash a rock. The thought was exhilarating. School was already a bore. If someone was going to offer up their face for me to slap, I certainly wouldn’t refuse. 5 Stella’s hands were trembling with rage. “Do you dare tell me your name? I will not let you get away with this!” I covered my mouth, feigning fear. “Really? You promise you won’t let me go? My name is Aria Blanchett. I hope you’ll remember it. Maybe get it tattooed.” Stella spat at me in disgust. “You pretentious bitch! Without your parents, you wouldn’t even be able to get into Northwood! I got in with my own two hands, with my grades! When we graduate, I will grind you into the dirt!” My eyes darkened. Disgusted, I took off my soiled jacket and threw it on the floor. “Fine. I’ll be waiting.” Seeing her disdainful expression, I looked away and left. Boring. It was always the same line. Her own two hands? Her grades? Let’s see how those “grades” of hers hold up at Northwood. At Northwood, exams determined class rankings. Students in lower-ranked classes fought tooth and nail to get into Class A. The only reason Stella was placed in Class A right away was because it was the only class with an empty seat. And as luck would have it, the placement exams were tomorrow. Her precious grades wouldn’t mean a thing here. The next day, I arrived at the classroom just as the bell rang. The teacher, seeing me take my seat, began to hand out the exam papers. Mason and Stanley were gone. I twirled my pen, my gaze falling on Stella. “Good luck, everyone. I hope to see you all in Class A again.” Stella was fired up. The moment she got the paper, she started poring over it. I rested my chin on my hand and watched her for a while. She chewed on her pen, then on her nails. I raised an eyebrow and glanced at my own blank paper. With two seconds left on the clock, I finally wrote my name on the sheet. Stella had been watching me throughout the exam, so she knew I hadn’t written a single word. She shot to her feet, pointing at me righteously. “Teacher, Aria Blanchett didn’t write anything! Isn’t that a form of deliberate provocation? Even if her family is rich, she should still have a proper attitude towards school exams! I demand that you punish her severely.” The entire class turned to look at her. Stella lifted her chin. “Being rich doesn’t give you the right to disrespect school rules! She’s a terrible example for other students. The school should issue a strict reprimand to curb this kind of behavior!” She expected her righteous speech to be met with approval. Instead, she was met with laughter. “Who let this charity case in?” “Is she declaring war on Miss Blanchett? Does she even have the right?” “Everyone knows the rules at Northwood. Aria Blanchett is the rules.”

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By day, I’m the second-ranked student in my year. By night, I’m a thirst-trap streamer. My top donator is the cold, untouchable genius from the dorm next door. Pretending I don’t know, I subtly bait him into showering me with gifts, vowing to win back every cent of the scholarship he snatched from me. But I never expected him to walk in on me during a live stream. There I was, in a backless sweater, cornered in an elevator by Ethan Shroyer. “Don’t worry,” I stammered, “I’ll never tell anyone you’re… this kind of pervert!” Ethan just chuckled, leaning in to breathe a whisper against my ear. “Twenty grand a month. Private video calls on WhatsApp. You dance only for me.” 1 “Thanks for all the love, my beautiful people. Hit that follow button so you don’t get lost.” Dressed in a new black lace shirt, I moved to the rhythm in front of my phone camera. In the comments, a pack of ravenous female fans were howling. That’s right. I’m a thirst-trap streamer. When I started, I was all passion, genuinely trying to be a serious dancer. The result? A handful of viewers, if I was lucky. One of my loyal followers kindly offered some advice: 【Dude, you don’t show your face, which is fine, but you’ve gotta at least show off those abs, right? What else is gonna pull people in?】 【If you wanna make it on the internet, you gotta be willing to go all out. No risk, no reward, you know?】 I took the advice. The long sleeves came off, replaced by a tight black tank top. That night, over two thousand people flooded my stream, showering me with gifts. In this day and age, a little bit of skin is what sells. To avoid being recognized by anyone I knew, I always wore a mask during my streams. I glanced down to switch songs, and when I looked back up, my screen was frozen, stuck in a dizzying loop of the “Carnival” gift animation. Beneath my mask, my face was stretched in a grin so wide it hurt. “Thank you! Thank you so much, ‘S’… my lady—wait, my good man!” The user ‘S’, who had just dropped ten Carnivals in a row, had their gender listed as male. Uh oh. A little bit of edge attracts the girls. Too much, and you attract the guys. Whatever. As long as they’re spending money, they’re my patrons. Time to charm my audience. “What would you like to see, S?” I asked twice, but the mysterious benefactor, nicknamed ‘S’, remained silent. So cold? I couldn’t leave the rest of my viewers hanging, so I got back to dancing. After a while, a line of text finally crawled across the screen from S: 【Show me your abs.】 2 By the end of the stream, S had donated a total of two grand. He was officially my number one fan. After logging off, I clicked on S’s profile to do some digging. His avatar was a generic photo of the sky. Age: 20. Location: Unknown. How could someone so young be so loaded? His profile was completely blank, not a single post. Looked like a brand-new account. Just as I was wondering how to build a connection with this guy, a private message from S popped up. 【Hey, streamer. Can I get your WhatsApp?】 Wow. Straight to the point. My internal alarms started blaring. Out in the world, a guy’s got to know how to protect himself, especially in my line of work. People can get the wrong idea. But maintaining a relationship with my top donator was crucial. Otherwise, who’d be foolish enough to keep throwing money at me? 【Of course.】 To protect my privacy, I used a burner account specifically for my fans. Clearly, he had no such concerns, adding me from what was obviously his personal number. I typed his username into the search bar. The moment his profile popped up, my eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. You have got to be kidding me. This ‘S’ was someone I knew. He lived in the dorm right next to mine. 3 Ethan Shroyer, the math department’s resident saint, the ice-cold academic prodigy, was secretly a pervert who watched male thirst-trap streamers! Unbelievable! To think he could maintain that holier-than-thou, untouchable facade every day, making all the girls in our department swoon over him. I’d never liked the guy. He was always number one. No matter how hard I studied, I was always stuck in second place. I was like the bitter rival in a novel, forced to watch year after year as the Chancellor’s Scholarship went straight into his pocket. And this bastard was using that money to tip thirst-trap streamers! The rage! If I wasn’t afraid of exposing myself, I would’ve screenshotted his donation history and blasted it in the department group chat, exposing his disgusting true colors. But then it hit me—the money was only taking a short detour through his wallet before landing right back in mine. My mood brightened considerably. The guy clearly had money to burn. I had to seize this opportunity and squeeze every last penny out of him. After he accepted my friend request, I put on my most sycophantic persona, sending a couple of cute, welcoming emojis. Ethan didn’t reply immediately. Five minutes later, I heard the door to the next dorm slam shut with a loud thud. Someone was back. Right on cue, a message from Ethan came through: 【Sorry, was just walking. Didn’t see your message.】 I scoffed. More like he was too paranoid to be seen texting his favorite streamer in public. I typed furiously: 【I’d wait forever for you, handsome.】 Six months in the business had not only perfected my dance moves but also armed me with a whole arsenal of sweet nothings. 【Are you always this enthusiastic with your viewers?】 【Of course not. It’s only because you’re so handsome. I saw your pictures on your profile.】 【You know which one is me?】 I froze for a second, then quickly opened Ethan’s profile. He only had one picture posted: a group photo of the university basketball team after a game. Awkward. 【Of course I do. You’d be the hottest one there.】 God, I’m quick on my feet. I immediately changed the subject: 【Are you going to come watch me dance tomorrow? If not, I’ll just wait for you.】 【You stream every day?】 【I used to just do Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at seven, but if you want to watch, I can be online every night for you.】 The subtext was clear: as long as you pay, I’ll dance whenever you want. But I knew he wouldn’t be free tomorrow night. We both had a class on Tuesday evenings. 【I have something tomorrow. The day after.】 【Okay! See you then.】 4 My three roommates were all out of the dorm from seven to nine on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays for club activities or tutoring gigs. This gave me the perfect, private space to stream. To keep the music from bothering the other dorms, I’d even installed soundproofing strips around the door and the balcony entrance. Ethan became a fixture in my stream for the next couple of weeks, dropping hundreds in gifts every night. After each stream, we’d chat on WhatsApp. Occasionally, I’d send him a little bonus—a picture of my abs, for instance. I also built up a tragic backstory for myself: a sick grandma, a younger sister, divorced parents, and crippling tuition fees. It worked like a charm. Soon, Ethan wasn’t just donating during streams; he was sending me money directly through WhatsApp. All I had to do was keep playing the adoring fan, changing my outfits and props based on his requests. 【Can you show me what you look like?】 I replied with my well-rehearsed rejection: 【I’m not very good-looking. If I showed my face, you might not like me anymore. It’s better to keep a little mystery, don’t you think?】 During the day, whenever I saw Ethan in class, I couldn’t help but look away, terrified he’d see right through me. He always wore crisp white shirts, his handsome, sharp features giving off a cool, distant aura that made him seem unapproachable. The only time he showed any sign of being human was the slight furrow of his brow when he was deep in thought, solving a problem. The thought that this guy was secretly drooling over my streams was enough to make me laugh out loud. “Leo, what are you grinning at? You’ve already turned the page,” my roommate, Alex, poked me in the ribs. I jumped, nearly shooting out of my seat. “Ugh… I told you not to touch my sides, they’re ticklish!” Our little commotion must have been loud, because a few people in the rows ahead turned to look at us. Even Ethan glanced over from his seat. Mortified, I ducked my head and viciously pinched Alex’s thigh. Alex winced, hissing through his teeth, “My bad, my bad, I forgot.” That evening, when I got back to the dorm, it was already 6:50 PM, and my roommates were still there. I tested the waters. “You guys not going to your club meetings tonight?” “Nope. They’re using all the activity rooms for the anniversary gala rehearsal. All club activities are canceled.” Well, crap. That meant I had to find a new place to stream. I quickly updated my stream profile, announcing a thirty-minute delay. Then I sent a private message to Ethan: 【Hey handsome, something came up tonight, so I’m going to be a little late. (Love ya~.jpg)】 Ethan replied instantly: 【What’s wrong?】 【I have family over, so I can’t stream from home. I’ll have to get a hotel room.】 Ethan didn’t say anything else. He just sent a direct transfer for a thousand dollars. He was covering my expenses. So decisive. So generous. If this keeps up, I’m afraid I’ll really fall for him… for his money. 5 I was walking out of the dorm, head down, typing a reply: 【You’re the best.】 The moment I hit send, I collided head-on with someone. I looked up, and my eyes met Ethan’s. My heart hammered against my ribs. I quickly locked my phone. “Sorry, wasn’t watching where I was going.” Ethan let go of my shoulders. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice a calm, low murmur. His gaze fell to the large black duffel bag in my hand. I broke into a cold sweat. Inside was the low-cut tank top he’d specifically requested to see. “Going off campus?” My throat felt tight. “Uh… yeah.” Normally, Ethan and I barely spoke. Offering too much of an explanation would just be weird. As expected, he didn’t press further and simply walked into his dorm. To save time, I found a cheap motel about five hundred yards from campus. By the time I had all my gear set up, it was already past 7:30. I rushed to start the stream, and viewers quickly began to pour in. When Ethan entered the room, his “Top Donator” animation nearly blinded me. “Welcome, S! Good evening, everyone. Sorry for the change of scenery tonight, had people over at my place, so I had to come out here.” 【Whoa, that top is cut down to his navel!】 【Is this a special fan service night? Damn, I’m on my period, I can’t watch this today.】 【His pecs look so soft, I wanna squeeze them.】 … My phone buzzed with a stream of WhatsApp notifications. It was Ethan. I had to pause the stream to check them. 【Change your shirt.】 Such a commanding tone. Did he think he owned me? Luckily, I’d brought a spare outfit. “Hold on, guys, the streamer just got a wardrobe warning. I need to change.” Three minutes later, I was back on camera. From the front, it looked like a plain, white sleeveless sweater. But when I turned around, the entire back was open, completely bare. 【Holy hell, that’s so hot! I’m getting a nosebleed.】 【I’m crawling through the internet to get to you right now!】 【I’m close! It’s only a ten-minute cab ride!】 I paused. A ten-minute cab ride? What did that mean? A wave of panic washed over me. I quickly checked my settings and realized, in my haste to go live, I’d forgotten to turn off my location sharing. “Sorry everyone, having some network issues. Let me just reset a few things.” I immediately shut down the stream. As I fumbled with the settings, another message from Ethan came through. 【I’m outside your hotel.】 【Want to meet?】 6 Meet? Hell no! This two-faced psycho actually tracked me down using my location. My entire body clenched. I crept over to the window and peeked through a crack in the curtains. Down below, under a streetlight, a figure in a white shirt stood silently. It was unmistakably Ethan. 【How did you know where I was?】 【You said you were streaming from a hotel. This is the only one nearby.】 【But I’m still streaming. And this is so sudden, I’m not mentally prepared to meet anyone.】 【Then I’ll wait downstairs until you’re done.】 If we actually met, how could I ever show my face at school again? I had to find a way to make him leave. At this critical moment, I knew I might have to give up Ethan, my personal ATM. I gritted my teeth and deployed my ultimate weapon: 【I’m sorry, but my boyfriend is on his way over. Tonight’s not a good night to meet.】 Ethan went silent. After a long pause, he sent a voice message. “You have a boyfriend?” His voice, even distorted by the phone’s speaker, was a low, magnetic rumble that seemed to kiss my eardrum. The thought of losing all that future income was excruciating. It hurt more than realizing I’d misread the last question on my calculus final. 【Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.】 Another voice message arrived. His tone was unreadable. “So he knows you chat with me every night? That you send me… private photos?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393882”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’m the fake young master in a story about a swapped-at-birth heir. My life was a whirlwind of extravagance and excess. I was the kind of guy who could bankrupt a company on a whim, just for the hell of it. Then the real heir showed up to claim his birthright, and the Shaw family kicked me to the curb. Without their protection, my enemies found me that very night. They killed me and left my body in a ditch. Now, I’ve been reborn. And this time, I went straight to the slums and found the real heir, beaten half to death in an underground fight, and saved him. The System, thinking I was finally going to suck up to the protagonist, was about to reward me with a cheat ability. Instead, I planted my foot on the protagonist’s fresh wound and ground my heel into it. “I’m giving you a choice,” I said, looking down at him. “Be my dog. Yes or no?” 1 I found Caleb in the slums right after he’d finished an underground fight. In a dimly lit, abandoned parking garage, the bare-chested teenager lay covered in his own blood on the makeshift ring, his fingers still clutching two crumpled bills. I crouched down, pushed his damp hair off his forehead, and patted his bruised, swollen face. He managed to pry one eye open, his gaze sharp and wary. “Who are you?” Seeing he was still alive, I smiled and stood up, then brought my foot down on a dark purple bruise on his arm. “I know you’re desperate for money,” I said conversationally. “And it just so happens I have a lot of it. I can give you more than you’ve ever dreamed of. The condition is, you have to be my dog. So, what do you say?” Before Caleb could answer, the System exploded in my ear. Host, your mission is to win him over, to get on his good side! Not to start bullying him ahead of schedule! The noise was annoying. I took out my cochlear implant, manually silencing the world, and continued to stare down at Caleb. He refused to speak. I pressed my foot down harder, grinding it into his injured flesh. “Answer me,” I urged. He gasped in pain, his hand shooting out to grab my ankle. He looked up, his bloodshot eyes studying me for a long, silent moment. Finally, his pale, blood-stained lips moved, shattering what little was left of his pride. I couldn’t hear him, but I knew what he was saying. “Yes.” On my way here, I’d had my people run a check on him. His adoptive parents—my biological ones—had been in prison since he was thirteen for vehicular manslaughter. Not only that, but they’d left him with a chronically ill younger sister. To pay for her medical bills, Caleb had started collecting trash and working odd, under-the-table jobs, scrambling for every last dollar. Eventually, he was forced onto this path, fighting in these illegal matches. To him, money was more important than anything. It was the only thing keeping his sister alive. 2 I saw him again three days later. He showed up at my villa wrapped in bandages, standing in the center of the living room beneath a massive crystal chandelier. I leaned back in my armchair, studying his face properly for the first time. It had been too covered in grime and blood before, but now I could see it clearly. He looked like a Shaw, especially like Logan—my so-called older brother. Their eyes were nearly identical: a pale, light color, with an upward tilt at the corners. When they narrowed their eyes, they reminded you of a hawk hunting on the plains. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. If that had been Logan I was staring at so disrespectfully, he probably would have had my pants stripped off and thrown me in the family chapel to be disciplined. “Logan,” I snarled, grinding my teeth. “Who?” Caleb asked, frowning at me in confusion. God, even the way he looked down on me was the same! Catching him off guard, I hooked my foot behind his knees, sending him crashing to the floor in front of me. He tried to scramble back up, but I was already on my feet, my shoe planted firmly on his shoulder, holding him down. “Caleb, my maid and my driver quit this morning,” I announced. “You’ll be taking their place. You’ll cook my meals and drive me to and from school. This arrangement will last for six months. During that time, you are on call, 24/7.” He looked up, his pale eyes like clear pools of water, a faint hint of confusion in them. “That’s it?” I raised an eyebrow and smiled, tapping his Adam’s apple with the toe of my shoe. “On paper, yes. But sometimes… I get in the mood for other things.” My voice was a suggestive purr. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his cheek. “What’s the matter? Don’t want to?” His head, which had been lowered, snapped up. His dark gaze met mine, and his eyes seemed to burn. Without any warning, he lunged forward and bit my lip. “I’m always at your service,” he rasped. I yelped and shoved him back. “Ugh, what the hell…” I spat, wiping my mouth. “System, didn’t you say he was straight? Does a straight guy just bite someone like that? That bastard broke the skin!” The System played dead, offering no response, leaving me to fume by myself. Maybe my stunned silence went on for too long, because he finally broke it. “Does the young master have any other orders?” I looked at him. He was still on his knees—a posture of submission—but his eyes held a defiant spark. A knot of frustration tightened in my chest. I told him to get out. As he was leaving, he glanced back at me, his gaze falling on my bare feet on the expensive rug. I saw his throat work as he swallowed. “It’s getting colder,” he said, his voice low. “You should… wear shoes.” I was so enraged I hurled an ashtray, and it shattered at his feet. Just like his goddamn brother. Both of them obsessed with whether or not I was wearing shoes. Fucking psychos. 3 Not long after Caleb left, a flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a torrential downpour. The System finally came back online. Host, Caleb doesn’t have an umbrella. You could bring one to him. It’s a great opportunity to improve your relationship. “In your dreams,” I snapped, rejecting its suggestion. I was about to head upstairs when I heard a knock at the door. Hmph. It had to be Caleb, coming back for shelter. I deliberately took my time, then sauntered over to the door, leaning against the frame with a practiced smirk, ready with a few sarcastic remarks. “Ca— Mr. Herman?” The middle-aged man in a black suit bowed respectfully. “Young Master,” he said, then stepped aside, gesturing for me to look behind him. A black sedan was parked in the driveway. Standing beside it, holding a large black umbrella, was Logan. I hadn’t seen him in three months. He stood tall and imposing, wrapped in the unmistakable air of someone in charge. He must have felt my gaze, because the umbrella tilted up, revealing a pale, exquisitely handsome face. Right now, it was as dark and stormy as the twilight sky behind him. I shivered involuntarily and walked toward him, getting into the car without a word. “What took you so long to open the door?” I looked down, guiltily rubbing my nose. “I was asleep. Didn’t hear the knock.” “Is that so?” He turned, his eyes landing on my face. They lingered for a beat before he suddenly leaned in, his fingers closing around my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Asher… are you seeing someone?” His cold thumb brushed over the bite mark on my lip, rubbing it with what felt like deliberate malice. “Your little girlfriend plays rough, I see.” Staring into his intense, pressuring gaze, I stammered, “No, I—I just bumped into something.” He let go, his eyes dark and unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. His voice cooled as he got back to the point. “It’s the family dinner tonight. I’m here to take you home.” I mumbled under my breath, “Why do I have to go? None of them even like me.” “You spend all your time chasing girls and hanging out in bars,” Logan said, his voice like ice. “When you act like such a good-for-nothing, of course no one will like you.” It was the first time he’d ever been so blunt. I never used to understand it. Every other member of the Shaw family was exceptional. They excelled in academia, business, politics—whatever they touched turned to gold. Logan, the best of them all, was practically born a king. I was the only exception. I was useless at everything. No matter how hard I tried, I was doomed to be mediocre. Now I finally understood. I wasn’t a Shaw at all. They were born with silver spoons in their mouths, while I was just trash. Even thrown into a golden nest like the Shaw family, I was still just trash. I had never, ever belonged. As expected, the second half of the dinner turned into another one of their lectures about me. Usually, Logan would step in and defend me, but tonight he just sat there, his mouth set in a grim line, silent. As they threw around phrases like “spoiled brat” and “useless degenerate,” I drank glass after glass of wine. Finally, I staggered to my feet, turned my glass upside down, and poured the last of the red wine onto the pristine white tablecloth. While they stared in stunned silence, I took out my cochlear implant, blocking out the noise I knew was about to erupt. “Enjoy the rest of your meal, uncles,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “I won’t be joining you.” As I turned to leave, Logan grabbed my wrist. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him. I just shook him off and walked away. 4 I was drunk and disoriented, stumbling alone along the winding mountain road. The wind whipped at my face, making my head throb. The System chose that moment to come back online, screaming in my ear. Ahhh! Host, you can’t just burn your bridges with the Shaw family like this! What are you going to do when your identity is exposed? “What’s the worst that can happen? I die? Can it possibly be worse than my last life?” In my last life, my body rotted in a ditch for seven days. My soul lingered, waiting, but not a single person came looking for me. None of them cared. Not even Logan. Host, why don’t you try to get on Caleb’s good side? He might be able to save you. “Get on his good side?” I stomped hard into a puddle, sending a shower of muddy water into the air. “Not a chance in hell.” The System let out a mournful wail. I’ve had so many hosts, but I’ve never seen one with such a disregard for their own life. This is a second chance, Host! I reached for my ear to pull out the implant again, only to realize I’d already left it at the dinner table. The System, noticing my surprise, gave a smug little chuckle. I knew you’d try that again, so I upgraded. I now transmit sound directly via brainwaves. I sighed in defeat, finally giving in to its incessant nagging. “Fine. I’ll go find Caleb. I need some insurance to stay alive.” It was a strange way to put it, but the System didn’t question it, happily going silent. 5 I sat down on a large rock and pulled out my phone to call Caleb. “Caleb, I’m drunk. Come pick me up at the bar.” He was silent for a moment before asking for the address, promising to be there in half an hour. The System, confused, was about to speak, but I was already making another call. This one was to the bar owner. “Hey, man. I’ve got a guy named Caleb coming to your place. Do me a favor. Get a rent boy, some drugs… toss them in a private room and get me a high-def, close-up video of his face. Nothing major, he just pissed me off and I want to mess with him a little. Thanks. When it’s done, my new sports car is yours.” The second I hung up, the System shrieked. Host, are you insane?! If this gets out, the Shaw family will tear you limb from limb! I shook my head dismissively. “You don’t get it. For a family like the Shaws, with their fingers in politics and business, reputation is everything. They can’t tolerate any hint of scandal. An indecent video of Caleb will be the best life insurance I could ever have.” The System went quiet for a moment, the only sound a faint static. But… Caleb will hate you. I laughed coldly, covering my eyes with my arm. “Who the fuck cares?” 6 My head was fuzzy. I closed my eyes and dozed off, only to be jolted awake by my phone ringing. “Asher Shaw, I’ve been waiting at the bar for half an hour. How much longer are you going to make me wait?” Caleb’s voice was hoarse, different from usual. Something was wrong. I sat up, suddenly more alert. “Did… did you drink something?” “No. But the owner poured me a glass of water. I drank half of it.” “…Do you feel unwell?” “What?” He finally seemed to realize something was off. His voice grew even raspier. “Did you drug me?” I hadn’t expected him to be so sharp. He’d figured it out instantly. My first instinct was to hang up. “The Shaws really are a clever bunch,” I mused. The System, unimpressed, set up a live feed of Caleb’s location directly in my mind. “Whoa, since when can you do this?” The last upgrade was comprehensive. I’m a very advanced AI! Before the System could finish boasting, the scene in my head became crystal clear. It was Caleb’s private room. The lights were dim. On the table, an overturned glass dripped water onto the floor. He was slumped on the sofa, his shirt half-open, exposing a wide expanse of skin. I could see his chest heaving, his breaths echoing in the empty room, growing heavier, more frantic. A pretty young man with a camera opened the door and walked toward him. The moment he leaned over Caleb, Caleb shot up, throwing the boy to the ground with a violent shove. A raw, furious snarl ripped through the air and into my mind. “Get out!” The boy scrambled away in terror. Caleb’s breathing was even more labored now. He was practically on his knees, his head thrown back. His blood-red eyes seemed to bore through the screen, directly at me, as he spat out my name with pure venom. “Asher. Shaw.” The sheer force of his hatred sent a shiver down my spine. I felt like a snake was coiling around my neck, about to squeeze the life out of me. Just then, the System’s mechanical voice chimed in. Host, Caleb’s hatred level is now at maximum. You won’t have to wait for your old enemies to find you. Caleb will kill you himself tomorrow. “So what do I do?” Well… you could try to… subdue him with your body? “How am I supposed to talk him down from this? Look at him! He’s not going to listen to reason, and it’s not like I’m in the right here!” I said, subdue him… with your *body*. 7 Before I could even start cursing out the System, I was teleported directly into the bar’s private room. Holy shit. It could even teleport. This damn thing was so powerful, I should turn it over to the government one day. Before I could get my bearings, a scorching hot body slammed into me from behind. One of Caleb’s hands closed around my throat, the other clamped onto my waist. His fiery breath washed over my face, his voice a murderous snarl. “Asher Shaw. You have a death wish.” I could feel his grip tightening on my neck. In my head, I was screaming at the System. “Great idea! You said this was to save my life, and you teleport me here to get murdered!” Host, this is what’s known as finding life in the face of certain death. “I don’t see any life here…” Before I could finish my thought, the hand on my throat changed its tune. His feverish thumb began to stroke my Adam’s apple, the pressure varying from light to heavy. Then, he lowered his head and bit down. Hard. “Ow! Is he part dog? Is he going to bite me to death?” … From my experience, this is where I should probably go offline. That damn System bailed on me again. I was on my own, my neck craned as his bites grew more frenzied. Both of his hands slipped under my shirt, locking around my waist like iron bands. “The young master’s waist… it’s so slender,” he rasped, his voice thick. “I wonder if it’ll snap when you start moving.” What kind of filthy line was that? I was about to retort when his mouth crashed down on mine. His hot, slick tongue forced its way past my teeth, exploring and conquering until he had devoured me completely. The kiss left me weak and pliant. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck to keep from falling. … Oh, what the hell. If I have to sleep my way out of this, so be it. 8 When I woke up the next morning, Caleb was gone. I was alone on the sofa, still in yesterday’s white shirt, which was now in tatters, barely covering me. I swore under my breath and tried to stand up, but the moment my foot touched the floor, my knees buckled. My entire body ached as if it had been taken apart and put back together wrong. “That bastard. He eats his fill and runs!” I called the bar owner and asked him to bring me a change of clothes. “Young Master Shaw… do you still want this flash drive?” he asked, placing the clothes beside me. He held up a tiny USB drive, his expression making it clear he knew exactly who was in yesterday’s video. I snatched it from him and threw it on the floor, intending to crush it under my heel. But then I hesitated, picked it back up, and pocketed it. “I’ll handle it. You can go.” I was halfway dressed when the door opened again. It was Caleb. After a whole night of… activity, he looked completely refreshed. He was neatly dressed, and his complexion was even better than before. “I thought you ran off,” I grumbled. “No. I went to buy you breakfast.” His voice was a little subdued. He placed the bag he was carrying on the coffee table. It was filled with pastries, fried dough, and rice noodles. I eyed it with disdain. “I only drink coffee in the morning.” “Drinking coffee on an empty stomach is bad for you. I got you soy milk. Drink this.” He pushed a cup of hot soy milk in front of me. The steam rising from the straw tickled my lips. I condescended to take a sip. Hmm. It was warm and actually pretty good. “About last night,” he started, his voice suddenly firm. “I think you need to take responsibility.” My eyes went wide. “What?” He became more self-righteous as he spoke. “Even though I… lost control, it was ultimately your fault. So, you have to take responsibility.” “Dude, you left me covered in bite marks. I think whatever I did, we’re even. Why should I be responsible? And besides, we’re both guys. How am I supposed to take responsibility? Marry you?” He glanced at the purple bruises on my neck and had the decency to look a little guilty. He lowered his head, his voice getting smaller. “You don’t have to… marry me or anything…” I waited, curious to see what other nonsense he’d come up with. He seemed to run out of words, waving his hand dismissively and mumbling, “Never mind.” Then he reached over and carefully buttoned up my shirt, hiding all the evidence of his crimes. 9 Caleb drove my car, taking me back to the villa where I lived alone. My legs were still trembling as I gripped the railing of the spiral staircase. I shot Caleb a glare, and he finally got the hint and came over to carry me up the rest of the way. I’d wanted him to give me a piggyback ride, but whatever. It was all the same. I’d just collapsed onto my bed when I heard the front door open downstairs. Caleb and I exchanged a look of confusion. Then, I heard familiar footsteps coming up the stairs. They stopped right outside my door. My blood ran cold. Logan. What was he doing here? Did he find out? No, no, it must be about me causing a scene at the dinner party. I leaped out of bed and shoved a bewildered Caleb into the closet. “Don’t make a sound. No matter what you hear, don’t come out.” He started to protest, but I clapped a hand over his mouth. “Please. I’m begging you.” He stared at me for a second, a strange flush creeping up the tips of his ears, then nodded. I shut the closet door, pulled the collar of my shirt up as high as it would go, and took a deep breath before opening my bedroom door. “Logan? What are you doing here?” His tall frame filled the doorway, his shadow falling over me. The first thing he looked at was my feet. “I knew you wouldn’t be wearing shoes.” He opened the gift bag he was carrying and took out a pair of fluffy bunny slippers. He knelt down, placed them by my feet, and lifted my leg to slide them on. I couldn’t be sure, but it felt like his fingertips lingered on my calf for a moment too long. “Asher, about yesterday…” His grip on my leg suddenly tightened. He yanked up my pant leg, revealing a fresh bite mark on my calf. “Where were you last night? Who were you with?” He looked up at me, his eyes shot with blood, his hand gripping my leg so tightly I thought it might break. “I-I didn’t go anywhere. A dog bit me…” Of course he didn’t buy my flimsy excuse. He stood up, grabbed the front of my shirt, and ripped it open, exposing my entire torso. “A dog bit you?” He was so angry his eyes were red, a cold, humorless smile twisting his lips. “All these marks… were they from a dog too?” Logan had always been intimidating, but I had rarely seen him this furious. He looked like he wanted to flay me alive. I just stood there, frozen, with no idea what to do.

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I spiked my nemesis’s drink, hoping to see him make a fool of himself. The moment I turned around, he caught me. But instead of getting angry, a slow smile spread across his face as he picked up the glass and downed it in one go. I could only stare, frozen, as he began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness, his voice a low, lazy drawl. “You’d better run now… before it’s too late.” 1 The high school reunion was in full swing, the private room buzzing with energy and laughter. But when Julian Trammell walked in, the atmosphere hit a fever pitch. Of course it did. The guy was a legend, always at the top of the class, the undisputed king of our high school. Our eyes met across the crowded room, his dark and unreadable. It was the first time I’d seen him since graduation. I watched as a swarm of girls flocked to him, their attention bordering on predatory. With a quiet scoff, I knocked back my drink. My old desk mate, Mark, nudged me. “Andy, I thought you couldn’t stand the guy. How come you’re so quiet now?” “I still can’t stand him,” I muttered. It wasn’t just that my mom paraded him around as the gold standard of academic achievement. The real problem started when he transferred into our advanced placement track. Overnight, my dating prospects evaporated. Mark leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, and slid a small packet into my hand. “So… wanna mess with him a little?” The alcohol had already gone to my head. I looked down at the small pills in my palm and thought, Yeah, that bastard needs to be knocked off his high horse. I slipped away to the back lounge where I’d stashed a bottle of expensive wine I’d brought to share. Hmph. Guess he’s getting the good stuff. The deep red liquid swirled in the glass. A tiny white pill dropped in, dissolving almost instantly. I hesitated for a second, then added two more for good measure. Let’s see what those girls think when they see the real Mr. Perfect. 2 I swirled the wine one last time. Behind me, the lock clicked shut. I whipped around to find Julian leaning against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. “There you are, Andy. I was looking for you.” “What for?” I asked, my heart starting to pound. “To catch up, of course.” His voice was as smooth as ever, but there was an undercurrent of something sharp, something… displeased. His gaze dropped to the packet in my hand. I shoved it into my pocket, but it was too late. A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Planning on spiking my drink? No need to be so shy about it.” “…” Damn it. My brilliant plan, busted before it even began. Julian took a step forward, plucked the glass from my hand, and drained it. I just stood there, my hand still hanging in mid-air, completely stunned. This was not part of the plan. “Julian, are you insane? Do you even know what that was?” “I have an idea,” he said, his eyes lifting to meet mine. There was a flicker of something wicked in their depths, something I’d only seen glimpses of before. He smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. “Aren’t you going to run?” “Any longer, and it’ll be too late.” “…” My eyes went wide. I lunged for the door, twisting the handle frantically. Nothing. It was locked from the inside. Son of a bitch. I spun back around. Julian was slowly, methodically, unfastening the buttons of his shirt as if the room had suddenly become too warm. “Julian, where’s the key?” He just smiled and started walking toward me, his steps unhurried. My back hit the cold wood of the door, and a bead of sweat trickled down my spine. Oh god, I’d put in extra. “The key…” he murmured, closing the distance between us. He took my hand. I thought he was going to give it to me, but instead, he guided my palm to his chest, resting it just above his collarbone. The skin there was already burning up. He slowly dragged my hand downward, over the hard plane of his pectoral muscle. My ears burned. I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, guiding me lower… …and lower, until my fingers brushed against the waistband of his jeans. He pressed my body flat against the door, his breath coming in ragged pants. “It’s right here,” he rasped, his voice thick. “If you’ve got the guts, come and get it yourself.” Shameless bastard! Before I could even process the words, his mouth was on mine. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a conquest. My world tilted, my mind short-circuiting. I tried to push him away, but he pinned me easily. Wasn’t Julian a pre-med? Where the hell did he get this kind of strength? The lights of the lounge seemed to blur and spin. The next thing I knew, he had me sitting on the wide windowsill, his body pressing me back against the cool glass. He bit down on my shoulder. “Ow!” His breath was hot against my ear, but his voice was chillingly cool. “You deserve this, Andy.” His words were a low growl. “Didn’t we promise to go to the same university? You’re the one who broke your word first.” … 3 Through the haze of the night, only one thing was crystal clear: he’d played me. There was no key. Not there. That son of a bitch. At least the expensive wine didn’t go to waste. Last night, Julian, his face flushed a deep crimson, had put that bottle to very creative use. I had no idea where he’d learned some of those moves. When I woke up, I staggered out of bed, my legs shaky as I gathered my scattered clothes. Julian was propped up on one elbow, casually watching my pathetic state with an amused glint in his eyes. “You know, Andy, seeing you like this makes me want to start all over again.” “Shut up!” You goddamn hypocrite. I was convinced he’d planned this whole thing just to mess with me. My legs were so weak I could barely stand, my hands trembling as I tried to button my shirt. A pair of warm arms wrapped around me from behind. He steadied me, his fingers slowly doing up the buttons I was fumbling with. “So, Andy,” he murmured into my ear, “how does it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?” “…” Just three little pills, and I was almost broken. “That stuff you got is pretty effective. Maybe you could give me some more?” “Julian, are you a fucking sadist?” “I just thought this was the kind of game you liked to play.” He chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, his tone dripping with a playful cruelty that made my skin crawl. I shoved him away, my face a cold mask. “I was drunk last night. If you dare tell a soul about this, I’ll kill you.” 4 The truth is, deep down, I’ve always been a little afraid of Julian. To everyone else, he was the picture of a perfect student—refined, brilliant, and polite. But I’d seen the other side of him. I’d seen him corner a stray cat once, his expression anything but kind. And I’d seen him fight. His own father, drunk and belligerent, had said something to set him off. The way Julian hit him was terrifyingly methodical, each blow harder than the last. The sheer violence in his eyes was a fury I had never witnessed in anyone before. If a security guard hadn’t intervened, I think he might have actually killed him. His face was splattered with blood, but his gaze found me hiding around the corner with chilling accuracy. He offered me a small, bloody smile. “Enjoying the show?” I ran. I ran and didn’t look back. I never told anyone what I saw. Over time, it became this unspoken, twisted secret between us. Sometimes, when adults were praising him, he’d shoot me a look over their shoulders—a warm, polite smile for them, and a mischievous, taunting arch of his eyebrow just for me. “Andy’s grades are excellent too,” he’d say once, his voice smooth as silk. “Why don’t you apply to Kingston with me?” “…” Like hell I would. 5 I blocked Julian’s number. After a week of successfully avoiding him, I found him sitting in my living room. It was my mom’s birthday at the end of July, and his mother had brought him along to drop off a gift. He gave me a subtle smile, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in a gesture that was just for me. I stiffened, looking away. The marks he’d left on my body hadn’t even fully faded. I tried to escape to my room, but my mom stopped me. “Don’t just hide in your room playing video games all day. Julian’s here. You two should talk. He’s a top student at Kingston University now, you know.” “Big deal,” I mumbled. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get into Kingston; I’d deliberately chosen Lanton University instead. She forced me to sit on the couch next to him. The moment he shifted slightly, I shot up like a rocket, knocking over a pitcher of water on the coffee table. Julian glanced at me, a lazy, knowing look in his eyes. “So clumsy.” He spoke softly, grabbing a napkin to dab at my jeans. To our parents, he was the perfect, helpful friend. But his fingers pressed down right over a spot that was still tender, a faint bruise he himself had left. A dull ache shot through me, awakening memories I’d been trying to bury. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” My mom shot me a glare, mortified by my rudeness. “Andy, Julian is our guest. Can you please be civil? Here,” she said, pulling out two tickets. “My work gave me these. They’re for a movie you young people would like. You and Julian should go.” No way in hell. I didn’t move, but Julian graciously accepted them. “Thank you, Auntie.” 6 That night, I escaped to a bar with my best friend, Jimmi. Being cooped up at home listening to my mom’s lectures was driving me crazy. Jimmi is gay. A total bottom. After every breakup, he dramatically swears off dating and begs me to be his top. But I’m not gay, and I keep telling him to stop dreaming. “I called you a few days ago. Why didn’t you pick up? You’ve been acting weirdly secretive. Don’t tell me you got a boyfriend behind my back,” he said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. I quickly clinked my glass against his, changing the subject. “Nah, you know my mom. If I go out too much, I’ll never hear the end of it.” The real reason was that the marks on my body were still visible. I needed a few more days for them to fade. Jimmi’s eyes scanned the crowd, hunting for his next handsome target. I watched his animated profile and found myself wondering: How could Julian be gay? He had girls falling all over him. Hadn’t a single one caught his interest? Jimmi suddenly turned back to me. “Why are you staring at me like that? Andy, you’re being extra weird tonight. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?” “Get lost. I’m not into that.” “I mean, for you, I could make an exception and top.” “…” A power bottom? The mental image was too horrifying to contemplate. My phone lit up on the table. An unknown number. I answered it, but the line was silent. Thinking the bar was too loud, I stepped outside. “Hello? Who is this?” “Why weren’t you at the theater? I waited for a long time.” “…” That cool, measured voice sent a shiver down my spine. “I never said I was going. Stop bothering me.” I hung up, irritated. When I looked up, I saw him standing across the street. Julian. Dressed in a black button-down, he stood so still he almost blended into the night. My heart leaped into my throat as he started walking towards me. I tried to duck back into the bar, but he caught my arm before I could make it. “This is the second time you’ve lied to me, Andy.” His voice was calm, but the undercurrent of fury was terrifying. “What are you talking about? I never made any plans with you. That was all in your head.” I struggled against his grip, but his warm fingers clamped down on the back of my neck. He dragged me into a nearby alley, his gaze intense, lost in his own twisted logic. “Now, let’s see… how should I punish you this time?” 7 My heart hammered against my ribs as Julian pinned me against the cold brick wall. “Let me go!” I kicked, I punched, I swore at him, but he didn’t react. He just watched me with a disturbing, detached interest, as if observing a cornered animal in its final, desperate struggle. When I was exhausted, he calmly reached out to smooth my messy hair. “Don’t touch me, you psycho.” “Well, since you’ve already labeled me,” he murmured, his eyes darkening, “I might as well live up to it.” “…” Seeing that look, I was genuinely scared. Julian’s smile was a chilling curve in the dim light. “Andy, look up.” The next second, his teeth sank into the side of my neck. It wasn’t a gentle bite. He held me tight, giving me no room to escape. My eyes welled up with tears of pain, my fingers digging into his arms. “What the hell are you doing? Are you a dog?” “Just leaving a little mark,” he whispered against my skin, “to make sure you don’t go straying.” “You… ow! Lighter!” I threw a punch, but he caught my wrist easily. He kissed the spot on my neck, his hot breath traveling up to the corner of my mouth. Even in the gloom of the alley, a stray beam of light caught the sharp, perfect lines of his face. If his eyes weren’t filled with such unnerving darkness, I might have actually admired the view. Footsteps echoed from the end of the alley. “Andy? Andy! Where the hell are you?” It was Jimmi. He heard the scuffling and took a few steps closer. My eyes flew open in panic. I aimed a kick at Julian’s shin. “Let go!” “And if I don’t?” Julian’s expression hardened at the sound of Jimmi’s voice. His entire demeanor shifted into something colder, more dangerous. I couldn’t bear the thought of Jimmi finding out about this—about me being tangled up with another guy. With his big mouth, the entire school would think I was gay by morning. “Please, just stop…” I begged, my voice barely a whisper, trembling. Seeing the raw fear in my eyes seemed to please him. A slow smile spread across his face, like he’d just won a prize. He ducked his head, his hand cupping the back of my neck. “If you don’t want him to find out,” he murmured, “don’t move.” His lips crashed down on mine, warm but anything but gentle. It was a frantic, possessive kiss that felt like being devoured by a predator. His tall frame completely shielded me from view. Jimmi glanced down the alley, probably mistook us for some random couple making out, and quickly turned away. Even after he was gone, Julian didn’t let me go. His fingers toyed with the nape of my neck, his other hand roaming my waist. A wave of heat washed over me. I bit his lip, hard. He finally pulled back. I gasped for air and tried to bolt back to the bar, but his arm snaked around my waist, holding me fast. “The punishment isn’t over. You’re not going anywhere.” “…” He dragged me, protesting, all the way downtown. We walked down a street lined with the flashing neon signs of a dozen different hotels. A cold dread washed over me. He wasn’t thinking of… that again, was he? “I can’t walk anymore. I’m tired,” I said, digging my heels in. He just chuckled. “Want me to carry you?” “No.” Julian pulled me around a corner and into a movie theater. I saw the giant screen and let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Since I’d skipped our “date,” he’d bought tickets for the last showing and was determined to make me watch it with him. It was some artsy film I couldn’t get into. Halfway through, I fell asleep. In my drowsy state, I felt the person beside me wrap a possessive arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. 8 Julian left a deep, angry mark on my neck. There was no way I could go out like that, so I was forced to hide at home. It took two full weeks for all the marks on my neck and body to finally disappear. The moment they did, I dragged Jimmi to the riverbank. When we were kids, we used to buy firecrackers and try to stun fish in the river after school. Now, the city was stricter, so we settled for grilling skewers and setting off fireworks by the water at night. The riverbank was lively, filled with students on summer break and families camping out. Jimmi lit a sparkler and demanded I take artsy, influencer-style photos of him. I have zero talent for photography; the pictures came out so bad he chased me halfway down the bank. “Andy, you made me look like a ghost! You think you can just run away? Get back here! You’re not going home until you get a decent shot!” We were fooling around when I turned and bumped squarely into someone. I started to apologize, then looked up and saw that infuriatingly handsome, smug face. My playful mood vanished instantly. Julian raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Not happy to see me?” “What are you doing here?” I took a step back, instinctively putting distance between us. “Your mom told me you were here. I came to check on you.” The moment Jimmi saw a handsome face, he was all over him. “Hey there!” Julian gave him a curt nod, maintaining his usual polite and reserved facade. I shot Jimmi a series of desperate, warning looks from the side, but he was completely oblivious, charmed by Julian’s good looks. He even tried to drag him into our games. I lost all interest and went back to grilling chicken wings by myself. A little while later, Jimmi walked off to take a call, and Julian came and sat down next to me. “When are you going to unblock me?” “Maybe in the next life.” “…” He let out a soft laugh, took one of the skewers, and bit into a wing. After a moment of silence, he took the rest of the food from my hands. “Here, let me.” His hands were elegant, his movements precise and unhurried. As I watched him, so calm and confident, I couldn’t help but think about all the times our parents had compared us. It was so damn annoying. 9 Jimmi dragged me off to light more fireworks, whispering questions about Julian. “Is he into guys or girls? How could you have a friend this hot and not tell me?” “He’s the guy I was complaining about, the one who always beat me into second place. Still think he’s so hot now?” “…” Jimmi snuck a glance back at Julian, then lowered his voice. “Honestly? I can see why you lost.” “You little traitor!” I raised my fist to playfully punch him. He dodged and ran into the crowd, and I took off after him. A little kid nearby was playing with a Roman candle, not paying attention to where he was aiming it. As I ran past, the tube swiveled directly towards my face. A flash of fire, a brilliant, terrifying spark. Before I could even register what was happening, a strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me back as a body shielded me from the front. BANG. The firework discharged directly into Julian’s back. I was enveloped in his clean, familiar scent, my mind a complete blank. “Are you okay?” Julian’s voice was steady as he checked me over, then shot a sharp look at the kid. Before he could say a word, the child burst into tears and quickly pointed the firework at an empty patch of ground. The danger had passed. I tried to push him away, but he leaned his weight against my shoulder. “Ow, that hurts,” he murmured. “Let’s just stay like this for a minute.” “Stop faking it. Stand up.” “I just saved your life, Andy. You’re going to have to repay me for that.” The way he drew out the word “repay” was heavy with insinuation, his breath warm against my ear. “Cut it out.” I gave him another shove and my hand came away sticky. The thin fabric of his shirt had been blasted open, and his back was burned. “Julian, I’m taking you to the hospital.” 10 We spent half the night at the hospital getting Julian’s wound cleaned and bandaged. When my mom found out, she lectured me endlessly. “Julian comes from a single-parent home. His mother works so hard, and now she has to take time off to care for him. You’ve just made things more difficult for her.” “How was I supposed to know this would happen?” I mumbled, picking at the food in my bowl. I felt a pang of guilt. When I dropped Julian off last night, his apartment was dark and empty. It felt… lonely. My mom sighed, then handed me a thermos of pork rib soup. “Take this to him.” I didn’t want to go, but I took the thermos and went anyway. … The door opened, and I was greeted by a wall of well-defined muscle. Even though I’d seen it before, it still made me uncomfortable. I averted my eyes. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” “My back hurts. Clothes irritate it.” He sounded weak, almost pitiful. I stepped inside and opened the thermos, telling him to drink the soup. He took a sip, then looked at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Is this your idea of repayment?” “I guess.” After all, he did get hurt saving me. If he hadn’t been there, that firework could have hit my face. “A bowl of soup isn’t nearly enough.” His long fingers stirred the broth, his dark eyes fixed on me. That look always gave me a bad feeling. “Just drink it. I have to get home.” “What’s the rush? You can help me change my bandages later.” “Go to the clinic for that.” “It’s too hot out. I don’t want to go.” I was speechless. After he finished the soup, Julian led me to his bedroom. The room was immaculate, his shelves packed with textbooks and research papers. In a corner under his desk were towering stacks of used scratch paper. So, the top student wasn’t just a genius; he put in more effort than anyone ever saw. The resentment I’d held onto for so long suddenly deflated. He lay face down on the bed and arched an eyebrow at me. “The medicine is on the table.” “…” He was, without a doubt, the most shameless person I had ever met. I sat on the edge of the bed and started to apply the ointment. The muscles of his back were sleek and powerful, clearly the result of regular workouts. It should have been a completely clinical situation, but my mind kept flashing back to… other situations. My ears started to burn. My hand accidentally brushed against the base of his spine. He let out a low groan. He looked over his shoulder, his voice raspy. “Are you doing that on purpose?” “What?” Before I could decipher the dangerous glint in his eyes, he yanked me forward. He trapped me in his arms, his voice a low, lazy drawl. “In a place as dangerous as a bed, Andy, I’m easily provoked.” “Who’s trying to provoke you? Let me go!” I pushed against him with some force. “Julian, if you don’t want to injure yourself again, you’d better let go of me right now.” He stared back, unfazed, and easily pinned my wrists to the pillow above my head. The sheer pressure of his presence was suffocating. Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have come. His fingers traced a path up my neck, a gentle, possessive caress. I trembled, feeling like a fish on a cutting board. “The marks are gone…” he murmured, then leaned in and bit down. Right on the same spot. If he left another mark, how was I supposed to face anyone? I struggled desperately. “Julian, you psycho, let me go!” “Stop biting, it hurts!” I winced, wishing I could kick the damn dog off me. He pulled back to admire the fresh red mark on my neck and smiled with satisfaction. “There. We’ll call that repayment.” “You’re sick.” I glared at him, the pain bringing tears to my eyes. He gently pinched my earlobe, his lips brushing against the corner of my eye. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll want more than just this.” “…” I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears back. But his kisses continued, soft and insistent, until they finally found my lips.

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The horde was at our gates, and Lena, my wife and Vanguard leader, took her team to celebrate her ex’s birthday. The Commander ordered me to retrieve them. I refused. Last life, I’d raced to bring them back. We won, but her precious James got cornered and eaten by zombies—just his head left. Lena went berserk retrieving his corpse. She locked herself away for a week, then acted like nothing happened. When my serum cured humanity, she drugged me and fed me to zombies. “You lured the horde here,” she hissed. “You stole his research. Go to hell.” I woke up back at the attack. This time? Let her party. 1 The symphony of gunshots and screams was the sound of my rebirth. I was heading for the door when the Commander burst in, his face pale. “Dr. Larry! The horde is here! Get Lena to rally the Vanguard, now!” Before I could answer, the voice of Marcus, our logistics chief, cut through the panic. “Commander! I’ve searched everywhere. The Vanguard is gone. Every last one of them. And they took our remaining armored trucks!” A wave of terror washed over the faces of the survivors huddled in the lab. The Commander froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Gone? Where did they go?!” I let out a heavy sigh, the truth a bitter pill. “They went with Lena. To the Exchange, for James’s birthday party.” “What?!” The Commander’s face was a mask of shock. “We had intel yesterday! A horde was on its way! They were all put on high alert! And they left—all of them—for a goddamn birthday party?” Behind him, the whispers turned to furious muttering. The survivors’ fear was curdling into rage. To abandon the entire Sanctuary for one man’s birthday… The roar of the horde grew closer, punctuated by another volley of gunfire. People screamed and ducked, the lab dissolving into chaos. The Commander took charge. “Everyone with a firearm, secure the main gate! The rest of you, get to the research wing’s basement! Do not come out until you hear a friendly voice, you understand?” After directing the stream of terrified survivors, he turned to me, his expression grim. “Dr. Larry, you’re a pyrokinetic, and you know their weaknesses better than anyone. There’s still a small jeep in the research garage. You have to go after them. Bring them back.” I shook my head, a knot of futility tightening in my gut. “Commander, it’s not that I don’t want to. But even if I reach them, Lena won’t believe a word I say.” A heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone knew. Ever since James, another researcher, had arrived at the Sanctuary, Lena’s infatuation had been a public spectacle. Everyone knew we fought constantly over him, that we had divorce papers drawn up and waiting. As they stared at me, trapped and helpless, Marcus stepped forward. “I’ll go,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ve got a rifle and some charges. I can make it out. The serum is in its final stage. We can’t risk the Doctor.” The Commander nodded, and Marcus didn’t waste a second, peeling out of the emergency tunnel in the jeep. The Commander led the armed defense, a desperate stand against the tide of the dead, while the rest of us huddled in the basement. Two hours later, Marcus returned. Hope flickered in every eye as he staggered through the door, but it was extinguished in an instant. He was alone. One of his team members rushed to his side. “Marcus? What happened? Where are they?” Marcus’s eyes were bloodshot. He fell to his knees, his body trembling. “I’m sorry… I failed,” he choked out. “Lena… she called me a liar. Said I was in on some sick joke with you, Dr. Larry, just to ruin the party.” He looked up, his face a canvas of pain and betrayal. “I begged them. I told them the whole Sanctuary would fall. They just… they used their powers to hold me down while they laughed. They said I’d get what I deserved for trying to trick them.” He was covered in bruises and cuts, the jeep behind him a mangled wreck. It was clear they hadn’t been gentle. The story ignited a firestorm of fury. “Vanguard Captain? She’s nothing but a whore, circling that pretty boy James while we all burn!” The angry shouts were cut short by a deafening boom from outside. The ground shuddered. Panic erupted again. The Commander reappeared, his face streaked with grime and despair. “An Alpha! It’s here, commanding the horde! The main gate won’t hold!” “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” a survivor sobbed, their voice trembling with terror. I looked at the terrified, soot-stained faces around me and raised my communicator. “I’ve already contacted the military. A rescue convoy is on its way, but it will take time. We have to hold on!” I turned to the group. “I’ll go find help. I’ll go to the neighboring outposts and beg for reinforcements. We just need to buy more time!” Marcus’s eyes lit up. He struggled to his feet, ready to go, but swayed and nearly collapsed. The others caught him, and as they helped him to a seat, they saw it: a massive, grotesque gash on his back, the unmistakable mark of a zombie’s claws. He managed a weak, bitter smile. “Let me go. I’m already infected. If I can bring back help… let that be the last thing I do.” The logistics team turned away, unable to watch. Soft sobs echoed in the cramped basement. “You’re not going anywhere,” I said, pulling a vial of pale blue liquid from my coat. I hesitated for only a second before holding it out to him. “This is the latest version of the serum. It’s been successful in animal trials. I have no idea if it will work on a person… but right now, it’s all we’ve got.” Ignoring the protests, I grabbed the keys to the battered jeep and headed for the exit. The Commander stopped me at the door. “Dr. Larry, be fast. Our ammo will last two hours, tops.” I gave him a solemn nod. I had barely cleared the Sanctuary’s perimeter when headlights appeared, coming straight for me. My heart leaped. I slammed on the brakes and waved frantically. The driver was Rhys, the Vanguard captain from the northern outpost. I jumped out of my jeep, grabbing his arm in relief. “Rhys! Thank God you’re here! There’s no time, you have to come back to the Sanctuary with me…” He shoved my hand away, his face contorted in a sneer. “Still putting on a show, Larry?” 2 I stared at him, completely baffled. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you get the distress call?” Rhys blocked my path, his eyes filled with contempt. “You mean the distress call from your own impending escape? Captain Lena radioed me this morning. She told me everything. Told me to wait here and stop you from running away like a coward.” He spat on the ground. “And to think we all respected you, ‘Doctor.’ That serum of yours is a load of crap, isn’t it? Just a cover for your getaway. You’re a real piece of work.” I stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. It took me a moment for his words to sink in. Lena had said something similar, right before she’d had me killed in my past life. She said I lured the horde to kill James. That I stole his research to create the serum. My heart plummeted. It hit me like a physical blow. Lena… she’d been reborn, too. That’s why Marcus couldn’t convince them. And now… she’d cut off our last lifeline. Thinking of the desperate faces back in the basement, I pushed aside my shock. “Rhys, listen to me! Get your team and follow me back to the Sanctuary right now. If I’m lying, you can do whatever you want to me! I swear on my life!” I grabbed his jacket. “There are hundreds of people in there. I would not joke about this!” He just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Nice speech. How do I know this isn’t another one of your tricks? And even if the horde did show up, Lena and her Vanguard are there. You expect me to believe they can’t handle a few zombies?” I yanked him closer by his collar, my voice raw with fury. “Yes, it would be easy if Lena was there! But she’s not! She took her whole team to a birthday party for James!” I was screaming now, my face hot with rage. “Do you know why she called you yesterday, Rhys? She planned this! She sent you here to stop me, to make sure no one interrupted her precious celebration!” For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. “No… that’s impossible. Lena wouldn’t abandon her post, not for… personal reasons. She wouldn’t risk the entire Sanctuary.” He shook his head, trying to convince himself. “You’re lying.” I looked at him, and all the fight went out of me, replaced by a wave of crushing despair. I used to trust her like that, too. Unconditionally. We’d met in college. When the world fell apart, we’d survived it together, side-by-side. I thought she was the one person I could always count on. I thought we would see the end of this nightmare together. But that all changed the day James arrived. She would snap at me, accusing me of alienating the “new guy” whenever James was in a mood, even though he was a worthless nepotism hire who knew nothing about real research. She would find time in her packed schedule to cook special meals for him, fawning over him in front of everyone, making no secret of her affection. While I, her husband, stood by and watched. A familiar, bitter taste filled my mouth, but this was no time for self-pity. If he wouldn’t help, I’d go to another outpost. Even a single squad of reinforcements could be enough to turn the tide. I scrambled back into my jeep and slammed my foot on the accelerator. Rhys immediately swerved his own truck, blocking my path. “You’re not going anywhere, Larry!” I saw red. I didn’t care anymore. I floored it, aiming straight for him. If I had to die today, I was dragging reinforcements back with me. My move startled him. He reacted instantly, a wave of kinetic energy erupting from his hands, shredding the front of my jeep and killing the engine. I slammed my fists on the useless steering wheel, my voice cracking. “Rhys, get out of my way! They’re dying in there!” He ignored me, his jaw set, planting himself in front of the wreckage. “I’ll go with you. But if you’re lying to me…” “Then radio your team!” I cut him off, my voice hoarse. “Tell them to get ready! I’m not lying!” One man wasn’t enough. We needed his entire Vanguard. Rhys stared at me, his resolve finally wavering. He pulled out his communicator. The next second, the emergency broadcast channel crackled to life, a robotic voice cutting through the silence. [ALERT. ALERT. SOUTHERN SANCTUARY UNDER CRITICAL SIEGE BY ZOMBIE HORDE. ALL AVAILABLE VANGUARD UNITS IN THE SECTOR ARE TO PROVIDE IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE.] [REPEAT: ALL AVAILABLE VANGUARD UNITS ARE TO PROVIDE IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE.] The color drained from Rhys’s face. 3 By the time Rhys and I made it back, the Sanctuary was a slaughterhouse. The air hung thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder. Gunshots and screams echoed through the research labs, now overrun with the dead. Limbs and torsos littered the corridors, a gruesome testament to the failed defense. My eyes burned with tears. No matter what I did, I was too late. Rhys stood beside me, speechless, his face ashen. I ignited my power, fire erupting from my palms, incinerating the closest zombies. The shock finally broke Rhys’s trance, and he joined the fight, a whirlwind of motion and controlled violence. Just as my energy reserves began to bottom out, a zombie lunged at me from my blind side. I had no time to dodge, only to wrap myself in a desperate shield of flame, bracing for the impact. BANG! A single gunshot sent the creature stumbling sideways. Marcus was standing at the entrance to the basement, a pistol in his shaking hands, picking off the undead one by one. At the same time, the silhouettes of more Powered fighters appeared at the main gate. Reinforcements had arrived. A surge of desperate hope flooded through me. We fought side-by-side with the newly arrived teams, a coordinated storm of power and bullets that drove the horde back. When the last zombie was finally cut down, I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. The basement door creaked open. But when the survivors emerged, my relief curdled into horror. Barely a tenth of them had made it. The smile died on my lips. Rhys approached me, his head bowed in shame. “I’m so sorry, Larry. This is my fault.” Before I could respond, a cheerful, lilting voice echoed through the ravaged hall. “Well, look at this! Are all you guys here to throw a surprise party for James?” And there she was. Lena, walking in with James’s arm wrapped around her waist, her Vanguard team trailing behind them, all smiles and laughter. Her smile faltered as she took in the carnage. Her eyes landed on me, and a cruel, mocking smirk spread across her face. “So, is the little drama over, Evan? How does it feel to have your plan fall apart?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. It’s James’s birthday. Don’t be an eyesore. We have a party to get back to.” She was practically giddy, completely oblivious to the daggers being stared at her from all sides. Her own team members were starting to notice the bodies, their cheerful expressions slowly dissolving into confusion and horror. James, meanwhile, pulled Lena into a deep, theatrical kiss right in front of me. When he broke away, he shot me a smug, triumphant look. “Sorry, Dr. Larry. Lena lost a dare. She has to be my girlfriend for the day. You don’t mind, do you?” His smirk was wiped off his face by a bucket of filthy water. A survivor, his eyes blazing with hatred, stood trembling before them. He and the others began grabbing anything they could find—metal pipes, broken equipment—and started advancing. “You son of a bitch! What are you gloating about? Enjoying the party you paid for with our lives?” “You monster! Why aren’t you the one lying dead on the floor?!” “Get out! We don’t need you two traitors protecting us!” …

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I was the hero’s first love, the one who died too young. Fifteen years after my death, a system resurrected me and told me to save the boy on the rooftop. “He is your flesh and blood. If you don’t help him, he’ll have nothing left.” But I’ve always been spoiled and hot-tempered. I’m the one who gets waited on, not the other way around. So I strode over in my heels, grabbed him by the collar, and snapped, “Stop with the theatrics. You’re just as pathetic as your father.” “Speaking of him, where is he? Doesn’t he know I’m back? Why isn’t he here to pick me up?”

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“I’m done playing around. Let’s get married.” The call came from my ex-fiancé, Adam. I looked down at my daughter’s peaceful, sleeping face, then pulled up the two-year-old digital wedding invitation and the birth announcement I’d posted on social media. I screenshotted both and sent them to him. My phone rang again almost immediately. It was Adam, and he let out a derisive scoff. “When did you learn to pull these kinds of stunts? I already said I’d marry you. Stop playing these ridiculous games, understand?” What was there not to understand? He was the one who didn’t get it. “Adam, I’m not joking. I got married six months after we broke up.” 1 A clatter of frantic sounds came through the phone, followed by the dial tone. The memories flooded back, a relentless tide. Adam and I had grown up together, our families a perfect match. Our engagement had been a natural, inevitable step. I’d believed we would get married, have children, and grow old together. That is, until the student intern showed up in his life. Her name was Chloe. I’d gone to find him at his graduate lab one day, bringing a warm cup of homemade soy milk for everyone. When I offered one to Chloe, she didn’t take it. Her eyes, perfectly outlined with a sharp cat-eye, glanced at the cup in my hand. “Thanks, but I don’t drink stuff like that. I’m a coffee person.” I flushed, a little embarrassed. I wanted to explain that I’d made it myself from an organic, wellness recipe, that it was good for you. But she just covered her mouth with a delicate hand and giggled. “Sorry, I’m just brutally honest. I didn’t mean your gesture was cheap or anything. I’ve heard from the other grad students that Adam’s girlfriend is very… domestic. And it seems you’re very thrifty, too.” The atmosphere turned instantly awkward. The people holding their soy milk didn’t know whether to keep it or put it down. I didn’t want to make things difficult for everyone, so I just forced a smile. “I’ll just leave them on the table. Help yourselves if you’d like.” I took one out and handed it to Adam. Just as he reached for it, a slender figure pounced, linking her arm intimately through his. “Sorry, ma’am, but Adam’s having coffee with me.” I stared at Adam in disbelief. But his face was a mask of annoyance. He yanked his arm free from her grasp. “Enough.” “I’m drinking the soy milk my fiancée brought me,” he said, his voice cold. “If you want coffee, go drink it alone.” Seeing his frosty expression, Chloe pouted. “I was just joking. Why are you so angry?” Adam ignored her. On the way home, the city sky was a familiar, hazy gray. Chloe’s strange hostility lingered in my mind. “Adam,” I finally asked, “that new girl in your lab… does she have a crush on you?” Adam laughed, ruffling my hair. “Don’t overthink it. She’s just a spoiled brat with no manners. You’re the only one for me. There’s only one future Mrs. Chapman, and it’s you. Okay?” His words melted my anxiety, and a sweet smile spread across my face. I believed we would walk this path together for the rest of our lives. 2 And we should have. But one day, something shifted. At a lab dinner, the first piece of food Adam picked up went straight into Chloe’s bowl. He didn’t even seem to notice. Then, he put a piece of wood ear mushroom on my plate. “Adam, I don’t eat this!” We had known each other since we were children; we knew each other’s tastes inside and out. It was a rookie mistake he should never have made. He turned to me, his voice low and explanatory. “Chloe ordered it. We’re out with everyone, you have to be considerate. Don’t be so picky.” I wasn’t the kind of person who forbade certain foods from the table just because I didn’t like them. What I cared about was that he knew I didn’t eat it, yet he gave it to me anyway. Chloe sipped her juice, a sweet smile on her face. “Sorry about that, Jenna.” “I didn’t realize you had such a temper. But you know, you should really eat more of this stuff. It’s perfect for women… of a certain age. Clears out the system, you know? Cools you down.” My face went cold. “We’re not related, so why do you keep calling me ‘sis’? Besides, you didn’t get into this grad program on your first try. I’m only a few months older than you!” The table fell silent. A senior student who knew us both stood up, trying to smooth things over. But Adam slammed his chopsticks on the table. “Jenna, don’t take it too far. This isn’t your house, you can’t just do whatever you want.” I looked at him as if he were a stranger. Just moments ago, when Chloe was taking jabs at me, he’d said nothing. The second I fought back, he accused me of going too far. I grabbed my bag and stood up to leave. Adam hesitated for a second, then stood and apologized to the table. “Sorry, everyone. I have to go. I’ll treat you all another time.” He followed me out. Behind us, Chloe’s face darkened. After that, I avoided any gathering where Chloe would be present. Adam knew we didn’t get along and mostly kept us apart. But one day, another senior student from the lab sent me a message. “Jenna, you should probably come by. The queen is away, and the court jester is putting on a show.” Attached was a photo. Chloe, her body pliant and soft, was pressed up against Adam, looking at a report with him. I thanked my friend and went to the lab. Chloe was there, wearing shorts so tiny they were completely hidden by her lab coat, leaving her long, pale legs exposed. She was sitting on Adam’s desk, facing him, chatting. I don’t know what was said, but they both burst into laughter. The moment she saw me, her face fell. She hopped off the desk, her calf brushing against his thigh as she did. “Your girlfriend’s here to check up on you. A guy as great as you, she probably wants to keep you on a leash 24/7. I guess it just goes to show, a woman really needs a career. Otherwise, her whole world just revolves around her man.” Then, she looked at me, her smile sickly sweet. “Oh, I’m not talking about you, Jenna. Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s just an observation.” I clenched my fists but ignored her. Adam looked up, surprised. “What are you doing here?” I had no intention of outing my friend. “I came to pick you up from work,” I said coolly. Before Adam could respond, Chloe let out a sharp, mocking laugh. When we both looked at her, she covered her mouth. “Oh, sorry. It just struck me as funny. It’s the first time I’ve seen it in real life… a woman who can’t bear to be away from her man for a single second. It’s… quaint.” A few of the male grad students chuckled along with her. Someone said, “Hey, that’s a good thing. A clingy girlfriend means a strong relationship.” Chloe secretly rolled her eyes, making sure no one saw. She then said, her voice full of meaning, “Jenna, it’s not too late. You should probably head home by yourself.” I frowned. “Why do you care if I go home or not?” Chloe pouted. “I’m just trying to be nice. I helped Adam out with something a while back, and he promised to treat me to dinner tonight. Just the two of us. Right, Adam?” She emphasized the words “just the two of us.” I looked at Adam. He didn’t seem to think anything of it. “You’re always so hostile towards Chloe, so I just didn’t tell you.” “Alright, alright,” Chloe said, tilting her chin up. “You should head home. A woman who only stays at home should focus on housework. If you meddle in other things too much, you’ll just become annoying.” “Right, Adam?” She shot him a playful smile. Adam smiled back, a silent affirmation of her words. 3 The other grad students, sensing the tension, started trying to diffuse the situation, insisting on tagging along for the free dinner. Chloe’s face darkened, but she didn’t refuse. In the days that followed, she became even more brazen. When I brought Adam lunch, she’d open the container and start picking at the food. “The flavor is so bland. No taste at all. If you’re going to be a stay-at-home wife, you’d better work on your cooking skills. Otherwise, you won’t have any skills to speak of.” I snatched the lunchbox from her hands, but Adam took it from me and handed it back to her. “Let her have some. Chloe doesn’t eat much anyway. She doesn’t mean any harm; she’s just giving you constructive criticism.” Before leaving, I used a sanitizing wipe to clean Adam’s desk. Chloe pursed her lips. “This is a laboratory. We have very strict hygiene standards, much cleaner than whatever product is in that wipe of yours. Are you implying one of us is dirty?” Her words hung in the air. The other students, who had been awkwardly navigating our bizarre dynamic, now looked at me with unfriendly eyes. I’d rarely encountered such blatant malice in my twenty-odd years of life. For a moment, I didn’t know how to react. I looked to Adam for help. He glanced up at us and said flatly, “That’s just how Jenna is. Always making a fuss over nothing.” Chloe giggled. “Oh, it’s fine. She just needs more practice. See? Her cooking has already improved so much lately. It just goes to show, you have to be open to other people’s opinions.” Adam nodded in agreement. In that instant, a chill ran from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. I brought Adam lunch every day because he had a sensitive stomach and needed a carefully managed diet of light, soft foods. I carried sanitizing wipes because he’d always been more particular about cleanliness than other boys. Although I often brought homemade cookies and snacks for everyone, he was the only one in the lab who got a personally delivered meal every day. To avoid troubling anyone, I always cleaned up everything before I left, including tidying the office. But now, in his mouth, all of that was just me “making a fuss over nothing.” My face hardened. I turned to leave. Chloe suddenly called out, “Jenna! Remember to make tempura with ketchup tomorrow. I won’t eat anything else.” I spun around in disbelief. “Are you ordering food from me?” She giggled. “What’s the big deal? The last few days, Adam told you what I wanted to eat, and you made it all, didn’t you?” I looked at Adam. It was true, he had started requesting specific dishes lately, which was unusual. He’d never said who they were for. I just thought his appetite was finally improving. Adam just gave me a slight nod. “You’re cooking anyway, so I didn’t see the point in telling you.” “Since Chloe has spoken, just make tempura tomorrow.” “Oh, and one more thing,” Chloe said, waving a hand in front of her nose. “Don’t wear makeup tomorrow. The smell is overpowering. Don’t you know we can’t have strong scents in the lab?” I walked towards them. Adam’s face was blank. He clearly didn’t think anything Chloe was saying was insulting to me. At that thought, I felt something snap inside my chest. A button, suddenly undone. It was my obsession with Adam. My lifelong affection for him. I pulled a large bottle of makeup remover from my bag, twisted the cap off, and violently splashed its contents onto Chloe’s face. “AH!” she shrieked, stumbling backward. The remover dripped from her hair, her makeup streaking into a grotesque mess of red and black. I sneered. “Don’t you know you can’t have foreign substances in the lab? False eyelashes, double-eyelid tape, eyeshadow, eyeliner… you’ve got more products on your face than a beauty blogger.” The other students rushed to separate us. “What’s the big deal? Calm down, calm down.” “Don’t get the professor involved! Adam, you have a girlfriend, you need to be more mindful of your boundaries!” But Adam didn’t hear them. He took a step forward and slapped the bottle out of my hand. “Jenna. Apologize.” I stared at him, my eyes burning red, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “She insults me, you agree with her. I stand up for myself, and you tell me to apologize?” “What, is she your girlfriend now?” Adam’s face was cold. “Stop changing the subject like a child. When you do something wrong, you apologize!” “In your dreams!” The words had barely left my mouth when a sharp slap landed on my cheek. The others didn’t even have time to intervene. SLAP— My head snapped to the side. I saw Chloe, her makeup ruined but a triumphant, pitying smile on her face. I lifted my head and looked at the man I had grown up with. “Adam,” I said softly. “We’re done.”

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