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Determined to stop the bullying, she vowed to make her family pay. Her disabled fiancé proposed a marriage alliance to help her fight back. What started as a deal turned into love--he adored her, and she discovered she was his savior all along! ===== "Janice, how vicious you could be! Do you even realize what you've done to your sister? " "I brought you back, gave you all you needed, and offered you a place to belong. Is this how you thank me? You're going to learn your lesson today!" Laurie Edwards snarled, her rage boiling over as the whip struck her daughter with a brutal, echoing crack. The sharp snap of the whip reverberated through the vast mansion, silencing the servants who stood as still as sculptures, not daring to utter a single word. Despite this, Janice Edwards remained stoic, her slight frame quivering as she clenched her teeth tightly, bearing the excruciating pain that seemed to rip through her skin. With Laurie's arm each swung, marking Janice's back with deep, crimson streaks, her face turning pale. Yet, her gaze remained steady, lit with a spark of resolve. Maybe she had become numb to such brutal punishments. "Now, apologize to Delilah." Panting from the exertion, Laurie stood with one hand resting on her hip, eyes blazing as she glared at Janice. "Why should I apologize when I've done nothing wrong?" Janice met Laurie's gaze, her voice firm, each word a defiance. Laurie's fury peaked as she saw Janice's unyielding stance. Gripping the whip tightly, she declared, "Then I will not stop until you apologize today." At that crucial moment, Delilah Edwards, Laurie's adopted daughter, clutched Laurie's arm, her eyes brimming with tears as she implored, "Mom! Please, no more hitting Janice. It's actually my fault--I never told her about my allergy to mango." "Delilah, your heart is too big. She nearly got you killed, yet here you are, defending her." Laurie sighed, patting Delilah's hand gently, warmth flooding her voice. "She's just malicious. In her desperate bid for attention, she gave you mango pudding, knowing well about your allergy. How utterly cruel, don't you think?" "But I swear, I didn't know!" Janice protested, tears welling up in her eyes as she faced the tight-knit pair before her. "I really didn't know about her allergy!" "Still making excuses?" Laurie snapped, landing another strike on Janice, her words icy and biting as the sting radiated across Janice's skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Ever since Janice had returned to her family, any dispute involving Delilah invariably ended with Janice taking the blame. No matter her arguments or the evidence she presented, it was always brushed aside as deceitful. When Delilah had a fall down the stairs, she had accused Janice of pushing her, and their parents had sided with Delilah without a second thought. Even though Janice was their flesh and blood, she seemed to hold a lesser place in their hearts than Delilah, the adopted one. In their eyes, perhaps she was nothing more than a schemer, always out to hurt Delilah to win some affection. Delilah cast a sympathetic look towards Janice. "Mom, I get where Janice is coming from. After all, I've take her place as your daughter for over a decade. If I were in her shoes, I'd probably feel bitter too. Perhaps if I leave, she'll finally feel at peace, and the family can mend." Her words, coated in a veneer of concern, were a clever ruse to cast Janice further into disfavor, and Laurie swallowed the bait wholeheartedly. Janice's heart sank deeper into despair, a silent tally of grievances against her family mounting with each passing moment. In an instant, a sharp whip snapped her back to the harsh present. She locked eyes with Laurie, whose gaze was frosty and filled with contempt. Laurie's voice cut through the air, icy and sharp. "Just look at Delilah, always so thoughtful and polite! If you were even half as considerate, I'd be over the moon. Yet here you are, denying your mistake, as if to piss me off on purpose." Janice stood her ground firmly. "I'll tell you once more, the pudding I handed her had no mango in it. If you doubt me, just check the grocery list!" "Why even bother to check? It's not like Delilah would deceive us about such things." Laurie, her faith in Delilah unshakable, saw no need to confirm the items listed for shopping. "Mom..." Delilah's voice trembled, her act delicately woven with vulnerability. "If it eases Janice's mind, then perhaps I did wrong her." "Delilah, please, don't cry. You don't deserve to suffer this way. I'll ensure that ungrateful girl is held accountable." Laurie's gaze hardened, her grip on her whip tightening, her authority palpable. "If you don't want to apologize, that's entirely up to you. In three days, Efrery will host its first fashion design contest. If you give your design draft to Delilah, I'll let this go." Again? Those icy words pierced Janice, sending a deep shiver through her being. Throughout the year, she had tirelessly given in, desperate for a sliver of her family's acknowledgment and praise. From the start, the bedroom had been hers by right. But they coaxed Janice into surrendering it, saying Delilah had grown attached to its comforts. Even her rightful identity as the Edwards family's daughter had been obscured, all to safeguard Delilah's pride. The list of such sacrifices stretched endlessly. To stay with this family and gain their favor, Janice had given up more than she cared to admit. But now, Laurie was pushing her to give up her design draft for the fashion contest, her future hanging in the balance. "Say something," Laurie urged as Janice remained silent. "Have you lost your voice?" "Mom, please," Delilah interjected, gripping Laurie's arm, shaking her head. "Janice is competing too. What will she do if she hands over her draft to me? Though I feel confident about winning, I..." She paused, coughing weakly, her frame quivering as though she might faint. "I don't think my health allows it." "She caused you harm, it's only right she makes amends." Laurie locked eyes with Janice with a penetrating stare. "I'll ask you one last time--are you giving up the draft or not?" Janice's chest tightened as she took a deep, uneven breath. "Mom, aren't I your daughter too?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly. "You claim to be my daughter, but you disregard my wishes?" This overt display of favoritism broke Janice's heart completely. She closed her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll let her have the draft." A sly smile flickered across Delilah's face. While Janice was often too yielding, her design skills were top-notch. With Janice's draft in hand, clinching first place seemed all but guaranteed. "You do have a conscience after all," Laurie remarked, one eyebrow arched as she nonchalantly flung the whip aside and offered Delilah a warm smile. "With Janice's design draft, you can stop stressing about the competition. Just relax and enjoy the award when it comes." "Thanks, Mom," Delilah responded, her face lighting up with a joyful grin. Yet, shortly after, a timid look crossed her face as she glanced at Janice. "But won't Janice resent me for using her draft?" "Would she even dare?" Laurie's voice turned frosty as she fixed a stern gaze on Janice. "If she harbors any resentment, she'll find herself out on the streets. The Edwards family don't keep the ungrateful around, family or not." "What if Janice accuses me of stealing her design?" Delilah's voice was tinged with worry. "Then I will ensure that every bit of her involvement is obliterated, crediting you alone." Laurie's harsh words stunned Janice, her heart sinking deeper into despair with each moment. Had her year of endurance and compromise been in vain? "Huh!" Janice scoffed, a bitter laugh breaking through as the final remnants of her hopes disintegrated, leaving her utterly disillusioned with the family. Chapter 2 Fighting Back "What's so funny, Janice?" Laurie tilted her head in confusion. "I laugh at the absurdity of my own foolishness, how time and again I've surrendered, only to feed your boundless greed," Janice answered, her laughter tinged with a sharp, mocking edge. "Greed? Isn't it your duty, as an elder sister, to make concessions for Delilah?" Laurie's retort came wrapped in a veneer of self-righteousness, unaware that the spark of hope in Janice's eyes had long been extinguished. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Janice declared with determination, "I kept stepping back, hoping my sacrifices would kindle even a spark of affection from you. But my efforts were in vain, dismissed and trampled upon as if they were nothing but failures." Her voice rose, reverberating with force around the room. Janice rose from the floor, her posture now reflecting a mix of defiance and strength. "You promised me a life of opulence upon my return to the Edwards family. Yet, what have I received? Not even the courtesy of a decent meal. Tell me, beyond using and crushing me, have you ever acted with a shred of humanity?" With her hands clutching her chest, Janice continued, "I am your own daughter! Have you ever, even once, called me 'sweetie'?" Her laugh then broke through, hysterical yet filled with sorrow. Laurie frowned, her voice icy as she responded, "Isn't this all because you want to hear me call you 'sweetie'? Fine. Sweetie! Is that what you wanted?" With a sharp, almost manic laugh, Janice shook her head. "Mrs. Edwards, your pathetic attempt at fake love is almost entertaining." At that moment, her laughter ceased abruptly, her eyes turning cold and piercing. "I no longer crave your affection. As of today, I sever all bonds with the Edwards family." "This is outright rebellion!" Laurie exclaimed, her fury palpable as she grasped the whip again and lashed out at Janice. However, Janice intercepted the whip effortlessly, her expression steely and resolute. "Do you still want to hit me? Once, I was your daughter, and I tolerated a mother's discipline. But now, we share no bond. By what right do you raise your hand against me?" A sly smirk twisted Janice's lips, her previously gentle demeanor now replaced with a rebellious edge. She wrested the whip from Laurie, giving it a casual flick through the air. "You hit me just now. It seems only fair to return the favor." "What are you going to do?" Laurie staggered back, her expression one of shock as Janice turned from a docile victim into a figure of daunting courage. With a deafening snap, the whip struck Laurie's body, leaving a fiery sting in its wake. "How dare you hit me!" Laurie cried out in pain, her rage reaching a boiling point. "You won't get away with this!" "Janice, how could you hit Mom?" Delilah exclaimed in shock. Janice cast a chilling glance at Delilah, sending shivers down her spine. Delilah couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling, pondering the drastic change in Janice. "If you're so concerned about her, why don't you take the hit for her?" Janice snapped, her words cutting through the air. With that, the whip lashed out, striking Delilah sharply. "Ah!" Delilah shrieked as the lash connected, a wave of intense pain overwhelming her thoughts. She couldn't believe this. Janice must have lost her sanity to strike her. "Janice, stop this madness! I won't allow you to harm Delilah!" Laurie roared, rushing to encase Delilah in her arms, disregarding her own agony. But Janice was relentless, her whip mercilessly striking Laurie again and again. Laurie's cries of pain echoed through the room, her body quaking, her eyes rolling back as if she were about to pass out. Yet this agony was nothing compared to the suffering Janice had gone through for a year. She was holding back right now. Otherwise, Laurie would have already succumbed. "Janice, please, stop! You're killing Mom! It's all my fault. Hit me if you must, but please..." Delilah pleaded, her words cut off as Janice yanked her from Laurie's protective embrace. "Janice, let go of Delilah!" Despite her own suffering, Laurie was still worried about Delilah. What a "great" mother she was! "Aren't you allergic to mango?" Janice snorted, a sinister smile playing on her lips. "What the hell are you doing? You better let me go right now! Dad's going to be back any minute, and when he hears what you did to Mom, he'll rip you apart!" Delilah's heart thudded in her chest, her trembling hands frozen by her sides as she gaped at Janice in horror. "Then I'll make sure you're gone before he can lay a hand on me." Janice seized a mango pudding from the table and pressed it against Delilah's lips. Delilah twisted and writhed, but Janice's grip was like steel, leaving her choking as the pudding was thrust down her throat. "Stop, Janice! You'll kill her!" Laurie bellowed, her voice laced with terror. "Someone, please! Stop this madness!" Reacting to Laurie's cries, the servants quickly closed in on Janice. Without a moment's hesitation, Janice whipped out the lash, cracking it in the air with a sharp snap that struck a servant harshly. "Take one more step, and you're fucking dead!" she declared, her eyes glinting with a chilling resolve that froze the servants in their tracks. They exchanged looks of disbelief. Was this really the same girl who had always absorbed her suffering in silence? "Delilah, please, talk to me!" Laurie crawled towards her, tears streaming down her face. "Don't scare me like this!" "Mrs. Edwards, perhaps it's time you witnessed how your dear daughter handles her allergic reactions." She sneered and strode out of the room. This place no longer felt like a home. The servants gathered around, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion. They were unaccustomed to seeing such a bold display of defiance from Janice, who was usually so meek and accommodating. The memory of Janice beating Laurie and forcefully feeding Delilah mango pudding hung heavily in the air, a chilling reminder of the ordeal. Chapter 3 A Deal Janice stepped out from the Edwards family's mansion, her gaze drifting slowly over the silent, empty street. Despite the residual pain that clung to her, a peculiar lightness blossomed within her chest. Reflecting on her year with the Edwards family, she acknowledged the suffocating nature of her existence there. Driven by a deep-seated desire for family warmth, she had willingly shackled her own desires, hoping in vain for a sliver of their affection. Sadly, all she encountered was sheer apathy and relentless demands. Janice cast one final glance at the mansion, its walls exuding a haughty splendor, a silent testament to aristocratic pride. "Let's see how long your greatness lasts without me around," Janice muttered under her breath, turning her head away. As she took a step towards her new freedom, a voice unexpectedly halted her. "Miss Edwards, you truly are full of surprises." Janice spun around. Before her, guided by a bodyguard, was a man seated in a wheelchair. His features were arrestingly handsome--the sharp contours of his face striking, his presence effortlessly commanding the light around him despite his seated position. However, he was a man marked by a disability. This very disability had led Delilah to scorn him, compelling the Edwards family to bring Janice back to take Delilah's place in an arranged marriage to him. "Mr. Green, what exactly are you implying?" Janice's voice was sharp, her eyes narrowing with a palpable intensity that suggested imminent danger. Aiden Green, with a slight lift of his brow, regarded her with a curious expression. "I must admit, I'm taken aback. I didn't expect you, typically so docile, to reveal such a formidable side. It's quite unexpected." "Have you been watching me?" Janice's tone grew colder, her fists tightening subtly as she braced herself for any necessary confrontation. Unruffled, Aiden signaled with a subtle gesture for his bodyguards to hold their positions. "Considering you are my fiancee, I believe it's rather normal for me to take an interest in your affairs, wouldn't you agree?" "Yes," Janice conceded, softening her posture as she stepped closer to Aiden. "But are you truly prepared to accept me as your fiancee? I remember well your previous demeanor towards me--it was rather dismissive, even bordering on contemptuous." "That was in the past," Aiden replied, his voice halting as he locked eyes with Janice, whose gaze no longer bore traces of vulnerability. In that moment, he perceived a change in her, as if she was a completely different person. "I now believe you are indeed suited to stand beside me." Janice's smile danced in the evening breeze, her hair fluttering like silken threads. Her smile, though beautiful, carried a frosty undertone. "Mr. Green, let's cut to the chase. What are you really after?" Aiden raised his eyebrows, intrigued. The changes she had undergone were even more significant than he had imagined. "Let's make a deal," he suggested smoothly. "Alright, go on," Janice urged, her eyes locked on his with resolute poise. "You've severed ties with the Edwards family. Once Connor is back, he won't let this slide." Aiden's voice was low and captivating. "I'm in a position to shield you from their backlash and offer the support you need to chase your ambitions. You loathe them now, don't you? You're out for retribution, I guess?" Janice's eyes narrowed, a spark of recognition flickering within. Aiden had pierced right through her facade. The Edwards family had presumed that bringing her back was a charitable gesture. However, she would prove them wrong. She would show them how ignorant they were and what immense wealth and prosperity they had missed. "And what is it that you want?" she inquired, her voice steady. "Let's go register our marriage tomorrow." Aiden's words made Janice momentarily stunned, but then her lips curled into a smile. "Deal." Chapter 4 No Allergies? The Edwards family was now shrouded in an oppressive and somber air. With Connor Edwards, Laurie's husband, back, a palpable tension had settled in, stifling enough that the servants didn't dare to make a sound. Connor's fury was barely contained as he pounded his fist on the table, his voice a menacing growl. "Unbelievable! Hitting her mother was bad enough, but forcing Delilah to eat mango pudding too? Was Janice crazy?" Laurie urged, "Connor, you have to stand up for Delilah. We took Janice in, clothed her, fed her and provided shelter, yet look how she repays us. Such actions could tarnish our good name if word spreads." "She will return and apologize," Connor vowed, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. He turned to address the butler. "Where is Janice now? Get her back to me." "Aiden Green has taken her away." "What?" Connor was taken aback. "Aiden Green? What in the world is happening?" The butler shook his head, his own confusion evident. "Mr. Green's timing was suspicious. He only appeared after Janice's outburst. Maybe there's something going on between them." A cold realization dawned on Connor as he pieced the events together. Janice's boldness probably stemmed from her association with Aiden. "She thinks she's untouchable with Aiden in her corner. Does she think that worthless man's support allows her to act however she pleases?" At that moment, Bartley Carter, the family doctor, descended the staircase. Connor and Laurie, momentarily setting aside their brewing anger, turned to him with concern. "Bartley, how is Delilah doing right now?" "Miss Edwards merely had a scare, nothing of grave concern." "What? That doesn't make sense!" Laurie frowned, her face a mixture of shock and concern. "She ate an entire mango pudding." Bartley hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing in bewilderment. "What's so bad about eating a whole mango pudding?" "She has a mango allergy." "That's not the case. Miss Edwards has no such allergy." Stunned, Connor and Laurie exchanged bewildered looks. Delilah wasn't allergic to mango? Did Delilah really throw an unfounded accusation at Janice? "Bartley, are you absolutely certain about Delilah's lack of allergy?" Laurie pressed on, seeking confirmation once more. "Absolutely. If she were truly allergic, consuming such an amount would have necessitated an emergency hospital visit," Bartley affirmed with professional confidence. Recognizing Bartley's expertise and dedication, Connor and Laurie nodded in acceptance of his diagnosis. "Thank you, Bartley," Connor remarked gratefully. "I'll ensure the consultation fee is transferred to you later." Bartley acknowledged with a nod. "If there's nothing further, I shall take my leave now." Connor asked the butler to see Bartley out. Turning around, he found Laurie immersed in contemplation, her gaze distant and unfocused. "Could it be that Delilah faked her allergy just to set Janice up?" Shaking her head slightly, Laurie responded, "I'm just relieved Delilah isn't truly allergic to mango. By the way, now that Janice is with Aiden, what do you think we should do?" "Ha! As if Aiden was willing to protect her without our backing. She'll be crawling back soon enough, begging to be forgiven!" Connor predicted with a sneer. Laurie nodded in agreement. Janice had been cruel, but at the end of the day, she was nothing more than an ungrateful girl, not worth wasting another moment on. With these thoughts stirring in her mind, she ascended the stairs to Delilah's room. "Mrs. Edwards, you need to stand up for Delilah." As Laurie stepped through the doorway, a middle-aged woman dressed in a maid's uniform grasped her hand. It was Daryl Quimby, the devoted servant of the Edwards family. As soon as she saw Laurie, Daryl began to complain, "I've looked after Delilah since she was a child, treating her like my own daughter. To see her endure such pain cuts me deeply. Although Janice is your own flesh and blood, she is ungrateful. Despite all the love the Edwards family has showered upon her, she struck you and nearly took Delilah's life. It's utterly reprehensible." "Daryl, please, try to calm down. I assure you, I won't let this slide. Janice may be my own daughter, but I won't overlook her actions." "Delilah is incredibly fortunate to have such a loving mother." Laurie smiled. "I'm the one who's truly fortunate to have Delilah as my daughter." She moved deeper into the room and approached Delilah, who lay frailly in the bed. A pang of concern tightened her chest at this sight. "Delilah, my dear, how are you feeling?" "I'm feeling a lot better now, Mom. Bartley just confirmed that I'm not allergic to mango." Tears streamed down Delilah's face as she put on an act of guilt. "Mom, do you think I set Janice up?" Laurie shook her head. "No, sweetheart. I believe you, dear. This must have been a simple misunderstanding. Plus, it's a relief to hear you're not allergic to mango. I would have been really worried otherwise." A faint, wistful smile flickered across Delilah's face. "Mom, maybe it would be best if I left. Janice's sudden madness today scared me. She must hate me so much. If I'm gone, she'll probably be happier, and things might be more peaceful for the Edwards family." "Delilah, you have such a big heart." Laurie sighed, feeling sorry for Delilah. "Even after all this, you're thinking about Janice's feelings. If only she could see the goodness in you like I do. After today, I cannot see her as my daughter anymore." "Mom, Janice is a poor girl..." "Let's drop the subject," Laurie replied sharply, waving her hand with an air of finality. Her expression soured at the mention of Janice's name. "Focus on your rest. You know, the fashion design competition is in three days. When you clinch the first prize, I'll appoint you as the vice president of our company." "Mom, you're the best." Inside, however, Delilah's thoughts took a scornful turn. How delightfully gullible the Edwards family was, swayed by mere sweet nothings. Poor Janice had not only given her design to her but had also been ousted from the Edwards family. Delilah believed it wouldn't be long before she seized control of all that belonged to the Edwards family. The upcoming fashion design competition was no ordinary event. Hosted by Routique Fashion, a titan in the industry known for setting the global fashion trends, the event was a spectacle in its own right. Among the luminaries of the fashion world was JE, a name spoken with utmost reverence. Regarded as a visionary among her peers, JE's creations were deemed masterpieces, setting the standards for all aspiring designers. Yet, JE remained shrouded in mystery, never once stepping into the public eye. Rumors abounded, and some fanatics even dangled a million-dollar bounty for a real-life encounter with the elusive designer. The Edwards family had long been leading figures in the fashion world. Laurie, as a celebrated designer, held considerable sway over industry trends. Her role as a judge at the imminent competition only cemented their family's influential legacy. Chapter 5 Why Is She Here? At the designer competition venue, Delilah, adorned in a sumptuous ensemble, strolled through the hall, exuding confidence and vivacity. Her presence commanded the attention of many. Recognizing her potential victory, acquaintances swarmed around her, eager to ingratiate themselves. It was an open secret that Laurie, a towering figure in the world of fashion design, meant that the competition's grand prize was almost certainly destined for Delilah. Winning would not only affirm her talent but also secure her a prominent position within Edwards Group's fashion division. "Miss Edwards, you are absolutely radiant today! Surely, this exquisite outfit is your creation?" "Indeed, Miss Edwards' flair for design is a beautiful echo of her mother's legacy--truly captivating. Even her casual outfits set her apart. I have no doubt that her entry for today will leave us all spellbound." Delilah held her head high with an air of pride. She was looking forward to the jealous stares that would follow her anticipated triumph. "Thank you, I am deeply honored. My mother's mentorship has been invaluable." Nearby, Laurie listened with a smile, her heart swelling with pride. "It's your innate talent too, Delilah. Without it, even the finest mentorship would falter." "By the way, Mrs. Edwards, I heard your other daughter will also be in the competition. Why haven't we seen her yet?" someone asked. Laurie's demeanor hardened, and she replied sharply, "I have only one daughter, Delilah. Who are you referring to?" The crowd fell into a hushed silence. Although the true daughter of the Edwards family had not been publicly acknowledged, rumors had circulated. Laurie's feigned ignorance took everyone aback. Laurie's brow furrowed, her voice laced with contempt. "You must be mistaken. Are you talking about that girl who can't even sketch a simple design? She has no place here in this competition." The crowd exchanged looks, piecing together Laurie's harsh dismissal as a blatant denial of her own flesh and blood, favoring her adopted daughter as the heiress. However, they didn't care whom the title belonged to. They just needed to know who was cherished by the Edwards family. "I heard JE is supposed to make an appearance at today's event. Being a judge, you must have heard something about that, Mrs. Edwards?" "Wait, JE is going to be here?" Laurie's eyebrows shot up, her voice laced with surprise as she processed the unexpected news. The thought of JE attending ignited an excited thrill deep within her. Her design firm had hit a snag on a challenging project, but JE's presence could effortlessly draw in enthusiastic collaborators. "Mrs. Edwards, you didn't know?" Regaining her poise, Laurie answered with a gracious smile, "Well, I really shouldn't say." Her answer was tactful, skillfully masking her unawareness while implying that she was privy to secrets she couldn't divulge due to confidentiality constraints. "Mrs. Edwards, if there's ever a chance, we'd love for you to introduce us to JE!" "Of course," Laurie agreed amiably. Soon, a lively crowd gathered around Laurie, exchanging trivial niceties. They were all driven by the same ambition--to forge a connection with a luminary in the fashion design industry through Laurie. A wave of pride washed over Delilah. The more prominent Laurie became, the more she, as her daughter, would shine. If Janice happened to witness her reveling in this glowing admiration, adored like a queen, she'd absolutely be burning with envy, wouldn't she? Delilah's eyes suddenly snapped to a familiar silhouette. Was that Janice? What was she doing here? Had she come to submit another design for the competition? ...... What happens next? 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I signed a 14-page contract without reading the fine print. I should have read the fine print. The listing promised great pay for "working with exotic creatures." What it didn't say was that I wasn't hired to care for the monsters behind those seven doors I was hired to breed with one. On day four they strapped me to a table and the man who hired me pressed a needle to my stomach. "You agreed to all of it when you signed," he smiled. "And I need your womb." They've spent years collecting from every species in this building, preparing for the one part they couldn't manufacture. Me. Every girl before me died, broke, or vanished. The only one trying to keep me alive is the very monster I'm meant to survive. ——————————————————— Chapter 1 — Crystal's POV Position: [not specified]. Location: Saint-Barthélemy, on-site housing provided. Compensation: €4,500/month. Start date: immediate. Requirements: female, single, good health, experience with caregiving preferred. Good fertility. Nature of work: daily care and interaction with exotic creatures. Interested applicants reply to this address only. I'd found it buried in a local forum between an ad for a retired fisherman's boat and someone selling homemade coconut oil, and I'd screenshot it before it could disappear, the way things on that forum tended to do. I read it for the fourth time, and it didn't get any less suspicious. The waiting room was trying hard to impress. White leather chairs, a marble coffee table, and a massive aerial photograph of Saint-Barthélemy's coastline. I crossed and uncrossed my legs. Checked my phone, read the listing again. "Weird listing, right?" The woman two chairs over was watching me. Mid-thirties, tanned, the kind of sun-bleached hair that came from actually living near the ocean She nodded at my phone. "No company name, no job title. Just 'exotic creatures' and a salary that's too good to be real." "We might be considered crazy for coming here." "Honey, half the island applied. That money?" She whistled low. "I've got two kids and an ex who thinks child support is optional. I'd scrub dragon cages for that number." I almost laughed. But before I could open my mouth, the door at the end of the room opened, and a voice cut through. "Crystal Le Grand?" I put my phone away so fast I nearly dropped it. The woman who stepped through was the kind of beautiful that made you immediately aware of every flaw on your own face. Her badge was saying ‘Anaïs’. Tall, dark hair pulled into something effortlessly perfect, sharp cheekbones. She looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue. "That's me." I stood and extended my hand. "Nice to meet you. I love your shoes, are those…" "Follow me, please." Anaïs turned on those shoes I wasn't allowed to compliment and walked back through the door. I followed, hand still half-raised, smile dying on my face. She was the assistant to the facility's owner, and she had the interpersonal warmth of a tax audit. She led me to a small office, gestured to a chair, and opened a folder without looking at me once. "I see here you were previously married. Is that correct?" "Correct." I smiled tightly. ‘Best’ decision I never made. I was twenty-one and stupid and in love, and he had a smile that made me forget nobody had ever taken care of me without a price tag. "And your current relationship status?" "And your current relationship status?" "Single. Very, very single. The marriage was annulled, so technically I was never even married. Fun little legal detail." My now ex-husband vanished and left a stack of credit card statements with my name on them. Debts I didn't know existed, signatures I stupidly signed without looking. Now I understood why he'd been in such a rush to walk me down the aisle. Not in the name of love, but because he couldn’t wait to max out credit cards in his wife's name. Anaïs wrote something without looking up. The pen moved in short, precise strokes. Her nails were clean and unpolished, trimmed to exactly the same length. "Your credit history shows some irregularities. Can you explain?" "Student loans. You know how it is." I laughed. Anaïs didn't. Everything about this woman was controlled — posture, breathing, the way she held her face like a mask. Student loans my ass. I've got about four weeks of savings, a mountain of debt, and a disabled brother whose care I help pay for. "Menstrual cycle. Regular or irregular?" I blinked. "Regular, but that's kind of a…" "Clothing size?" "Eight. Sometimes ten if it's European sizing, which, honestly, always feels like a personal attack." "Professional experience?" "Nursing. Two years at Hôpital de Bruyn before I took a break." Before my fiancé convinced me to quit. "I'll take care of us, baby. You deserve better than nightshifts and bedpans." Turns out what he meant was he'd strip away every safety net I had, then vanish. "Do you have family or close contacts on the island? Anyone you speak with regularly?" "My mother, on the mainland. She takes care of my brother Lionel — he's disabled. I call her every few days, send money when I can. Here on the island? No one." Anaïs's pen stopped moving. She looked at me and something shifted across her features. Quick, controlled, barely there. Surprise and something sharper underneath it, almost like satisfaction. Then it vanished, and she was writing again. "Do you have family or close contacts on the island? Anyone you speak with regularly?" "My mother, on the mainland. She takes care of my brother Lionel. I call her every few days, send money when I can. Here on the island? No. Caleb was my whole social life, which, again, is a red flag. I'm seeing all the red flags now." Anaïs closed the folder, excused herself, and returned two minutes later with him. Albert Bernard, the owner of this company, walked into the room. Tall, obscenely handsome, the kind of man whose jaw looked sculpted rather than grown. He shook my hand with both of his and smiled like we were already old friends. "Crystal! Anaïs tells me you're perfect." "She… Really? She didn't seem…" "Wonderful! Tell me about your sex life." I choked on nothing. "My what?" "Your sex life. Active, dormant, somewhere in between?" He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. "I ask because I want you to be comfortable. Some of the work here is intimate in nature: not sexual, but physical, close-contact, and I need to know your boundaries won't make you a liability." I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Albert tilted his head like a man watching a fish try to climb a tree. "I'll go first, since you look like you might swallow your own tongue. I'm bisexual, and the last person I was with told me I had the emotional availability of a desk lamp. Your turn." Surprisingly, It worked. Something about his absurd candor cracked the seal. I was still stiff when I found myself talking: "Dormant. Dead, actually. My ex killed any interest I had in men, and honestly, at this point the only physical contact I want is the kind where nobody asks how I'm feeling afterward." Albert listened with his chin on his fist and nodded like everything I said was fascinating. The contract was three pages. I should have read every word. I read the salary line, the housing clause, and the duration — twelve months, renewable — and I signed. Albert clapped his hands together. "Anaïs, transport! We leave now." “H-Hold on, what?” “Why wait? You’re gonna have so much fun there!” Anaïs stood, and as she passed Albert's chair, his hand swung out and slapped her across the ass — casual, proprietary, the sound sharp in the small room. She didn't flinch, didn't react at all. Just kept walking. I stared. My mouth opened, closed. Two attractive adults, I told myself. Clearly a thing between them. Who am I to judge? God knows I wouldn't mind someone who looked like either of them doing that to me. I tried to forget the look on the other candidates' faces when Albert enthusiastically told them to leave because the position was closed. Outside, a black SUV waited with the engine running. Anaïs took the wheel without a word; Albert held the rear door open for me with a little bow that was either gentlemanly or mocking, hard to tell with him. I climbed in, and the leather seats were cool against my thighs. Nobody spoke. Anaïs drove like she'd made this trip a hundred times, eyes fixed ahead, and Albert scrolled through his phone beside me. The drive took us to the island's far eastern edge, where the roads narrowed to dirt and the vegetation thickened until the ocean disappeared behind a wall of green. The facility sat at the end of a gravel path — low concrete, no signage, built like something designed not to be found. Inside, the air was cooler and carried a strange undercurrent, something organic and faintly mineral, like wet stone in a cave. Albert walked ahead, hands clasped behind his back like a tour guide. "Your schedule will be straightforward — feeding rounds three times a day, health checks once in the morning, and the rest of the time is yours to spend with the residents. Think of it as..." I was trying to listen, I really was, but then we passed a corridor junction and I saw the monitor. A security screen mounted high on the wall, showing a dark chamber in grainy night vision. Something massive was moving inside: too many limbs, too fluid, and a thick muscular appendage uncurling against the reinforced glass, ridged suckers pressing flat against the surface. My vision tilted. The corridor stretched and compressed, fluorescent lights bleeding into long white smears. My knees folded, and the last thing I registered before the dark swallowed everything was the cold of the concrete floor against my cheek. ——————————————————— What did she really sign? Read Monstrously Yours Now!

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"Too deep, Luca... I’m so full." Luca—my best friend, the boy I’d secretly loved for years—was having sex with my roommate on the other side of the wall. Ever since my parents died, he was my entire world, my only anchor. I even tore up my dream school’s acceptance letter just to stay by his side. And what did my devotion buy me? Nothing but degrading silence and ultimate humiliation. "Enough." I turned away from the door, walked across the hall, and knocked on the door of his worst rival—Julian Vance. West bridge’s hockey king opened it, his grey-blue eyes dragging down my soaked shirt. "Sure about this, sweetheart?" he murmured. I nodded, gripping my suitcase. The next second, the lock clicked—and he slammed me hard against the door. "Move in, and you play by my rules." In the darkness, his knee forced my thighs apart, his scorching breath burning my earlobe. "Tonight, you sleep in my bed." ………………………………………………………………………… Aria’s pov. The moans slipped through the wall, again. Luca, my best friend, my secret crush for years, was having sex with my roommate on the other side of the wall. The sounds were louder than usual tonight, a sharp, rhythmic thudding against the drywall that felt like it was happening inside my own head. It felt deliberate, like Serena wanted to make sure I heard every single gasp, every single second of her winning. It was a shitty way to end a twelve-hour double shift at the coffee shop. I lay on my bed, my eyes burning from the caffeine and the fluorescent lights I’d been under all day. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. Serena’s moans were reckless. I looked at the small, framed photo on the corner of my desk—my parents and my older brother, Anthony, smiling in the sun. They’ve been gone for five years now. The car accident that took them when I was fifteen shattered my entire world in a single afternoon. Luca was the only one who didn't let me drown in the silence of that empty house. He held me while I cried until I had no tears left. He stayed when everyone else eventually went back to their lives. He was my anchor, my only piece of home left in the world. That’s why I followed him here to Westbridge University. I gave up a full ride at my dream school just so I wouldn't have to face a single day without him nearby. What a massive, pathetic fool I was. Now I was just the scholarship girl working two jobs while he lived the life of a rich playboy. I’d watched him date dozens of girls over the years. I used to just sit back and wait for them to vanish, which they usually did after a month or two. I told myself they were just distractions, toys he used because he wasn't ready for something real. But Serena felt different. She didn't feel like a distraction, she felt like a permanent replacement. The noise from the next room spiked again, a loud moan that made my skin crawl with a mix of nausea and rage. The lack of sleep and the physical ache in my back from standing all day finally made something inside me snap. I pushed myself up from the bed so fast it felt like the world jolted with me. I stormed into the hallway of our suite and hammered my fist against Serena’s door with everything I had. "Keep it the fuck down, you two!" I yelled. My voice sounded raw, cracking under the weight of the frustration I’d been bottling up for weeks. "Some of us actually have to work for a living in the fucking morning!" The noise stopped instantly. It was replaced by a silence so heavy I could feel it pressing against my eardrums. I didn't wait for a response. I turned around, went back into my room, and shut my door hard enough to make the walls tremble. I fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to force my heart to stop racing. A few minutes later, there was a sharp, aggressive knock on my door. I thought it was Luca coming to apologize, but when I opened it, Serena was leaning against the frame. She wore one of Luca’s oversized t-shirts, looking like she’d stepped out of a magazine. She had a smirk on her face that made me want to slap the look right off her. "You're very grumpy tonight, Aria," She said, pushing past me into my room. "I'm tired, Serena. I just want to sleep. Get out," I said, my voice flat and exhausted. She leaned against my dresser, looking at me with this fake, sugary pity that made my stomach turn. "Is it really the noise that's bothering you? Or is it the person making me scream?" she asked. I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck, my face burning with a humiliation I couldn't hide. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. "Oh come on. I'm not blind. Just admit it. You’re in love with him," she said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Every time he touches me, you feel like you're dying inside, don't you?" she asked. I couldn't breathe. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I looked past her and saw Luca standing in the hallway. He was frozen there, his hair messy, his shirt unbuttoned. He had heard everything. He looked confused and deeply uncomfortable, like he was looking at a car wreck he didn't want to be involved in. He didn't defend me. He didn't tell her she was being cruel. He just stood there, avoiding my gaze, letting the silence confirm everything Serena said. "Get out," I told her. My voice was trembling now, and I hated myself for it. "Both of you. Get the fuck out of my room," I said. Serena let out a soft, mean laugh and walked back into the hall. Luca stayed for a second longer, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something, but he eventually just followed her back into her room. I locked the door and stayed awake for a while, too embarrassed to stop thinking, replaying the look on his face, everything I should have said, everything I didn’t. I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep. ★ The next morning was beyond awkward. I tried to stay in my room as long as possible, but I eventually had to go to the kitchen for coffee. I ran right into Luca. He looked perfectly fine, looking like he’d slept for ten hours, while I looked like a ghost. The eye bags were heavy under my eyes and my stare was probably enough to frighten the dead. "Hey, Ri," he said. He was acting like the fight last night didn't even happen. "My mom called today," he said, pouring himself some juice. "She wants to host a dinner for Serena this weekend. She wants to officially meet her," he continued. I felt a sharp, icy pain in my chest that made it hard to swallow. Luca had never brought a girl home to his parents before. Not once in all the years I’d known him. Only me. I was the only girl who had ever met his family, and I had secretly convinced myself it would stay that way until it was my turn for real. "That's nice," I said, keeping my voice as dead as I felt inside. "I want you to come with us," he said. He beamed at me, like he was doing me a favor. "It’ll be less awkward if you’re there you know. You can even study in the library at my house while we do the dinner," he added. He was serious. He really expected me to sit at his family’s table and watch him play house with the girl who had just destroyed me. He didn't care about my feelings. He didn't even care that Serena had humiliated me right in front of him. To him, I was just a fixture. A doll that came along for the ride. At that moment, I realized the truth. He was serious about her. And I was officially being replaced. "I can't go, Luca. I'm busy," I said. "Busy with what? You always come home with me on weekends," he argued. "Not anymore. I have plans," I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. I don’t owe you any explanation for how I choose to live my life. I walked away before he could say another word. I went back into my room and pulled up my banking app. I stared at the balance, calculating every penny from my scholarship and my shifts. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me a deposit on a tiny room somewhere else. I looked at the thin dorm walls and realized I couldn’t stay here another night. I was done being the backup friend. Tonight, I’m leaving. Chapter 2 Aria’s pov. I didn't even bother looking in the mirror before I walked out of my room. I knew I looked like a ghost, but I didn't care. I grabbed my phone and my work bag, checking to make sure I had my keys and nothing else. I was halfway to the front door when Serena stepped into the hallway, still wearing that same smug look from last night. "Leaving so soon? Luca hasn't even finished his breakfast yet," she said mockingly. Her voice was like a slow-acting poison, and I could feel it working its way under my skin. "Stay out of my way, Serena. For real," I said. I didn't wait for her to come up with some clever comeback. I just pushed past her and walked out of the dorm, stepping right into a miserable, gray downpour. The rain was freezing, soaking through my thin shirt in seconds, but it felt better than being inside that suite. I walked all the way to the coffee shop where I worked, my head spinning with every step. When I pushed through the door, the bell jingled loudly, and the warmth of the shop hit me like a physical wall. Mark, my manager, looked up from the register and let out a low whistle. "Aria? You’re not on the schedule until four. You look like a drowned rat, kid," he said. "I’m fine. Mark, do you have a minute? I really need to talk to you," I said. I was shivering so hard my teeth were practically chattering. "Sure, what's up? You look like you're about to have a breakdown," he said. "I have some major accommodation issues. I can't stay in my dorm anymore. Like, I need a new place today," I told him. I was trying to keep my voice down, but the shop was quiet and my voice was already shaky. "Do you know anyone with a spare room? Or a cheap studio? I have some savings, but I need it right now," I added. Mark rubbed his chin, looking concerned. "Today? That's a tall order, Aria. Most places near campus are booked solid this time of year. It's midterm season," he reminded me. I let out a frustrating sigh, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "But you can post on the school website. I bet someone there could help you out," he suggested. I shook my head immediately. "I can't. Everyone on that site is a shark, Mark. I'm a scholarship kid. They'll just use it to rip me apart," I said. "Why? You really need it, don't you? Desperate times, Aria," he pushed. I opened my mouth to deny him again, but the image of Serena and Luca together in that hallway stabbed my vision. I couldn't bear another second of that nightmare. I pulled out my phone and opened the school website, a place I usually avoided like the plague unless I wanted to see who they were bullying that week. I typed in the words quickly: "Hi. Having major accommodation issues. If you have a room I can rent please, my DM is open. Urgent." I almost shuddered in disgust as I hit the button. The text felt tacky and reeked of desperation, but I didn't have any other cards to play. The site let out a little beep, confirming it had been uploaded to the public feed. "Done," I said to Mark, who was peering over the counter at me. "Good. Now we just wait and—" The notification sound on my phone disrupted his words. I shifted my gaze to the screen and froze. Someone had replied. Not in my DMs. Publicly. "I have an apartment. Meet me at the cafeteria if you are interested," the comment read. I almost screamed in joy, but the stone-faced gaze from a customer nearby snapped me back to reality. "Someone replied! Already!" I shoved the phone toward Mark. "See? I told you," he said, smiling warmly. "Who is it? Can you tell?" I asked. I read the username out loud. "J. Vance." I’d never heard of the name, but then again, I didn't exactly hang out with the elite crowd at this school. I figured it was probably a girl named Jules or maybe a nerd who felt sorry for me. "So when are you meeting the mystery person?" Mark asked. "They didn't give me time, so I'm guessing they want to meet now. It's almost lunch," I said. I looked at the clock on the wall. 9:45 a.m. "Go get ready. You can't meet a potential roommate looking like you just crawled out of a lake," Mark said. I nodded and hurried back to the dorm. Luckily, it was empty. Luca and Serena must have finally left for their morning classes. I walked past Luca’s room, and the door was slightly ajar. The air coming from inside still smelled like sex and cheap alcohol, making my stomach churn with a fresh wave of nausea. I slammed the door shut and went to my own room to change. I threw on my normal baggy jeans and a clean top, tossing my damp hair into a quick ponytail. I checked my reflection once, adjusted my glasses, and ran back out the door. When I stepped into the school cafeteria, it felt like the entire world stopped turning. All eyes turned to me, and for once, it wasn't the usual look of boredom. I ignored them and searched for Table 7, the spot the user had mentioned in their DM follow-up. I caught it in the corner. Someone was already sitting there. From the broad shoulders and the dark, expensive-looking hair, it definitely wasn't a girl named Jules. Shit. I hoped he wasn't some kind of pervert. I shoved the thought aside and walked closer, letting out a little cough to get his attention. "Hi. I'm here about the apartment. You commented on my post," I started rambling. Then he straightened up and turned around. I stopped talking. I stopped breathing. The world actually seemed to stop. Because sitting in the chair was Julian Vance. He was wearing a black pea coat that probably cost more than my entire year's tuition. He was the hockey captain. Every girl at Westbridge had a crush on him. He looked successful and untouchable, like he lived in a completely different universe than me. His dark eyes, which I hadn't seen up close in over a decade, widened just slightly. "Aria?" he asked, his voice a low, rough velvet, laced with genuine surprise. I could only manage a slow nod. "Hi, Julian." "It's been... ages," he said, the surprise quickly masked by his usual guarded demeanor. "I heard you were on campus, but I haven't seen you since—since you were about knee-high. I left campus with my father's company shortly after, remember?" "I do," I mumbled. "You... you were gone for a long time." "For a while, yeah. But I'm back now, obviously," he said, a ghost of a smile touching the corner of his lips. He leaned back in his seat, suddenly serious. "So, the apartment. I saw your post. What's going on? Are you okay?" "I am," I lied, too quickly. "Just accommodation issues. A misunderstanding with my... current situation." He nodded, his gaze unwavering, as if he knew exactly what I wasn't saying. "I have a place near the Heights. You can have the guest suite," he said. He wasn't even whispering. The whole cafeteria had gone dead silent. Every single jaw was hanging open in total shock. "Huh? You... you really mean it?" I whispered. "I-I thought you didn't even remember me." "I knew who you were, Ri," he said, using the old nickname. It felt like a punch to the gut. I almost forgot Luca and he came up with the nickname for me. "And yes, I mean it. I won't overcharge you, and I rarely use it anyway." He was talking, but my mind couldn't even process the words. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it out to me. Mindlessly, I took it. It was a phone number and an address. "Call me when you're ready to move," he said. He didn't wait for an answer. He just stood up and walked out like he owned every single inch of the floor he was walking on. I watched him disappear through the double doors, then looked back at the students. They were staring at me with a mix of envy, disgust, and pure, unadulterated hate. At that moment, I wanted the floor to open and swallow me. Chapter 3 Aria’s pov. I was hiding. I sat at the furthest corner table of the coffee shop, staring at the piece of paper Julian had given me in the cafeteria like it was a piece of radioactive waste. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing in my pocket. Notifications from the school website were blowing up, of course from other students, and I didn't even have to open them to know what they said. The lowly scholarship girl and the King of Hockey. What a headline. The gossip was spreading faster than a leak in a dam, and I was right at the center of it. I couldn't stop thinking about the look in Julian's eyes when he stood up and walked away. He didn't look like he was playing a prank. He looked like he was waiting for me to just say yes already. Everyone at Westbridge knew about the war between the Morettis and the Vances. It wasn't just a school rivalry, it was a blood feud between two massive companies that had been trying to bankrupt each other for some years now. Julian was the one everyone loved and cheered for, the quiet hero of the hockey team who had the whole campus wrapped around his finger. Luca was the opposite, the reckless playboy of the Moretti empire who spent more time flaunting his wealth than in a classroom. Growing up, I was always stuck in the middle of them. I remembered our kindergarten playground fights, back when we were kids—when they both swore I would be their bride. I thought it was all just a joke. We were only kids. Julian was the one who actually got his knuckles bloody fighting for me back then, standing his ground even when he was outnumbered. Luca would just use his charm to talk his way out of trouble, always smiling like the world owed him everything. I had always chosen to stay by Luca’s side, thinking his flashy charm was safer than whatever intense fire Julian had in his eyes. Even though I knew he was a reckless playboy, I couldn’t help but hope, just a little, that one day he would realize that I love him. What a massive mistake that turned out to be. "Aria! My God, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!" I jumped slightly as my best friend, Elena, slid into the chair across from me, her eyes wide with total shock. She slammed her phone down on the table, showing the school’s main forum page. Julian’s public reply to my post was the top-rated comment, with hundreds of likes and even more people losing their minds in the replies. "Aria, tell me right now why Julian Vance is offering you a luxury suite in the Heights," she demanded. I sighed and told her everything—the desperate need of an apartment, how I had to put up the notice on the site and then how he just handed me his number and walked out. I also told her about the dorm drama. From the whole sex charade to the dinner invite Luca gave me for Serena. Elena looked like she was having a heart attack right there in the middle of the shop. "You have to do it. You have to call him right now," she said. "I can't just move in with a guy I haven't seen in over a decade, Elena. We talked for two minutes and it was so intense. It's too much," I argued. "Aria, look at yourself. You're exhausted, you're hiding, and your 'best friend' is busy bringing another girl home to meet his parents," she said. She leaned across the table, her voice getting serious. "Julian is the golden boy here for a reason. He’s responsible and he’s quiet. If he’s opening his door for you publicly, he's basically protecting you from the fallout," she added. "He probably just wants to spite Luca," I muttered. "Who cares? It's your chance to finally stop being Luca's shadow. He’s never going to choose you, Aria," she said. That hit me harder than the rain outside. She was right. I thought about how Luca had cancelled our traditions lately. The movie nights he missed. The ten-year anniversary he forgot because Serena wanted a spa day. Even going shopping with her. I realized I wasn't his best friend anymore. It was just a habit he was trying to break. "I'm going back to the dorm," I said, standing up suddenly. "To sleep?" Elena asked. "No. To pack. I'm done being an inconvenience," I told her. I walked back to the dorms, my heart hammering a rhythm of pure defiance. I walked right through the front door, not caring who saw me. When I got to the common area, I saw them. Luca and Serena were tangled together on the couch, surrounded by shopping bags from places I couldn't even afford to look at. Luca looked up and frowned when he saw me standing there. "Oh, hey. I forgot we were supposed to grab dinner tonight," he said. He didn't even sound sorry. He sounded like I was an interruption. "I’m taking Serena to the Vanguard Gala tonight. Her dad invited us," he added. He looked at his watch, clearly wishing I would just go away. "It’s fine, Luca. I wasn't expecting you to remember anyway," I said. My voice didn't tremble. I felt weirdly cold, like the rain had finally frozen my heart shut. "Are you okay? You look... different," he said, squinting at me. "I'm great. Have fun at the gala," I said. I didn't wait for a response. I went straight to my room and pulled my suitcases out from under the bed. I shoved everything I owned into them—my clothes, my books, the photo of my parents. I left the stuff Luca had bought me over the years on the desk. The stuffed bear. The expensive necklace. I didn't want any of it anymore. I stood in the hallway with my bags, feeling Serena's smug gaze on my back. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number Julian had written down. "I'm ready," I said as soon as he picked up. "Does the offer still stand? Because I'm standing in the hallway with two suitcases and no plan B," I told him. There was a brief silence on the other end. "Hold on. Don't move," Julian said. He hung up, and I stood there in the silence of the dorm that used to be my home. Luca came out of his room, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, and stopped dead when he saw my bags. "What are you doing? Where are you going at this hour?" he asked. "Away from here," I said. "Aria, don't be dramatic. We can talk about this after the gala," he said, reaching for my arm. Dramatic. Right. Of course he'd call it that. Just then, a loud, heavy horn honked from the street below. I looked out the window and saw Julian's car idling at the curb, dark and imposing. "That's my ride," I said, pulling my arm away from him. "Is that Vance’s car? Aria, what the hell is going on? Did you really take his offer?" Luca shouted. I didn't give him an explanation. I didn't owe him a single word. I grabbed my suitcases and walked out the door, leaving him standing there in his expensive suit looking completely lost. I made it down to the curb just as Julian stepped out of the car. He didn't say anything as he took my bags and tossed them into the trunk. He opened the passenger door for me, his eyes searching mine for a second. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Drive," I said. He nodded, climbed in beside me, and just like that, we drove off. I resisted every urge to look back at the boy I'd spent half of my life yearning for. Chapter 4 Julian’s pov. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were turning white, but I kept my face like stone. Inside, I was screaming. I was actually, physically vibrating with the kind of high I haven't felt since I was what, ten years old? She was in my car. Aria Vale was sitting in my passenger seat, her scent of old coffee beans and rain filling up my space. I had waited three years for this exact moment. Most people think I transferred to Westbridge for the hockey program or the business prestige. And it made sense considering those were the excuses I gave my parents to let me come here. But still, that was far fetched, really. The only reason I transferred was because I saw a post on her Instagram three years ago about her getting a scholarship here. I spent my entire freshman year at a different school just watching her from a screen, waiting for the right time to move. I knew Luca was an idiot. I knew he would eventually choose someone shiny and loud like Serena because he has zero taste and even less heart. I was actually on her school profile when it happened. I had been scrolling through her old photos, just like I did every morning, when the notification popped up at the top of my screen. It was a public post on the housing board. "Major accommodation issues. If you have a room I can rent, DM me. Urgent." My heart nearly stopped. I didn't even think. I didn't breathe. I just typed out the reply as fast as my fingers could move. I knew it was public. I knew the whole school would see it. I wanted them to see it. I wanted every single person on this campus to know that if Aria Vale needed a place to go, she was coming to me. I came to this school and I played the role of the quiet, disciplined hockey captain. I walked past her lecture halls every single day, just hoping to catch a glimpse of the back of her head. I knew her schedule better than she did. I knew what time she started her shifts at that shitty coffee shop. I even knew which library table was her favorite because I’d sit three rows back just to watch her study. Some would call it stalking, and yes, I'm not going to bother lying about it. But I was also protecting her. I’d seen the way people looked at her because she was a scholarship girl. I made sure those people knew that if they messed with her, they’d be dealing with Vance. But all that didn't matter anymore because now, all of my hard work had finally paid off. Even though I pretended not to know she was the one I was meeting at the cafeteria... she was here. She was finally here. I pulled into my garage and took a breath, trying to calm my racing heart before I looked at her. "We're here," I said. My voice sounded normal, which was a miracle considering I felt like I was losing my mind. She didn't say anything. She just got out and stood there with her two suitcases. I took them from her, wanting to burn them because they reminded me of the life she lived with that loser. We got up to the apartment and the elevator doors slid open. I gave her the tour, pointing out the kitchen and the living room and the balcony. I watched her face the whole time. It remained icily blank. Totally unfazed by the marble floors or the view that costs more than most people make in a lifetime. I’ve always loved that about her. She doesn't really care about things that aren't hers. She’s hardworking, beautiful, even though she isn’t financially buoyant. She’s herself and doesn’t try to impress anyone or keep up with the campus hot girls, as they call themselves. She has this pride that is so thick you could choke on it. It makes me want to break and bend her so badly, until she only relies on me. "This is your suite," I said, opening the door to the guest wing. She walked in and looked around, her expression still not changing. "Thank you, Julian," she said. Her voice was small, but it was steady. "I mean it. I appreciate you helping me out of that situation," she added. "It’s fine, Aria. I told you I had the space," I said. I was standing too close to her, and I could see the way her eyelashes were still damp from the rain. "I just want to be clear about something," she said, turning to face me. "There is nothing more to this situation. You're helping me, and I'm grateful," she said. She was drawing a line in the tiles, and I wanted to laugh. "I’m going to start paying you rent as soon as I can pick up extra shifts," she continued. "You don't need to worry about money here," I told her. "I do. Because I don't take charity," she snapped. She stepped back into her room and grabbed the handle of the door. "Goodnight, Julian," she said. Then she slammed the door right in my face. I stood there in the hallway for a long time, staring at the dark wood of the door. I bit back a smile until my cheeks actually hurt. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy. She could feel like she was doing the right thing by setting boundaries all she wanted. But she was already in my house. She was under my roof, eating my food, and sleeping in a bed I bought. She was mine now, even if she didn't know it yet. My phone started buzzing in my pocket, ruining the moment. I pulled it out and saw my mother’s name on the screen. I sighed and swiped to answer. "Julian. Why am I hearing that you have a guest?" she asked. She didn't even say hello. My mother has people tailing me, and she’s never been subtle about it. "I have a roommate, Mother. It’s a big apartment and I was getting tired of being lonely," I said. I walked over to the window and looked out at the city lights. "Don't lie to me. I know who she is. She’s that girl. Moretti's friend. Come on, son. She's pathetic," my mother said. "Her name is Aria," I corrected her, my voice turning cold. "I don't care what her name is. She is a distraction. You have a reputation to maintain, and the Morettis would love to use this against us," she hissed. "Make sure she does not distract you from your goals, Julian. Or I will make sure she is removed from the equation," she warned. The threat made my blood turn to ice. "If you touch her, I will burn everything you’ve worked for to the ground. I swear it," I said. I didn't wait for her to respond before I hung up. I threw my phone onto the sofa and rubbed my face with my hands. The Vance family was a shark tank, and I had just brought a lamb into the middle of it. But I didn't care. I walked back toward my own bedroom, pausing outside her door one last time. I could hear the faint sound of her moving around inside. She was safe here. I had spent years watching her be treated like an afterthought by a guy who didn't deserve to breathe her air. Now, I was the one who got to see her wake up in the morning. I was the one who got to see her without the mask she wore for the rest of the world. I didn't have any plans on letting her go. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. I went into my room and lay down, staring at the ceiling and listening to the silence of the apartment. It didn't feel empty anymore. It felt full. I thought about the look on Luca’s face when I picked her up. He looked like he had just realized he lost his most valuable possession. He was right. He had lost her, and he was never getting her back. I’d make sure of that. I’d make sure she forgot his name within a month. I couldn't wait for tomorrow morning. I couldn't wait to see her sitting at my table. I was going to make her her favorite tea. I was going to make her the eggs she liked. I was going to show her what it felt like to actually be seen. I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face for the first time in years. Everything was finally going according to plan. Chapter 5 Aria’s pov. I didn't sleep well. Even though the bed in Julian’s guest suite felt like sleeping on a literal cloud, I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. The room was too quiet and the air felt too.... I don't know, expensive? I kept waiting for someone to knock on the door and tell me this was all a prank. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I felt like a zombie in a scholarship girl’s body. I brushed my hair and tried to look like I hadn't spent the night questioning every single life choice I’d made in the last decade. I walked into the kitchen and there he was. Julian was already dressed in a crisp black hoodie and joggers, looking like a professional athlete even before his morning coffee. He pushed a mug of Earl Grey toward me without saying a word. Two drops of honey. Exactly what I needed at that moment. I took a sip and felt the warmth hit my stomach, but it didn't stop the fluttering of nerves. "I have a ten a.m. lecture," I said, breaking the silence. "I know. I'm driving you," he said. He didn't even look up from his tablet. "Julian, you don't have to do this. I can take the bus. I don't want to make things weird," I told him. He finally looked at me, and his gray-blue eyes felt like they were pinning me to the chair. "The bus takes forty minutes. My car takes ten. You need the extra thirty minutes to study," he said pointedly. He wasn't suggesting it. He was stating it like it was a law of physics. Translation, I didn't have a say really. "Are you always this bossy?" I muttered into my tea. "Only when I'm right," he answered. I wanted to argue, but I was too tired to fight with a guy who was giving me a free place to stay. I grabbed my bag and followed him down to the garage. The car ride was silent, but it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was tense. I kept looking at his hands on the steering wheel, wondering why the hockey captain was being so careful with me. When we pulled onto the Westbridge campus, I felt the immediate urge to duck. Julian’s car was a dark, sleek shark in a sea of basic student vehicles. He didn't pull into the parking lot. He drove right up to the front of the main quad. The quad was packed with students grabbing breakfast between classes. "You're making a scene," I whispered, clutching my bag. "Let them look," Julian said. He actually got out of the car and walked around to open my door. I felt like I was walking onto a movie set where I didn't know the lines. "I'll be here at four. Don't be late," he said, his voice carrying just enough for the nearest group of girls to hear. I nodded, confused, and practically ran toward the library entrance. I could hear the whispers starting behind me like a wave. "Is that Aria Vale?" "Since when does Vance let people in his car?" I kept my head down, staring at the pavement until I saw a pair of familiar sneakers. I looked up and my heart stopped. It was Luca. He was standing near the fountain, looking like he hadn't slept either. His tuxedo from last night was gone, replaced by a rumpled hoodie, and his hair was a mess. "Aria," he said, stepping into my path. I tried to walk around him, but he moved to block me. "We need to talk," he said. "I have class, Luca. And I think we said everything last night," I told him. I felt incredibly uncomfortable. People were stopping to watch us. "What were you doing in Julian Vance's car?" he asked. His voice was loud, full of that jealous edge that didn't make sense since he had Serena. "He's my roommate. I told you I was moving," I said. “And I owe you no explanation for what I choose to do with my life.” "Roommate? Aria, are you insane? Do you even know who that guy is?" he shouted. He reached out to grab my wrist, but I stepped back before he could touch me. "I know he's the guy who didn't spend the morning making me listen to him have sex with my roommate," I snapped. A few people nearby gasped, and I saw Luca’s face go pale. "Ri, it’s not like that. I was just... I was distracted," he stammered. "First off, don't call me that. It's Aria to you. And second, you’ve been distracted for ten years, Luca. I'm done waiting for you to look at me," I said. The discomfort was like one helluva huge physical weight now, making me want to crawl into a hole. But I wasn't going to back down from this easily. He needed to know what's on my mind. He needed to know that he fucked up real bad. "Does he know?" Luca asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Does he know what?" "Does he know you've been in love with me since we were kids? Or are you just using him to make me jealous?" he sneered. I felt a slap of pure humiliation hit me. Of course he knew. He had always known how I felt, and he’d just let me sit there in the shadows like I was a bloody waiter while he dated everyone else. "He knows I'm a roommate who pays her rent," I lied, my voice cold. "And even if I was using him, at least he's worth the effort. Unlike you," I added. Luca looked like I’d actually punched him in the gut. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then he looked over my shoulder and froze. I turned around and saw Julian’s car hadn't moved. Julian was leaning against the driver's side door, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't doing anything. He was just watching. But the way he was looking at Luca was so intense, so dark, that it felt like the temperature in the quad dropped ten degrees. "Leave her the hell alone, Luca," Julian said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise of the quad perfectly. I didn’t know what this was all about between them, but I wouldn’t be the reason they caused a scene here. I looked back at Luca one last time. He looked small. He looked like a boy trying to play a man’s game. "Stay away from me, Luca. I'm being serious as fuck this time," I said. I walked away, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst through my ribs. "Fuck!" I heard Luca cuss behind me. For a minute, it actually sounded like he felt mad at himself for letting me go. But then again, you can't wipe a leopard's skin spotless. He was never going to change and that was the truth. Chapter 6 ARIA’S POV Avoidance should be an Olympic sport. If it were, I’d have gold by noon. I left my last lecture five minutes early, slipped out through the side stairwell instead of the main hall, and took the long route behind the science building just to avoid the quad. Every corner I turned felt like a potential ambush. Whispers followed me anyway. They didn’t need to see me to talk about me. I kept walking. Head down. AirPods in. Music off. The parking lot came into view, and I exhaled slowly. If I could just make it to the curb where Julian said he’d pick me up, I could survive the day. Then I heard my name. “Aria!” Of course. I didn’t turn around. “Aria, please.” The word please made me pause despite myself. Stupid heart. Stupid history. I turned slowly. Luca looked wrecked. Not the artfully messy, campus golden boy version of wrecked. Actually wrecked. Dark circles under his eyes. Jaw tight. Shoulders slumped like something inside him had finally cracked. He walked toward me carefully, like I was a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. “Can we just talk? Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.” “You’ve had ten years,” I replied evenly. He flinched. “I know. I know I screwed up. I was selfish. I thought—you were always there, Aria. You were solid. I didn’t think I had to fight for you.” “That’s the problem,” I said quietly. “You never did.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of me. “Last night was a mistake.” I stared at him. “You didn’t seem confused,” I said. His jaw flexed. “Serena doesn’t mean anything.” The irony almost made me laugh. “But I do?” I asked. “Yes!” he burst out. “You always have.” I felt something inside me tremble and then harden. “Then why did I have to listen to you with her?” I asked. “Why did I have to sit there and pretend I wasn’t dying inside?” He swallowed hard. “I was distracted,” he repeated, desperate now. “The pressure, the team, my dad breathing down my neck about law school. I was just… not thinking straight.” “Ten years, Luca,” I said softly. “You’ve been ‘not thinking straight’ for ten years.” His expression shifted then. Less pleading. More calculating. “And now what?” he said. “You’re thinking straight? By moving in with Julian Vance?” There it was. He stepped closer. “Do you even know who that guy is? You think he’s helping you out of the goodness of his heart? Aria, Julian doesn’t do charity. He doesn’t breathe without a reason.” My stomach twisted. “He’s manipulative,” Luca continued. “Everything he does is strategic. You’re a move to him. A statement. He probably gets off on messing with me.” “That’s rich,” I muttered. “I’m serious,” he pressed. “He doesn’t care about you. He cares about control. You think it’s a coincidence he made a whole scene this morning? He wanted people to see.” My chest tightened. Because part of me knew that was true. Julian had wanted them to see. “But at least he didn’t humiliate me,” I shot back. Luca’s eyes darkened. “You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly. “He’s not safe.” “And you are?” I asked. Silence. Then, a low, familiar engine cut through the tension. Every nerve in my body snapped to attention. Julian’s car turned into the parking lot. Of course he was right on time. Like always. Students immediately slowed their steps. Heads turned. Phones subtly lifted. A small crowd was already forming near the edge of the lot. And Serena was there. Standing near the entrance with two of her sorority friends, arms crossed, expression thunderous. This was becoming a show. Luca noticed the car too. His posture stiffened. “See?” he muttered. “Right on cue.” The car rolled closer. Closer. I could feel it, the narrative forming in real time. Scholarship girl caught between two campus elites. Poor Aria. Indecisive Aria. Desperate Aria. No. Not today. I was done being the girl people felt sorry for. I stepped forward. “Aria, don’t,” Luca warned, reaching for my arm. But this time, I didn’t step back. I walked straight toward the car. Julian slowed, confusion flickering across his face for half a second before the mask slipped back into place. He stopped directly in front of me. The window rolled down. “You’re early,” he said calmly. Behind me, I heard Luca move. “Aria, this is stupid…” His fingers brushed my wrist. That was it. Something inside me snapped. I opened the passenger door. And instead of sliding in, I leaned across the console, grabbed Julian by the collar of his hoodie and kissed him. Gasps exploded around us. For half a second, Julian froze. Just long enough for me to register the shock in his body. Then, he moved. His hand came up, sliding into my hair, gripping, not painfully, but firmly. Possessively. He kissed me back. Not soft. Not hesitant. Deep. Demanding. Like he’d been waiting. The world tilted. My lungs forgot how to function. This was supposed to be strategic. A statement. A weapon. But Julian didn’t kiss like a man playing a game. He kissed like a man claiming something he already believed was his. His other hand slid to my waist, pulling me fully into the car, chest to chest across the center console. My knees hit the seat. My fingers tightened in his hoodie. Heat flooded through me so fast it made my head spin. The parking lot disappeared. The crowd disappeared. There was only the pressure of his mouth, the controlled hunger in the way he angled his head, the quiet, dangerous intensity vibrating beneath his restraint. I made a small, involuntary sound against his lips. That seemed to snap him back. He pulled away slowly. Too slowly. His gray-blue eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them. Not confused. Not amused. Possessive. His thumb brushed once against my jaw before he released me. The silence in the parking lot was deafening. Julian looked past me. Straight at Luca. His expression shifted into something lethal. He stepped out of the car, closing the distance with unhurried confidence. Luca stood his ground, but I saw it, the hesitation. Julian stopped just close enough to make the message clear. “The lady said to leave her alone,” he said evenly. Each word landed like a controlled detonation. “Leave. Her. Alone.” A beat. “Don’t make me force you to.” No shouting. No theatrics. Just certainty. Luca’s fists clenched. But he didn’t move. Julian held his gaze a second longer, then turned away like Luca wasn’t worth another second of oxygen. He walked back to the driver’s seat. Got in. And without another word, he drove off. Fast. The campus blurred past the windows. My heart was still racing. My lips were still tingling. My brain was still trying to process what had just happened. I had kissed him to get back at Luca. That was the plan. But the way Julian had kissed me back? That hadn’t been part of it. Silence filled the car. Thick. Charged. After a full minute, he spoke. “Was that tactical,” he asked calmly, eyes on the road, “or should I start worrying about my self-control?” I swallowed. “I needed him to stop,” I said. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “He’ll stop,” Julian replied quietly. There was something in his tone that made my stomach flip again. Not relief. Not satisfaction. Promise. I turned to look at him. “Julian…” He glanced at me briefly. And for the first time since I’d met him, the mask was gone. What was underneath wasn’t indifference. It wasn't a strategy. It was something far more dangerous. “I don’t do things halfway, Aria,” he said softly. My pulse stuttered. And for the first time since I’d moved into his guest suite, I realized I might have just started something I wasn’t prepared to finish.

To exact revenge, she struck a deal with the cold, ruthless head of a powerful family. After their plan succeeded, he cornered her against a wall, his voice almost pitiful. "I helped you take down those people. Don't you think you owe me some time alone?" She froze, stunned. Had their alliance turned into something else? ===== "You've weathered countless storms over the years. Welcome home, Arabella." At the celebratory dinner, a young man in a perfectly tailored suit found himself unwilling to look away from Arabella Stanley. She possessed an otherworldly beauty, her sharp features sculpted with precision and wrapped in an aura of cool detachment. Her piercing eyes revealed nothing of her inner thoughts, and when she spoke, her voice carried the same arctic chill. "I'm leaving now." Joshua Willis, the young man, seized the moment without hesitation. "Allow me to drive you home." Arabella offered no resistance. The car glided through the night. The city lights blurred past as Joshua stole glances at her profile. "When do you plan to return to the company? Our empire continues to flourish." Their partnership had begun years ago through a chance project, and Joshua had witnessed Arabella's brilliance firsthand. He had persuaded her to join forces, and together they had forged a company that now dominated the entire industry. Arabella maintained her measured tone. "I'll decide when the time feels right. For now, I simply want to reach home." "Understood completely. You must be eager to reunite with Daisy. She's undoubtedly thriving. I've been directing all the premium projects to your aunt's husband throughout these years." Joshua's grin widened as he angled for recognition. Arabella and her twin sister Daisy Stanley had lost their parents at the tender age of six, and their aunt Meagan Tucker had stepped in to care for them both. Arabella acknowledged him with a subtle nod. "I appreciate that." Her delicate fingers found the cherry blossom pendant resting against her throat, clicking it open to reveal a treasured photograph of herself and Daisy. Arabella's expression remained stoic in the image, but Daisy's smile blazed with pure joy. Studying her sister's radiant face, Arabella felt an unfamiliar warmth soften her features. After their parents' tragic death, Arabella and Daisy had become each other's entire world. Daisy had always been their family's ray of sunshine, illuminating every room she entered. At twelve, Arabella had been handpicked by the government for a classified operation that consumed seven years of her life. Now that the mission had concluded, she could finally return to Daisy. She had forwarded nearly every government paycheck to her sister, ensuring Daisy lived in comfort and security. Joshua's eyes widened in amazement as he witnessed Arabella's smile. The legendary ice queen was actually smiling? His curiosity about Arabella's sister intensified dramatically. The car approached an upscale residential community, where each house boasted its own meticulously maintained garden. The vehicle glided to a stop in front of a house. This was the home Arabella's parents had bequeathed to them, now shared between Meagan and Daisy. The estate glowed with warm light, alive with the sound of cheerful laughter. Daisy seemed to be flourishing beautifully. With that thought in mind, Arabella preserved her gentle smile as she crossed into the front yard. A weathered doghouse sat in the corner of the property. Someone knelt beside it in the shadows. Through the dim evening light, Arabella couldn't distinguish the person's features, but she watched them scooping food directly from the bowl placed on the ground. Why would someone be eating beside the doghouse? Concern creased her brow as Arabella approached cautiously. The figure appeared startled and scrambled quickly into the doghouse. Arabella's bewilderment deepened. Then a soft, trembling voice drifted from within the shelter. "Please don't strike me again. I won't make any mistakes. I'll be so much more careful..." That voice belonged to Daisy. Arabella's heart shattered instantly. She lunged forward, pulling the figure from the doghouse. Even in the pale moonlight, she recognized her beloved sister immediately. Daisy stared back, her eyes swimming with disbelief. "You..." she breathed, as though she feared her mind was playing cruel tricks on her. "Daisy, is that truly you?" Arabella's voice trembled with disbelief. When Daisy nodded weakly, a glacial fury erupted within Arabella, her eyes igniting with volcanic rage. "Bella..." Daisy whispered, still trapped in shock. "You've actually come back?" The moment felt impossibly surreal to Daisy, like a vision conjured from desperate longing. Arabella, sensing something terribly wrong, reached out to touch Daisy's forehead. Her skin burned with fever. Before Arabella could process this discovery, Daisy crumpled into her arms like a broken doll. Arabella cradled her sister, whose body felt heartbreakingly frail and ice-cold despite the raging fever consuming her. Arabella's heart crystallized into something harder than diamond. The front door of the house suddenly burst open with violent force. "Daisy, you worthless creature! It's been several minutes, and you're still not finished eating? Get inside immediately and wash those dishes!" Meagan's voice sliced through the night air like a bl**e. Arabella pivoted slowly, her predatory gaze locking onto her target. Meagan had transformed dramatically over the years. Once haggard and perpetually exhausted, she now radiated wealth and privilege, adorned in an expensive designer coat and gleaming jewelry that caught the porch light, presenting herself as the very embodiment of refined elegance. Meagan's bl**d turned to ice under Arabella's lethal stare. "You... Arabella? When did you arrive?" "What have you done to her?" Arabella advanced with calculated steps, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. Meagan instinctively retreated, unsettled by the predatory intensity burning in Arabella's eyes. But she quickly rallied her confidence, reminding herself that Arabella was still just a young woman. She twisted her lips into a cruel sneer. "Daisy shattered a dish, so I administered appropriate punishment. You've been absent for years. Do you possess any understanding of how challenging life has been here? I never allowed her to starve or sleep without shelter. If you weren't my brother's daughters, I wouldn't have wasted my time with either of you." In one fluid motion, Arabella's hand shot out and seized Meagan by the throat, her expression transforming into something carved from arctic stone. Meagan ga**ed desperately, clawing at Arabella's iron grip. "Let... me... go..." "This is my house," Arabella declared, her voice carrying the finality of a death sentence, her eyes radiating lethal intent. "You forced Daisy to perform menial labor. You made her sleep in that doghouse like an animal. You possess remarkable audacity, Meagan." In the warm light streaming from the house, Arabella finally saw what Daisy had been consuming. It was the leftover food. Holding her sister, who felt as weightless as a dying bird and appeared ghostly pale and utterly drained, Arabella felt her heart shatter into countless pieces. Her precious sister had endured this nightmare! "Meagan," Arabella said, her voice saturated with deadly promise, "when you moved into our home, you swore a sacred oath that you would care for Daisy." Meagan bristled at Arabella's bold use of her first name, the disrespect cutting deep. But she shrank backward when she witnessed the murderous gleam dancing in Arabella's eyes. Arabella had always been fundamentally different from other children. She was cold and fearlessly bold. When Arabella had lived here, Meagan had performed the role of a dutiful aunt, though barely meeting even the lowest standards. But the moment Arabella departed, Meagan had seized absolute control, systematically crushing the gentle-spirited Daisy beneath her cruel authority. She had never imagined Arabella would return to witness her crimes. "I did take care of Daisy! She made a mistake, so I disciplined her accordingly. What's so terrible about that?" Meagan's words died in her throat as Arabella's grip tightened mercilessly, making her feel as though death itself was reaching for her soul. "Arabella?" The violent commotion finally drew the attention of the people inside. Meagan's husband and daughter noticed the deadly confrontation unfolding at their door. Through the wide open front door, Arabella observed them living luxuriously in a spacious and magnificently decorated villa, with a table overflowing with exquisite delicacies. The people inside wore expensive clothing that spoke of comfort and abundance. Meanwhile, Daisy had been sleeping in a doghouse, consuming leftovers. Arabella's eyes burned with unshed tears as the devastating truth crashed over her with overwhelming force. Chapter 2 Can You Check Who Made The Payment Khloe Tucker was fuming. "Let go of my mom, Arabella! Back then, she offered to take care of you and Daisy out of kindness. Is that how you repay her? You show up after disappearing for years, acting like you're some kind of hero? What, did you run off, get pr**nant, and have a kid or something? What a joke!" Khloe threw Arabella a nasty glare, but deep down, she actually hoped Arabella might stay. Having her back would mean more help around the house. But Arabella's eyes had already gone cold. Without saying a word, she entered the house and kicked the dining table hard. Dishes flew everywhere, crashing onto the floor and shattering into pieces. Before anyone could react, Arabella grabbed two vases and hurled them straight at Khloe and her father. They hit them squarely, and bl**d started trickling down their faces as they screamed in shock. Her voice was ice. "You've got one day. Get out of my house." Without waiting for a reply, she stormed out with Daisy in her arms. She flagged down the first taxi she saw and rushed her sister straight to a hospital. Back at the villa, chaos broke out. "Mom! That psycho actually attacked me!" Khloe sobbed, staring at the scratches on her face in the mirror. "What if I'm left with scars?" Meagan's fury boiled over. "She's gotten way too bold after all these years! If she shows her face again, she won't be so lucky. We're not nobodies anymore. We've joined hands with Norman Group. There's no way she can stand against us!" She gave Khloe a comforting pat. "Don't worry, honey. I'm taking you to a hospital right now." *** At the hospital, the doctor examined Daisy and frowned. "Her leg's been broken for a while, and she's covered in bruises. Some of her teeth are missing too. What kind of sister lets this happen?" Arabella's voice was low. "It's my fault." Her bangs fell over her eyes, hiding whatever she was feeling inside. The doctor, noticing how quiet she was, spoke gently. "I've done what I could for now. But if someone's been hurting you two, you need to report it. Keeping quiet won't fix anything." Arabella gave a small nod and moved to stand beside Daisy's hospital bed. Daisy, now nineteen, looked heartbreakingly fragile. Her thin frame looked like it couldn't support itself, and her wrists seemed more like twigs than limbs. Her short hair was uneven, dry, and choppy, like someone had taken scissors to it without a second thought. Arabella gently lifted the blanket, and her heart dropped. Daisy's skin told a horrifying story. Old whip marks crisscrossed her legs, and dark burn spots marred her arms. Each scar screamed of cruelty. Arabella's breath caught, and before she could stop them, tears rolled down her cheeks. "Bella..." Daisy's voice was barely a whisper. Arabella immediately reached for her hand. "I'm here," she said softly. "I... missed you," Daisy murmured, her voice hoarse. Arabella clutched her hand like a lifeline. "I missed you too. I thought if I worked hard, I could give you a better life. But I was wrong. I never should've left you alone. I swear, I'm not going anywhere again." The warmth in Arabella's voice seemed to melt Daisy's tension. Slowly, her expression softened. After making sure Daisy was settled, Arabella went to sort out the payment. "The charges have already been covered," the nurse said with a kind smile. Arabella blinked. "What? Who paid?" Joshua crossed her mind, but she quickly dismissed the thought. There was no way he knew about this yet. "Can you check who made the payment?" she asked. The nurse gave an apologetic shake of the head. "Sorry, that information's private. Maybe a family member helped out?" At the word family, Arabella's face turned to stone. She gave a short nod and walked off without another word. If someone had helped, she was going to find out who. Meanwhile, down the corridor, Meagan strolled beside her daughter, Khloe, who was fresh out of the emergency room with her face patched up. "I'm not letting Arabella walk away from this," Khloe snarled, bitterness burning in her voice. "Calm down," Meagan said sharply. "You'll reopen your stitches if you keep flaring up like this. Be more like your sister--grace under pressure." That seemed to cheer Khloe up. A smug smile tugged at her lips. "As long as my sister keeps shining, that's all that matters. She's the youngest dancer in the Griridge Troupe now. Daisy really thought she could outshine her? She was delusional. That broken leg was karma, if you ask me. And if my sister finds out how Arabella treated me--oh, she'll tear her apart." "She's got a big show coming up," Meagan reminded her. "Let's not distract her. One step at a time." She tapped Khloe's nose lightly, but then her expression stiffened as she spotted Arabella ahead. Khloe saw Arabella too, and just the sight of her brought back the sting of humiliation. Her rage boiled over. Without thinking, she grabbed her studded handbag and swung it with all her strength toward Arabella's back. Arabella's instincts kicked in. Just as she turned around, a tall man came into view. With quick reflexes and strong arms, he grabbed the bag mid-air by its strap, stopping it like it was nothing. The sudden pull made Khloe lose her balance, and with a startled scream, she fell to the floor. Chapter 3 Grab Your Things And Come With Me "Khloe!" Meagan hurried to her daughter's side, helping her up while shooting a vicious glare at the man who had shown up out of nowhere. "Who the h**l are you? Arabella's new guy or what?" The man didn't bother responding. His sharp eyes gave nothing away, cold and unreadable, like the still, deep sea that hid its danger. Then he began walking toward Meagan, each step loud and heavy on the hospital floor. Meagan instinctively took a step back. Her ch**t tightened, making it hard to breathe. Deep down, something told her this man wasn't just any stranger--he was trouble. Trying to mask her unease, she snapped, "Arabella, you'd better think twice before crossing us again. You and your sister were lucky we let you stay at all! If you ever want back in, come crawling, and maybe we'll consider it." Yanking Khloe's arm, Meagan stormed off. Arabella stood silently, watching them go. Let them stay? That house was legally Daisy's and hers. She glanced at the man and caught sight of a pi**ol, just for a second, before it disappeared beneath his jacket. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Who was this guy? He turned and looked directly at her. Arabella finally saw his face--handsome as h**l, rough around the edges, and those icy eyes didn't blink or soften for anyone. He gave off a vibe that screamed danger--Arabella had never felt anything like it. No surprise Meagan bolted--anyone with sense would have. "Arabella Stanley," he said. His tone was calm and low, but there was a chill in it that made her skin prickle. Arabella glanced him over. "You're the one who paid for my sister, right?" He gave a faint nod. "You're quick. Grab your things and come with me." Arabella's brows drew together. "Excuse me?" Who even was this guy, showing up with mystery and attitude? Before things got tenser, another man stepped in--less intimidating but equally serious. "Miss Stanley, allow me to explain. This is Mr. Asher Gordon. His father and your dad served together in the military. Before his father passed away, he asked Mr. Gordon to watch over your family. Mr. Gordon only recently returned from service and has been trying to track you down since." That explained the military presence, the icy calm... the way he moved like someone trained for war. Arabella studied Asher again. He didn't seem threatening now, but just closed off, like someone with a wall too thick to climb over. She stayed calm. "You got anything to back that up? Anyone can say that." Asher reached into his pocket and pulled out a weathered photo. It showed two men in dusty uniforms--one was definitely her father. The other looked a lot like him. She stared at it for a long moment before replying, "I'll think about it." "Fair. Let's exchange numbers," Asher replied without any small talk. Arabella added his contact. His WhatsApp display was just a solid black box. Funny enough, hers was the same. A strange little coincidence, she thought. Then the assistant added her as well. "Dominick Powell, Mr. Gordon's right hand. Reach out if you need help with anything, anytime." Arabella gave a nod. "Got it." With that, the two men walked off, and Arabella made her way back to Daisy's room. Shortly after, two silent, suited bodyguards appeared at the door--they were clearly sent by Asher. Arabella didn't ask questions. She got to work helping Daisy clean up--changing her into fresh clothes and gently washing her hair, trying to fix its brittle, uneven mess. But when she saw the scars and ci**rette burns covering Daisy's body, her eyes welled up again. Holding back her tears, she carefully rubbed her homemade cream onto the wounds. Then, without wasting a second, she opened her laptop. She had to find out what had happened to Daisy while she was gone, so she hacked into the villa's security system. Sadly, what she saw made her sick to her stomach. It wasn't long after Arabella left that Daisy was thrown out of her own bedroom and made to sleep in a doghouse. The cheerful, lively sister Arabella remembered didn't smile anymore. She saw footage of Daisy juggling multiple part-time jobs, only to get ha**ssed and pushed around. Even so, she kept working hard and made it into one of the top universities. But during her very first semester, she ended up with a broken leg. She was studying dance, and just like that, the injury shattered everything she had dreamed of. The pieces fell into place too easily. Khloe's sister, Elissa Tucker, was in the same class. Arabella's gut told her that leg injury hadn't been some fluke. After that, Daisy barely left the house. She was treated like hired help, scrubbing floors, cooking meals, and still sleeping out in that d**n doghouse. Yet every time Daisy texted her, it was the same lie. "I'm doing fine. Don't worry about me. You just take care of yourself." Arabella's vision blurred. While her sister was being broken piece by piece, their aunt's family was thriving. Their business had taken off, thanks to a lucrative deal with the Vanguard Group. Khloe, a middle school dropout, was suddenly a digital influencer. Elissa was famous and popular in the college. Meagan was rubbing shoulders with high-society ladies, and her husband had become some corporate hotshot. Arabella clenched her jaw and slammed her fist against the table. She didn't even feel the sting. Every bit of success she had worked for... had only served to feed that vile family's greed. And the one person she had sworn to protect had suffered in silence the entire time. Chapter 4 This Revenge Is Mine To Carry Out Arabella took a slow breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and her eyes turned cold, like a fire had been snuffed out and replaced with ice. Her fingers gripped her phone tightly as she made a call. "That major project--it hasn't been handed over to the Tucker Group yet, right? Cancel it. Completely." Her voice was calm but firm. "And get to the Griridge Hospital. Now." On the other end, Joshua sounded startled. "Arabella? What's going on?" "You'll see when you get here. Bring a few things with you." True to form, Joshua didn't waste time. Less than half an hour later, he rushed into the hospital, and the moment his eyes landed on the girl in the hospital bed, he froze like a statue. She looked so much like Arabella--same face, but all color drained, bruised, battered, her body wrecked like it had been thrown away and forgotten. Joshua's fists clenched. "Who did this? Tell me who it was. I'll make them pay, I swear it!" That was the sister of a preeminent figure... and they treated her like this? Arabella didn't flinch. "I'll handle it myself. Slowly," she muttered, picking up a pair of sc**sors from the table. Before Joshua could react, the sc**sors had already cut through her long, silky hair. The strands dropped to the floor in silence. He stared, stunned. "Arabella... you're not actually..." "I am," she said. "This revenge is mine to carry out." Joshua swallowed hard, goosebumps rising on his arms. The way she said it--it was clear. H**l was coming for someone. Arabella glanced at him. "Also, what do you know about the Gordons?" "The Gordon family?" He immediately straightened. "They're legendary. Way beyond the top elite families. Super wealthy, but incredibly discreet. I've only ever worked with the right-hand man of their current CEO." "You mean Dominick Powell?" Arabella asked casually. Joshua's jaw dropped. "Wait, you know Dominick? Don't tell me... are you saying the Gordons were involved in what happened to Daisy?" Arabella gave him a blank stare before calmly explaining Asher's connection and what he had said earlier. Joshua slapped his thigh, clearly overwhelmed. "Asher Gordon? If it's really him, then yeah, no one's faking that. He leads the family. Rumor has it he's ex-special forces, quiet as a ghost, but deadly. If someone crosses him, they don't get a second chance." Arabella didn't react. She just stared at the floor, her thoughts turning in circles. Then she spoke, steady and cold. "You should head out now. Also... sell my villa." Joshua hesitated. "That place... that's your parents' home. Are you sure?" Arabella looked over at Daisy's fragile frame. "She was tortured in that house. There's no comfort left there. Just get rid of it." Her voice cracked slightly. "And if possible, find a buyer who's impossible to deal with." Joshua gave her a long look, then nodded. "Understood. I've got a bunch of properties lined up. If you ever need a place, it's yours." "Thanks." She didn't look up, and Joshua, sensing she needed space, quietly slipped out the door. Left alone, Arabella gently held Daisy's hand and murmured, "I swear, everyone who hurt you... I'll make them pay for it tenfold." That night felt endless, and sleep didn't come. The next morning, Arabella stood quietly outside a dance studio at Griridge University's dance department, listening through the open door. "Elissa, things have been so dull without that pathetic girl around," someone inside snickered. "I know, right? No one to fetch us coffee, no one to mess with. It's no fun without a punching bag," another chimed in. Peering through the glass window, Arabella spotted Elissa in the middle of the dance studio. Years ago, Elissa had been just a pale, skinny kid. Now she was dressed in a flowing white dance outfit, all elegance and grace, like something out of a dream. Surrounded by classmates, Elissa flashed a gentle, modest smile at the comments. "Guys, don't say that. Let's not be mean." "You're too kind, Elissa," Joyce Lambert, her good friend, scoffed. "That girl sponged off your family for years. If it were me, I'd have thrown her out of your house on day one." Arabella narrowed her eyes slightly. Calling it their house? Seriously? That place belonged to her and Daisy. Elissa and her family were the ones living off of them. Elissa tilted her head, her voice syrupy sweet. "She's my cousin, after all. Her parents passed away. If we didn't take her in, she would've had nowhere to go." Her fake compassion earned gasps of admiration from the crowd. What a generous soul, they all seemed to think. The loud chatter in the dance studio instantly stopped the moment Arabella walked in. "Daisy?" Joyce blinked in surprise. She stared at Arabella, stunned. She looked the same, but... something about her felt different now. Chapter 5 Got Yourself A Su**r Daddy The dance studio fell silent, as if someone had hit pause. Every single eye was locked on Arabella, but she acted like she didn't see a thing and confidently made her way to the back, where she began stretching like it was just another day. Joyce's jaw clenched. "Daisy, you've got some nerve showing up out of nowhere like this!" Joyce barked, marching over and swinging a sharp kick at her. "Just because we've gone easy on you doesn't mean you're not taking orders from us!" But Arabella moved with ease, dodging the kick without breaking a sweat. Joyce lost her balance and hit the floor face-first with a loud, painful thud. "You dodged me?" Joyce screeched in disbelief. Her face turned red with fury as she raised her hand to s**p Arabella. But just like before, Arabella slipped out of reach like a shadow. Joyce's swing caught nothing but air, and she stumbled forward, grabbing her lower back with a wince. "D**n it!" "My bad," Arabella said gently, her voice almost too soft to catch. Joyce wanted to explode, but something about Arabella's calmness made her hesitate. She didn't dare swing again. Instead, she snapped, "What are you just standing there for? Get over here and help us stretch already!" "So, Daisy's really back," she thought smugly. "Still the same pathetic errand girl." Arabella's gaze briefly darkened, but she gave a polite nod like an obedient student. She knelt beside Joyce and began helping her with leg stretches. Joyce smirked. "You look even sadder than before. Honestly, it's pathetic." But then, a painful scream cut through the air. Joyce's leg jolted, and she broke into a cold sweat, grabbing her thigh. "My leg... what the h**l? Did you snap my leg?" The class crowded around her in a frenzy. "Is she alright? Someone call for help!" "Look, the teacher just walked in!" Their panic was cut short as the teacher entered the room. Arabella still had Joyce's leg in her hands. Calmly, almost casually, she gave it a subtle twist. "Ah!" Joyce screamed even louder, nearly in tears from the pain. "What's going on in here?" The teacher frowned, scanning the chaos. "My leg! It feels broken... I can't--" Joyce wailed, then blinked in confusion. Just seconds later, she could move it again. "Wait... what?" "You look fine to me." The teacher shot a look at Joyce--one that wasn't exactly sympathetic. She had seen enough of these girls' antics over the years. "I don't care what drama you're cooking up on your own time, but today's important. The Griridge Troupe selection is happening. The dean and senior faculty will be here shortly, so I expect everyone to act like professionals." "I swear, I..." Joyce began, trying to protest. "That's enough." Elissa cut her off, stepping forward with an easy smile. "Let's not waste more time. Joyce, calm down." Elissa's tone made it clear--this wasn't the time to pick fights. Joyce had no choice but to bite her tongue and swallow her anger, though her glare at Arabella could have burned through steel. The teacher clapped her hands, and class began. During the last twenty minutes, a few other teachers showed up to observe. By the time class ended, the room was filled with a mix of nervous energy and excited chatter. "God, I really hope I get picked. Dancing alongside Elissa would be a dream come true." "Elissa, don't forget us when you're famous!" someone teased. Elissa gave her signature angelic smile. "Of course not. You're all my people." Then someone dropped a name that made the entire class go silent. "They say Isabella might be watching today." Gasps rippled through the room. Even Elissa blinked in shock, her breath catching. Isabella Wallace was the icon of modern dance. Her performances were legendary, her choreography unrivaled. Just being seen by her could open doors. "If Isabella notices me, that's it. That's my breakthrough," Elissa thought, her gaze sharpening with quiet ambition. But then someone spoke up, disrupting the mood. "I saw Daisy dancing earlier. Honestly, she wasn't bad at all." Joyce scoffed loud enough for the room to hear. "Daisy? Please. She's pathetic. No way she'd get picked." Turning her attention to Daisy, she said, "Hey, what are you still doing here, anyway? Go get our lunch. You remember our order, right?" Without a word, Arabella nodded and walked off, her tall frame moving with a silent elegance despite the slump in her shoulders. "Ugh. Even the way she walks is irritating. Does she actually think she's all graceful or something? What a complete eyesore!" Joyce sneered. By the time Joyce, Elissa, and the rest of their group showed up at the cafeteria, laughing and cracking jokes, Arabella already had their meals prepared. Her eyes quietly scanned each of them--calm, blank, giving nothing away. But in her mind, she was taking note of everything. Joyce, whose father ran the Lambert Group, was spoiled beyond belief and filthy rich. Next to her was Kenzie Marsh--the meek, glasses-wearing music student who practically worshipped the ground Elissa walked on. And behind them, the two guys were followers, plain and simple. They were all muscle without a mind. Joyce looked at the food Arabella had bought and narrowed her eyes. "Well, well. Where'd you get the cash, huh? Got yourself a su**r daddy? I thought you were broke, freeloader." Joyce kept running her mouth but still dove into the food--everyone was starving after dancing all morning. However, midway through eating, something went terribly wrong. Joyce coughed violently, bl**d trickling from her lips as she clutched her throat, her eyes wide in panic. The others followed suit, gasping, hands around their necks, as if something sharp was tearing through their throats. "It burns--what's happening?" they wh**zed, struggling to speak as pain ripped through them. Elissa stared at her in disbelief, still holding her throat. "Daisy... what did you do?" "That little bi**h's getting revenge!" Joyce screamed, losing it completely. "You think Elissa letting you tag along means we'll go easy on you? You're dead!" Furious, she flung her food tray at Arabella, while the two boys beside her instinctively lunged forward, ready to grab her without hesitation. Chapter 6 Do You Have Any Proof The students nearby were numb to this kind of chaos. "Alright, that's enough," Elissa said, her voice sounding gentle on the surface but hollow beneath it. She stayed comfortably seated, not bothering to step in--after all, she never did when things got ugly. Meanwhile, Arabella, calm and collected, didn't even flinch. When the tray came flying her way, she calmly reached up and caught it in one smooth motion. The momentum flipped the tray's course, and it slammed straight into one of the two boys' faces. The food, laced with slivers of glass, sliced across his skin, and bl**d trickled down his cheek in thin, terrifying lines. "S**t! That hurts!" he cried out. One look at the bl**d was enough, and he collapsed in panic, completely out cold. The other guy didn't back down. Snarling, he reached for Arabella's hair, yanking it hard. "You think you're tough, Daisy? Huh?" His fist flew toward her face, but Arabella caught it mid-swing like it was nothing. His expression froze. She slowly twisted his arm until his knees buckled. "Ahhh! It hurts--stop, please! I'm sorry!" he howled, his face turning as pale as chalk. The second she let go, he hit the floor and curled into himself, sobbing in pain. One of the girls considered helping, but after seeing Arabella in action, she backed off without a word. What a bunch of clowns. Arabella stared at them, her gaze sharp and cold, like she was looking at tr**h. "Have you lost your fu**ing mind?" Joyce screeched, still in denial. Her hands shook as she picked up a chair and hurled it with all her strength. Arabella shifted her weight, spun, and kicked the chair right back--slamming it into Joyce's head. Bl**d splattered instantly. Elissa jumped up in horror, shrieking, "Oh my God!" The cafeteria exploded with shouts. "She's gonna k**l someone! Go find a teacher!" "What is wrong with her? Is she high or something?" "Honestly, she's kind of a badass..." "Shh! Don't let anyone hear you say that!" Thirty minutes later, the university president's office was a pressure cooker. The fight was way too intense to sweep under the rug. Daisy, Elissa, and the rest of the group were hauled in for questioning. Joyce and the others had been bandaged up, but their egos were just as bruised. Elissa looked ready to cry, still rubbing her sore throat like it had swallowed fire. She was furious, terrified the damage was permanent. "Call your parents," the president ordered Arabella sharply, trying to make sense of the madness. "Now." Joyce jumped in before Arabella could speak. "She can't. Her parents are dead!" she sneered. "She's been mooching off Elissa's family for years. No morals. No manners. Just expel her already!" Taken aback, the president looked Arabella up and down. "So, what exactly happened?" Joyce didn't miss a beat. "She put glass in our food. She tried to hurt us and then went berserk. She needs to face consequences!" Arabella didn't even blink. Her voice came out calm and cold. "Do you have any proof? And while we're at it--did I even lay a finger on you first? Pretty sure your side started swinging." "Liar!" Joyce snapped, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. Arabella turned her gaze to the president, cool and steady. "Why don't we pull up the cafeteria security footage?" Silence dropped like a stone. Joyce's face stiffened, and her jaw clenched tight. "We only hit her because she gave us food full of glass! She deserved it!" Arabella tilted her head slightly. "Where's your proof that I put it there?" she asked softly. "Because I have proof of something else." She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. A video began to play. The footage was damning. It showed Joyce and her gang shoving a sandwich filled with glass into Daisy's mouth. As Daisy's lips b**d, they laughed like it was some sick joke. It was raw and unforgivable. Arabella's ch**t tightened as she watched it, the pain as fresh as the day she found it on Daisy's phone. Even the president's face shifted. He turned to Joyce and her friends with a sharp, icy glare. For a split second, panic flashed across their faces. Trying to smooth things over, Elissa quickly said, "Sir, yeah, Joyce went too far, and we're really sorry. But Daisy was talking tr**h first--Joyce just lost her temper." Arabella raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is that so? Well then, I'll just upload this little clip online and let the public decide who the real victim is." "Absolutely not!" the president barked. "Miss Stanley, if that video gets out, it'll drag the university through the mud. Let's not blow this out of proportion. Apologize to each other, and we'll call it even." Joyce looked outraged. "What? She beat the crap out of us! Why should we just let it go?" Her friends chimed in, just as outraged. Meanwhile, Elissa leaned toward the president and whispered with a sweet smile, "My dad's set to donate $1 million to the school. Just thought you should know." The president's expression shifted. His tone changed. "Daisy," he began, "what they did was wrong. But your response was excessive. This could've been handled differently. You can either apologize now and move forward, or you'll be expelled. And if you upload that video, trust me, public opinion won't be on your side. That would be reckless." Arabella stared at him. So that was what this was. Now she understood why Daisy had been stepped on for so long. These people weren't protecting students--they were protecting their pockets. Joyce, smelling victory, leaned back with a smug grin. "Daisy, you really thought you had the upper hand? You're nothing but a parasite clinging to Elissa's family like a leech. Don't act like you matter. You want to stay here? Then get on your knees and l**k my shoes clean. Maybe, just maybe, I'll let you off the hook." Joyce looked at Arabella like she wasn't even human. Elissa didn't say anything at first, but the fire burning behind her calm expression gave her away. Her throat still hurt, and what bothered her more was the embarrassment. Deep down, she wanted to lash out at Arabella. But on the outside, she just let out a quiet sigh, like she was more hurt than mad. "Daisy, I honestly don't know what happened to you," she said. "But if you can't apologize to us, then pack your things. You're no longer welcome in my home." The president didn't bat an eye. "That's enough. You're done here. Pack up and get out." He waved Arabella off like she was a fly in the room before turning to Elissa with a tight smile. "You're injured. Go rest. We'll take care of everything." Joyce smirked, finally feeling like the universe had balanced itself. With their heads held high, they all moved to strut out like they had won a prize. "Quite the scene," came a calm voice from the doorway, all eyes turned. Arabella raised an eyebrow. How was he here! ...... What happens next? 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I snuck into my rich fiancé's hotel room in the dark to surprise him. But when the lights flicked on, I realized the man in my arms was his powerful best friend. 👔🔥 They called me a gold digger, and I didn’t care. After months of playing the game, I’d finally hooked Shawn Taylor—a local businessman with a name that opened doors. I wanted his ring, his baby, and his bank account. So, I booked a flight to his business trip and showed up at his hotel suite ready to surprise him. The lights in the room were off. In the pitch black, I let my coat fall to the floor, wrapped myself around the tall, muscular shadow, and whispered: "Miss me, honey? Your girl's back." The chemistry was explosive. Things were about to get unforgettable when the door lock suddenly beeped. The lights flicked on. I looked up in pure horror. There was Shawn, walking through the front door. And the dark, dangerous man I had been all over? It wasn't my fiancé. It was Miles Gilmore—Shawn's billionaire best friend, and the one man who knew all my dirty secrets. 🔥 ------------------------------ It was nine-thirty at n1ght when Scarlett Lane keyed in the code and let herself in. The living room was pitch dark, and only the faint outline of a tall figure was visible against the shadows. The familiar scent of his body wash hung in the air. Scarlett dropped her bag, loosened the belt of her trench coat, and sauntered up to him, hips swaying. Her arms looped around his neck. One leg slid up to brush along his thigh. "Honey," she murmured, "your @ughty girl's home." He gave no answer. The shift in his breathing said everything. A Flîrty smile crept across her face. She caught his wrist, guided his hand inside her open coat, and walked him backward step by step. The moment she'd landed, she'd slipped into a changing room at the airport and thrown this outfit on, all to surprise her billionaire boyfriend. Right in the middle of that thought, his arm cinched tighter around her waist. Scarlett raised both arms and laced them behind his neck. "Carry me, honey." He scooped her up on cue. Her palm slid down and pressed flat against his abs. '@mn, it's been a while, and he's gotten even more cut,' Scarlett thought, biting back a grin. Her fingers traced the ridges, and she couldn't resist teasing him. "Honey, your abs keep getting harder every time. So hot." Behind her, the door lock chirped open, and the sound froze her in place. Half a second later, she snapped into motion. She slid down out of his arms and pulled her outfit back into place as fast as her hands could move. The front door swung open. The living room lights snapped on right after. Scarlett looked up. The man walking through the doorway was Shawn Taylor. Her brain stalled out. Her shoulders locked up. 'Shawn?' Scarlett thought. 'So the man I was wrapped around two seconds ago—' "What're you doing here?" Shawn looked her up and down. Scarlett snapped back into the moment. She walked straight up to him, threw her arms around him, and let her voice go soft. "I missed you, honey." Shawn gave a quiet laugh and patted her hair out of habit, the way someone might pet a kitten. Scarlett hooked her arm through his and stepped up beside him. That was when she got her first clear look at the man across the room. Of all Shawn's childhood friends, Miles Gilmore came from the most loaded background. Since landing Shawn, Scarlett had crossed paths with him exactly twice, but they'd never traded a word. Miles, like the rest of Shawn's circle, wrote her off as a gold-digging schemer. Just like now, their eyes met across the room, and he made no effort to mask the contempt in his. Shawn turned to him. "Miles, she didn't bother you, did she?" Scarlett's pulse climbed, but her smile held steady. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Gilmore." Miles sneered. His gaze raked over her once, slow and deliberate. "I figured some idiot with a death wish had ordered me a hooker." That wasn't a veiled jab. That was a direct hit. Scarlett played it like she hadn't caught a word, beaming like a clueless airhead. Shawn let out a laugh. "Sorry about her again. Let me get her out of your hair. You go do your thing." And just like that, Shawn hauled her off to the bedroom. ***** By midn1ght, Miles was propped against the wall outside the master bedroom, a glA$$ of water in one hand. The ghost of a smirk played at his mouth as he stared at the shut door. A woman's coaxing voice drifted out from inside. "Honey, hold me." A moment later, her giggling came through the door, breathless and broken. "Oh god, stop. Okay, you win." Miles let out a derisive snort. His eyes flicked down to his own crotch. Then his hand came up, and he hurled the glA$$ at the floor. The expensive crystal shattered into pieces across the tile with a sharp crack. The noise behind the bedroom door died at once. A minute later, a door down the hall opened and Shawn stepped out, shirtless. His eyes dropped to the broken glA$$ on the floor. "What happened? Hand okay?" Miles shook his head and dragged his gaze across Shawn's b@re torso. 'Different as n1ght and day, and she still couldn't tell. Heh. Asking to be F*cked,' he thought. ***** The racket Miles had caused cost Scarlett her Shót that n1ght. The next morning, the second her eyes opened, she put on a hurt face and burrowed into Shawn's ch3st. "Honey, you don't like me anymore?" "Don't be ridiculous." Shawn pinched her cheek. "Miles is moving out any day now. Once he's gone, we'll make up for it properly." Scarlett nodded sweetly. Shawn had work to handle. He humored her for a few minutes and then headed out the door. Scarlett rolled back under the covers for a second round of sleep. By the time she opened her eyes again, it was almost 10. The apartment had gone dead quiet. She pulled on one of Shawn's T-shirts as a n1ghtgown, hopped out of bed to brush her teeth, and padded into the dining room for breakfast. A couple of bites in, a video call from her best friend, Quinn Yates, lit up her phone. Scarlett tapped to pick up. "So how long you staying this time?" Quinn propped her phone against som3thing. Scarlett @bbed at her food. "Once my ovulation window closes, I'm out." Quinn dropped her voice. "Yesterday was your peak day, right? Did it actually happen?" A Cur$e slipped out of Scarlett. "Don't even get me started. Ugh, this svcks. "Nothing about this is easy money. If I weren't trying to milk a few more checks out of the Taylor family, you couldn't pay me to do this gig." Scarlett spent the next 20 minutes venting to Quinn over breakfast. Once she finished eating, she wandered into the guest bathroom for a long soak. Shawn's apartment had a top-end soaking tub with temperature control and mA$$age jets, and she'd loved it from the first n1ght. She closed her eyes, sank back against the curved rim, and let out a soft, contented hum. She rarely got to drop the act. Even rarer was a moment when she could actually let her guard down. Right in the middle of all that ease, the bathroom door clicked open without warning. A startled Scre@m tore out of her, and her eyes flew open. The moment she registered Miles stepping inside, both her arms Shót up to cover herself. 'Wait, didn't he leave?' Her pulse sp1k3d. She had nowhere to retreat. Miles closed the distance in a few strides and stopped at the edge of the bathtub. He grabbed both her arms and stared down at her. "What're you hiding for? You were plenty bold last n1ght." Scarlett almost laughed. Men loved to flip the script. They couldn't keep themselves in check, but somehow the woman always ended up at fault. 'What an A$$hole,' she thought. "How many times did you come for him last n1ght?" Miles's voice cut through the steam again. Scarlett drew in a slow breath and faced him with the picture of innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Gilmore." Meeting that look on her face, Miles felt his throat tighten. He leaned down close. "If you want to squeeze more cash out of the Taylors, you'll need to work a lot harder. Your sugar daddy's not so easy to satisfy anymore." Scarlett's mouth went stiff. 'Sh1t. What had he heard?' Before she could chase the thought any further, Miles let go of her arms and dragged a finger along her collarbone. "How about I train you myself?" His gaze stripped her right through the water. Scarlett forced a smile and parted her lips to refuse, but Miles raised his other hand, a phone in his grip. His thumb moved across the screen, and a recording started to play. It was her video chat from the dining room earlier. Miles let a short clip run before tapping it off. He patted her cheek. "Think the Taylors will keep paying you once they hear you talk about them like that?" Scarlett said nothing. Miles tossed the phone aside and beckoned her with a tilt of his chin. "Get over here. Strip." .............................................................................. Scarlett didn't move. She couldn't figure out what Miles was playing at. If she'd left him hot and bothered last n1ght, he had plenty of other options. Women lined up for men like him. 'So why me? He's never hidden his contempt for me,' Scarlett frowned. Scarlett still remembered their first meeting at some party. Miles had looked at her like she was som3thing foul he'd accidentally stepped in. When she still didn't move, Miles let out a mocking laugh. "What's with the show?" Scarlett blinked. 'This A$$hole stole my line.' She'd been about to ask him the same thing. "Thanks for the interest, Mr. Gilmore." Scarlett kept the fake smile in place. "But I'm already taken, so maybe you should..." "You're not even close to having him locked down." Miles's contempt didn't budge. Scarlett's fists clenched. The smile stayed. "Even if you did get him to marry you, so what?" Miles gripped the back of her neck. "You think I'm scared of him?" 'Of course you're not,' Scarlett finished in her head on reflex. "If I told him right now I wanted to F*ck you," Miles continued, "you really think he'd risk the friendship to protect you? Or just gift-wrap you and hand you over?" Scarlett didn't have to think about the answer. She pulled in a deep breath and let it go. 'If you can't fight it, lie back and enjoy it,' she thought. Still, she had her conditions. "How much?" If he wanted to sleep with her, he was paying for it. Plus, she had one more concern before this went any further. Her eyes dropped to his crotch. "You clean?" Miles lost his words for a be@t. He let out a sharp laugh when it registered. "That's cute. I'm supposed to be the one with standards here. Not you." Scarlett's mouth Shót off before her brain could stop it. "Standards, my A$$. Your D1ck was saluting me just fine last n1ght. F*cking hypocrite." Miles's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?" Only then did Scarlett realize she'd run her mouth. Denying it was pointless. She doubled down. "Am I wrong though?" Her gaze traveled slowly down his body. "You men really do say one thing and do another, don't you." Miles caught every ounce of meaning in that look. He gritted his teeth. "You little—" Scarlett didn't let him finish the Cur$e. She held up a closed fist between them. "This much. Deal?" ***** ***** Around an hour later, Miles got out of the bathtub and crossed over to the shower across the room. Miles watched Scarlett, b@rely conscious in the water, and the irritation that had clung to him all n1ght finally started to ease. Then he stared at her a few seconds too long, and the irritation came right back. Miles turned the water colder, looked away, and let the spray pound against him. The steady drum of the water pulled Scarlett back to herself. Her vision sharpened again, and she caught sight of Miles standing under the showerhead. One glance, and she couldn't look away. Earlier, between the haze and the pounding, she hadn't gotten a chance to take in his body. She thought back to what those abs had felt like in the dark last n1ght. She had to admit, the man was put together. Miles had to be six-two at least, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, every muscle cut and dense, the proportions almost unreal. He was, without a doubt, the best of the best. No wonder Shawn had once joked Miles could've dated half the women in the city if he'd wanted to. A catch like that was hard to resist. Scarlett caught herself staring and slid her tongue across her lower lip. Right then, the water cut off. Miles walked back to the bathtub, his C0ck already hard again and pointed straight at Scarlett. He caught her by the wrist. ***** Miles left around three thirty in the afternoon. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Scarlett took one look at the marks Sc@ttered across her body and felt her stomach bottom out. Miles must've been raised by wolves. He'd worked her over like she was a god@mn chew toy. Those marks weren't going anywhere for at least four or five days, which meant her fertile window this month was completely Shót. On top of all that, she still had to come up with some kind of story for Shawn. Scarlett pressed her palms together and sent up a quick prayer, begging whatever higher power was listening for one halfway-decent excuse. Someone up there must've taken pity on her, because an hour later, her phone buzzed with a text from Shawn. Shawn: [Got a last-minute trip to Westbrook to check on a project. Entertain yourself.] Right below the message, he'd wired her 30 thousand dollars. The second Scarlett saw the transfer notification, it hit her like a freight train. 'That son of a Bĭ Miles still hasn't paid me a god@mn cent!' She launched off the couch, ready to march over and collect, only to realize she had no way to track him down. His number wasn't saved anywhere in her phone. The debt would have to wait until they crossed paths again. ***** A week went by before Scarlett laid eyes on Miles again, this time at a high-end equestrian club in Hinston. Shawn had put the whole thing together, and since Scarlett happened to be at his place that morning, he brought her along for the ride. The crowd was Shawn's usual lineup of regulars, and not a single one of them had any use for her. Scarlett had a thick skin about it. She tuned out the side-eyes and threw herself into playing the dutiful hostess, ferrying drinks and keeping every glA$$ topped off. Tray in hand, she worked the room, asking each guest what he wanted and pouring one drink after another. One of the younger guys clicked his tongue and Shót her a smug little smirk. "@mn. The professionally trained ones really are a cut above. Girl knows exactly how to wait on a man." The guy throwing the dig was Yosef Hoffman, the youngest of Shawn's crew at 25, even a year younger than Scarlett herself. He couldn't stand her either, and every word out of his mouth came drenched in that snide, mocking edge. Shawn didn't bother stepping in, which meant Scarlett couldn't exactly fire back and make him look bad in front of his friends. So she pulled on her best airhead routine and laughed it off. "Aw, Mr. Hoffman, you're too kind. Just doing my part, really." Yosef scoffed under his breath. "Shameless." Scarlett kept right on playing deaf, acted like she hadn't heard a word, and drifted over to where Miles was sitting. "Mr. Gilmore, would you like some orange juice?" Miles lifted his eyes, fixed them on her, and b@rely moved his lips. "No. I'll drink yours." Scarlett's hand j3rked so hard she nearly sloshed the drink onto the floor. He hadn't bothered to drop his voice either. Half the table caught the line, and a few curious heads swiveled in her direction. Yosef's eyes went wide. 'The H3ll was that supposed to mean?' he thought. The bottle sitting at Scarlett's seat was just plain spring water. Luckily, Scarlett had nerves of steel. She froze for maybe two seconds before sliding right back into character. "Oh, Mr. Gilmore means the Evian, same as me. Coming right up!" She hustled off, grabbed a bottle, and handed it over with both hands. Miles took it from her, let out a quiet laugh, and remarked in that signature flat voice of his, "She really does know how to do her part." 'Shut the F*ck up, you piece of Sh1t,' Scarlett swore at him in her head, picturing herself st1tching his god@mn mouth shut with a needle and thread. Right on cue, Shawn strolled back into the room. Scarlett wasted no time. She made a beeline for him, wrapped herself around his arm, and cooed, "Honey," in her sweetest, syrupy voice. Shawn pinched her cheek. One of the guys at the table piped up. "Wait, since when does Miles hand out compliments to Scarlett?" Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What'd he say?" "What do you think he said?" Yosef cut in with a fresh dose of sarcasm and rolled his eyes. "Said she really knows how to take care of a man." Miles smiled and didn't bother answering. He took a sip of water and pushed up from his chair. "I'm gonna go pick out a horse." Scarlett let out a quiet breath of relief. Yosef had a foul mouth on him, sure, but for once, she was genuinely grateful he'd jumped in. Otherwise, who knew what kind of Bómb Miles would've dropped next. Twenty minutes pA$$ed and Miles still hadn't come back from the @bles. He'd walked out without his phone too. Everyone else at the table had already picked their horses, and the wait was starting to grate on them. Yosef, smooth as ever, started bossing Scarlett around. "Go drag Miles back. It's not like you can ride anyway." Scarlett glanced over at Shawn. Shawn reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately. "Thanks for putting up with all this, honey." "No trouble at all," Scarlett said with a sweet smile. That was exactly the line she'd been waiting for. Just like that, her Shót at collecting on Miles had landed right in her lap. Scarlett snatched up Miles's phone from the table and took off toward the @bles at a brisk clip. She already had it all worked out in her head. If Miles tried to weasel out of paying, his precious phone was going straight into the nearest pile of horse Sh1t. .............................................................................. Scarlett found Miles tucked away at the very back of the @bles, currently locked in some kind of soulful staring contest with a thoroughbred. The two of them looked completely lost in each other, like nobody else in the world existed. The vibe between them was so @mn intimate, Scarlett honestly half-expected wedding bells. Both Miles and the horse caught the sound of her footsteps and turned to look at her in perfect sync. Scarlett flashed her sweetest smile. "Mr. Gilmore, my husband would like a word with you." Miles gave the horse one last pat on the neck before turning and walking over to her. His eyes raked over her without an ounce of shame, dragging downward and locking on her ch3st. Today she'd gone with a body-hugging athletic set, the kind that showed off every single curve she had. It had been a week since he'd last seen her, but one look and the memory of that afternoon came roaring back. His jaw tightened with irritation. 'Nothing but a cheap little slvt who knows how to flash her t1ts and bait men in. I can just bend her over the stall and F*ck her senseless—' "Mr. Gilmore." Scarlett's voice cut clean through whatever Fĭlȶhy fantasy he'd been spinning. Miles glared down at her, his face ice cold. "F*ck off." She held her hand out toward him, palm up. Miles arched an eyebrow. "You still haven't settled up from last time," Scarlett reminded him in her most helpful tone. "Thirty grand. I'll waive the interest, no charge." Miles let out a sharp bark of laughter, somewhere between genuinely amused and pissed beyond belief. 'Interest, huh? Really interesting.' Miles tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Charging that much? Your Pu$$y made of gold or som3thing?" Scarlett met his gaze without blinking. "Made for you, actually." Miles nearly Ch0ked on his own breath. His jaw locked tight, a vein jumping at his temple. "You're a slvt, you know that?" Scarlett gave a small shrug. "Eh, more or less." Miles's eyes narrowed further. "You're seriously that desperate for cash?" "H3ll yes," Scarlett said, completely deadpan. "Total Lifetime-movie tragedy over here. Deadbe@t gambling dad, scheming mom who tried to pawn me off to some sleazy old creep, little Sh1t of a brother who knocks me around for fun. "Whole town whispering behind my back. Now I've clawed my way back from the grave for sweet, sweet revenge. Venmo me 30 grand and I'll cut you in on the master plan." Miles said nothing. Her face practically lit up as she said it. There wasn't a hint of sadness in sight. Miles scoffed and decided to chalk the whole thing up to nonsense. Sure enough, a second later, Scarlett held his phone up and Shót him a vicious little threat. "Mr. Gilmore, I'm pretty sure you don't want this thing landing face-down in a pile of horseSh1t, do you? Venmo, Zelle, bank transfer, whatever works for you." Miles's eyebrow twitched. For the first time in his entire life, someone actually had the nerve to threaten him. 'This reckless little idiot really thought she was going to pull this off?' Miles lunged forward to snatch the phone back. Scarlett darted sideways like a rocket and dove into the empty stall across the aisle. Miles stared at the stall, momentarily speechless. She crouched into the back corner. "So, you paying up or not?" Miles let out another laugh, sharper this time. "What are you, a god@mn jackrabbit?" "Come find me ton1ght. Make me come twice and the hundred grand is yours." His eyes raked down her body, slow and deliberate. "With a body like that, you better know how to use it." ***** With the terms locked in, Scarlett handed the phone back and slipped away on her own. By the time she got to the arena, Shawn was already mid-round with two clean jumps behind him. She drifted up to the rail, clapping and beaming. "Honey, oh my gosh, you look so hot out there. That was incredible. Babe, you're k1lling it." This brand of saccharine A$$-kissing was Scarlett's bread and butter with Shawn, and the regulars had long since tuned it out. Yosef, parked on a nearby bench catching his breath, finally hit his limit and rolled his eyes. "Jeez, I can't take this anymore. She's fawning over him like he's a baby." "What baby?" Miles dropped onto the bench beside him. Yosef tipped his chin toward Scarlett and Shawn. "Her. The way she sweet-talks Shawn, it's like she's coaxing a @mn baby. Tell me you don't see it." Miles ran a thumb along his jawline, eyes narrowed, and kept his mouth shut. Yosef pressed on. "You're telling me Shawn can't hear it? Come on. She's only here for the money. She doesn't give a Sh1t about him." A smirk pulled at the corner of Miles's mouth. "And you think Shawn actually cares about her?" Yosef's brow knit together. "Then why the H3ll would he drag her around everywhere he goes?" Miles gave his shoulder a quick pat, left the question hanging in the air, pulled on his helmet, and walked onto the course. Scarlett's gaze snagged on Miles over in the adjacent arena, and once she'd locked on, she couldn't pull her eyes away. Every movement was sharp and effortless, every cue clean and instinctive. He cleared a five-foot-three fence without his horse breaking stride. Jumps that high would have placed him at the top of any pro circuit. Scarlett's eyes followed the way Miles moved in the saddle, and her mind went straight back to that n1ght. The s3x had been unreal, no two ways about it. 'Hooking up with a guy like Miles and a paycheck on top of it? Yeah, I could live with that arrangement,' she thought. Once her scheme wrapped up and she vanished back to her hometown, she'd be a ghost to every one of them anyway. The view was starting to do things to her, so she ducked into the restroom to cool off. She'd b@rely finished rinsing her hands when her phone lit up with a call from Simone Taylor. Simone was Shawn's twin sister, and like the rest of his circle, she wasn't a fan of Scarlett. Anytime Simone called first, it spelled trouble. Scarlett dragged in a couple of breaths, reminded herself how much money was on the table, and picked up. "Miss Tay—" "You at the @bles with my brother and his guys?" Simone didn't let her finish. "Yeah." "Miles too, right?" "Yeah." "He bring anyone with him?" "Nope." "How long you sticking around Hinston?" "Was there som3thing you needed, Miss Taylor?" "When they're all together, I need you watching him. Any woman shows up around him, you text me immediately." Scarlett agreed on the spot. After hanging up, she turned Simone's tone over in her head. 'Huh. Simone's got it bad for Miles?' she thought. Simone had buried that crush deep. For her to reach out to Scarlett today of all people, she had to be losing her mind. Scarlett was still smirking when Simone's photo dropped into her messages, a single line tacked underneath. [If this woman ever comes near him, you tell me the second it happens!] She tapped open the photo and got her first look at the woman. The woman wore a white dress, her long hair falling straight against smooth skin, her whole presence cool and untouchable. She was textbook first-love material. Anyone who could rattle Simone this hard had to mean som3thing serious to Miles. 'High school sweetheart? The one that got away?' Scarlett wondered. It clicked then. Two years of working Shawn, and she'd never caught so much as a whisper about Miles dating anyone. She'd never even spotted another woman in his orbit. Every time Shawn brought him up, the line was the same. Nobody was good enough for him. Scarlett's nosy side perked right up, but she knew better than to pry with Simone. ***** The crew spent the day at the @bles and called it around four. Shawn dropped Scarlett off at a downtown mall, transferred her some spending cash, and took off. When Shawn told her he wouldn't be back that n1ght, Scarlett didn't even blink. There was no mystery there. Miles had obviously cleared him out of the way to make room for her house call. After k1lling some time wandering through the mall, she walked out with a three-dollar iced americano from Stellar Coffee and caught the bus over to Miles's place. Miles lived in a luxury high-rise smack in the middle of Hinston's financial district. Scarlett had to clear a security checkpoint and get her face scanned at the front desk before they'd even let her into the building. By the time she finished running the gauntlet, she was finally standing outside his front door. Two presses of the doorbell, and the door swung open. Miles stood in the entryway in a loose set of lounge clothes, hair still damp from a recent shower. She flashed him a quick smile and started to step inside, but he threw out a hand to block her. Scarlett glanced down. "What? Want me to leave my shoes out here?" Miles flicked his eyes toward the Stellar cup in her hand. "Don't bring that cheap-A$$ Sh1t into my house." Scarlett stared at him, then drew in a slow breath. For the kind of money he was paying, she could Ch0ke down a little pride. She'd just treat Miles like another dipSh1t boss signing her paycheck. Plastering on a sweet smile, Scarlett set the nearly empty cup down on the floor outside the door, and Miles finally stepped aside to let her in. She helped herself to a pair of slippers from the rack by the entryway and slid them on. By that point, Miles had already settled onto the couch. He simply pointed toward the bathroom. "Go rinse your mouth out." Scarlett's brow Shót up. "Excuse me?" Miles didn't bother looking at her. "I'm not interested in tasting three-dollar coffee on your tongue." A bitter laugh slipped out of her. The condescension in his voice lit a short fuse, and before she could rein herself in, she snapped. "Get over yourself, dude." Miles's face went arctic. "What did you just call me?" "Um, I mean, Daddy." Scarlett threw in the towel on the spot and bolted for the bathroom. When she came back out, Miles patted the cushion beside him. The scowl on his face hadn't budged an inch. She dropped into the seat next to him and plastered on her brightest fake smile. Miles cut straight to it. "Shawn doesn't give you money?" It was the only explanation his brain could land on for why she'd be drinking a three-dollar coffee. Scarlett broke into theatrical sobs and dabbed at the corners of her eyes for tears that weren't there. "I know, I'm so broke. That's why I've got you, honey. Slip me a little extra, yeah? Then I can start ordering 30-dollar lattes." A muscle ticked in Miles's jaw, and he yanked her down onto his lap. His eyes locked on hers, breath running heavy. "What did you just call me?" Scarlett nearly rolled her eyes. Miles had conveniently tuned out the part where she'd asked for extra cash. "Keep calling me that." Miles dragged his thumb slow across her bottom lip. "Make me satisfied ton1ght, and 150 grand is yours." .............................................................................. Scarlett's eyes lit right up the moment Miles said "150 grand". But talk was cheap, and anything that fell out of a man's mouth while he was thinking with his D1ck was worth even less. She settled into his lap, palm sliding up his jaw. "Send the money first, and I'll make sure you get twice your money's worth." Miles let out a low laugh, fingers digging into her hips. "This how you negotiate with your husband too?" Scarlett breezed right past it. "He's nowhere near as generous as you are, Mr. Gilmore." Whatever ego button she'd pressed, it worked. Miles wired the money over before he so much as touched her again. ***** Miles was spent. Scarlett stretched out on the couch to catch her breath, then pushed herself up and Shót him a sideways glance. What she saw made her pause. Miles sat hunched forward, one hand pressed against his stomach, his jaw locked tight. She stepped closer. "Mr. Gilmore?" Her instinct for reading people kicked in. "Stomach giving you trouble?" Miles didn't answer. He just nodded toward the drawer under the TV stand. "Grab the meds." Scarlett moved without a word, and even thought to pour him a glA$$ of water on her way back. She crouched in front of him, popped a pill out of the blister pack, and lifted it to his lips. Miles took it without protest. Scarlett set the glA$$ down. "You haven't put a thing in your stomach all day. Let me make you som3thing to eat." Miles studied her for a be@t, his mouth curling. "You really get a kick out of playing servant, don't you?" Scarlett Shót the same cold smile right back at him. "Then starve. World'll have one less smartA$$ in it." "What did you just call me?" "SmartA$$." "You're the fir—" "The first woman who's ever talked to you like this. Looks like I've officially got your attention," Scarlett cut in, finishing the sentence for him. "That's where you were headed, right?" She held out her open palm. "Since I'm so special, how about you wire over a little more?" Miles's stomach twisted again, and he honestly couldn't tell if it was the pain or her doing it. He'd never come across a woman this obsessed with money. She might as well print "gold digger" on a business card and hand it out. Funny enough, Scarlett with her claws out was a H3ll of a lot more bearable than Scarlett kissing his A$$. Miles had been Drówning in flattery since he was a kid, and he was sick of every flavor of it. She really was the first person B@llsy enough to mouth off at him. Another wave of cramps hit, and his patience snapped. "Get out, now." Scarlett grabbed her clothes off the floor and pulled them on. Miles figured she was heading for the door. Instead, she marched straight into the kitchen. ***** Twenty minutes later, Scarlett hauled Miles into the dining room and pushed him down into a chair, where he came face-to-face with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup. "Saw you had some fresh noodles in the fridge, so I figured this'd do the trick," Scarlett said. "Noodles are easy on the stomach when it's acting up." Miles didn't move. She picked up a fork and held it out to him. "Come on. Eat." Once he took the fork from her hand, Scarlett walked over to the counter and grabbed her own bowl. Skipping dinner wasn't an option. There was no way she was going to suffer through hunger. Dropping into the seat across from him, Scarlett dug into her noodles with zero shame, the slurps loud and unapologetic, broken up by the occasional gulp of broth. It made a H3ll of a contrast to the slow, polished way Miles ate. His brow knit before he could stop it, and a thin layer of distaste settled into his eyes. "If Shawn ever caught you scarfing food down like that, he'd dump your A$$ in a second." Scarlett nodded along, perfectly cheerful. "Yeah, no kidding. That's exactly why he never sees this side of me." Miles huffed out a dry laugh. "But I get a front-row seat?" Som3thing about it sc@ped at him the wrong way. She wasn't even bothering to put on a performance for him. 'What, am I worse than Shawn now?' he thought. She rolled the words around for a be@t. "Wait. Are you actually jealous?" His mouth twisted. "Of you?" Scarlett brushed it off with a smile. Obviously this wasn't jealousy. This was textbook male ego, the kind that hated coming in second. His pedigree, his bank account, his face, every one of them outranked Shawn's by miles, and getting treated like the runner-up clearly didn't sit well. "I think you're just so down-to-earth and easygoing, Mr. Gilmore," she went on sweetly. "Not like those old-money snobs who look down their noses at people like me. That's the only reason I feel safe enough to just be myself around you." Miles's eyes narrowed to slits. "Watch your tone." She blinked at him, the picture of innocence. "Huh? What's wrong? Don't tell me you actually see yourself as one of those stuck-up, look-down-on-people types, Mr. Gilmore?" This time, Miles didn't take the bait. Working his way through the bowl at his own unhurried pace, he felt the ache in his stomach finally start to settle. He pulled a Wĕt wipe out and cleaned off his mouth and hands. Then he looked up at her. "Whatever Shawn's paying you, I'll double it." Scarlett caught the subtext loud and clear and went still for a be@t. The proposition caught her completely off guard. The idea of climbing into bed with Miles Gilmore had never once crossed her mind. Sure, she wanted the money, but messing around with a man from his world was a different kind of risk. If his family ever got wind of it, she could end up behind bars without so much as a hearing. Miles arched a brow. "What, not interested?" She kept her smile light and easy. "I wouldn't dare." A flat laugh slipped out of him. "Right. The only thing you're good for is being a hole for me to F*ck." Ugly as the line was, it b@rely landed on Scarlett. She'd heard worse, more times than she could count. Fair was fair. As far as Scarlett was concerned, Miles was nothing more than a gorgeous F*ck toy who paid out big and had the bedroom sk1lls to match. ***** A few days after that n1ght, Scarlett was back in Northgate. For the next two weeks plus, she didn't lay eyes on Miles or Shawn. Shawn was buried in some energy project out in the Northwest, traveling nonstop. With Shawn out of reach, her plan to get knocked up was on ice, and the cash had dried up right along with it. Scarlett was stewing over all of it when Miles got in touch. He fired over an address with zero preamble. She opened it up, and it read: [Morningside Manor, Northgate.] It was the top of the heap. Money alone wouldn't get one through the gate. She was still running the numbers on her asking price when Miles cut to the chase and rang. Scarlett picked up, and his voice came through low and clipped. "Across the street. Get in the car." Three minutes later, she was sliding into Miles's G-Wagon. The seatbelt had b@rely clicked when Miles drawled, "You're fast. What, running low on cash?" Scarlett leaned across the console, brushed a kiss against his cheek, then dropped her lips to his ear. "I've been missing you, Mr. Gilmore, missing the way you F*ck me," she breathed. ***** That little Te@se in the car came with a price. The second they were through the door, Miles had her pinned, and he F*cked her until she couldn't string two thoughts together. Miles hadn't known his s3x drive ran this heavy until Scarlett came along. Before her, intimacy had never held much appeal. For reasons of his own, he'd steered clear of it on purpose. But one look at her, and som3thing feral took the wheel. He hated the way that felt. ***** Wiped out from the s3x, Scarlett dropped into bed, dragged the covers up over her head, and was out cold. Right as she started drifting off, she heard Miles pick up his phone. "Hey Shawn." Her ears perked up before she could stop them. "You need som3thing?" Miles asked. Shawn went quiet for a be@t on the other end. "You in for the n1ght already?" "Not yet." He crossed to the bed, sat down on the edge, took in Scarlett curled up under the covers, and let out a quiet scoff. Then, with a wicked little smirk, he ripped the blanket off her body and dug his fingers right into the spot on her ribs where she was most ticklish. For Scarlett, that was a k1ll Shót. She lost it. Two ugly, undignified bursts of laughter tore out of her before she could Ch0ke them back, and she smacked his hand twice, hard. She wanted to mvrder him on the spot. Miles didn't even get pissed. If anything, the corner of his mouth pulled into a slow, satisfied grin. The second Scarlett caught the wicked glint in his eyes, it hit her. She'd walked straight into his trap. Her jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached. On the other end of the line, Shawn had clearly picked up on the woman's voice and the kind of background noises that left nothing to the imagination. The silence dropped between them again. He let it stretch for a few long seconds before he finally got the words out. "Um, are you busy?" Miles answered with a low, lazy hum, then flipped the question right back on him. "That voice ought to sound familiar, don't you think?" .............................................................................. Scarlett's scalp Pr1ckled the second she heard Miles say that. The man was out of his god@mn mind. He just kept asking, like he was scared Sh1tless Shawn wouldn't connect the dots and figure out it was her on the other end of that bed. While she was still Grĭnding her teeth in silent fury, Miles yanked the blanket off her a second time. He tossed the phone onto the mattress, fisted his hands into her shoulders, and dragged his mouth down to her collarbone. ***** Once it was over, Scarlett rolled across the sheets a few times, every Sh1tty thing Miles had just pulled clawing its way back to the surface. She usually kept her voice soft and controlled with Shawn. With Miles it was a completely different sound, raw and uncontained. Either way, there was still a real chance Shawn had caught som3thing that gave her away. Her head pounded, and a hot, restless knot twisted up in her ch3st. Right on cue, Miles strolled out of the bathroom, fresh from his shower. He crossed to the edge of the bed, sat down, and gave her waist a quick, possessive pinch. The move was flippant, smug, and completely out of line, like gasoline on a fire. Scarlett snapped. She Shót upright like a coiled spring and sank her teeth into the side of his throat, right over the artery. Skin split open under her bite. The hot, copper taste of blood hit the tip of her tongue almost instantly. Miles's face went dark. "Looks like I didn't F*ck the att1tude out of you hard enough last time." The words had b@rely cleared his mouth when a sharp slap landed across his cheek with a ringing crack. Scarlett just slapped his face, hard. A sharp ringing started up in his ears, and the whole side of his face burned hot. He stared at her for a few stunned seconds, then threw his head back and laughed, loud and unhinged, while his hand Shót out and clamped down hard on her throat. Survival instinct took over. Scarlett stopped thinking and started fighting like an animal. First she lunged in and sank her teeth into his wrist. The second his grip slackened from the pain, she drove her foot up hard into his stomach. The moment Miles let go, she scrambled across the bed toward the far side. Miles grabbed her by both legs and yanked her back. His voice came out level, no anger in it. "Enough. What the H3ll set you off?" Scarlett shut her eyes. "Shawn never hung up earlier. You did that on purpose, didn't you?" "Yeah. So?" His calm didn't crack. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself plenty." Scarlett had no comeback. "You're that scared of him?" Miles raised an eyebrow. "He's my husband." Scarlett gritted her teeth. "He doesn't have to be." Scarlett went quiet. Miles flipped her onto her back and pinned her with his gaze. "I've got more money than Shawn." Scarlett got the message. But Miles was way out of her league, and she wasn't stupid enough to chase a man at his level. His family was a minefield she couldn't afford to step into. Even landing Shawn had been a stretch. "You actually think popping out a kid is gonna land you a seat at the Taylor table?" Miles pressed. Scarlett shook her head. "I know what their plan is. Take the baby, dump the mother." Miles's jaw tightened, his eyes going dark. "So you're trading your own kid for a payout." Scarlett didn't back down. "One baby, and I will never have to worry about money again. The math works for me." Miles let out a sharp, cold laugh. "F*cking idiot." Scarlett didn't bother arguing back. To people in his world, dignity came with a price tag. Of course they'd write her off as a fool. For her, though, that kind of money could change everything. It could save a lot of people. "Though," Miles murmured, his hand trailing down her stomach, "F*cking you with him on the line? That was fun. Since you're staying with Shawn, we can keep playing this game." Scarlett's voice went cold. "If you're fine sharing me with another man, Mr. Gilmore, I'm fine too. Just keep the money coming." "Yeah? Then next time," Miles brought his mouth to her ear, "I want Shawn watching while you soak my C0ck and Scre@m my name." Scarlett shoved him off. "You sick F*ck." Miles smirked, full of contempt. "Thought money was the only thing you cared about?" ***** Meanwhile, at Taylor Manor... Shawn took in the shattered glA$$ and wreckage spread across the floor, rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and signaled his staff to come clean it up. Shawn walked over to Simone and took hold of her arm. "Come on. Let's take this to the study." They retreated behind closed doors and sat down. Simone svcked in a sharp breath, her delicate features warping with disgust. "Who the H3ll is that little slvt? She actually had the audacity to call him—" The pet name echoed back in her head, too humiliating to even repeat out loud. "How the H3ll did Miles end up touching trash like that?" "Who she is doesn't matter. He slept with her, end of story. It was just a Flîng." Shawn gave her shoulder a steady squeeze. "Trust me on Miles. The guy doesn't slum it. He doesn't lay a finger on anyone outside his own circle." He pointed to himself as the perfect example. "Outside girls are just for fun. That's the whole point. None of us are walking one down the aisle." Shawn's reasoning took some of the heat out of Simone, and her shoulders eased down a notch. She drew in a steadying breath. "Shawn, please. I need you to help me. I want to know every move Miles makes. I can't keep standing back and watching one woman after another get close to him. "The cheap little slvts he picks up, whatever, I can live with that. But what if Jane Grant comes back? I'm not going to sit here and watch him end up with somebody else." Shawn turned it over in his mind for a long be@t, and a plan started clicking together. He gave a slow nod. "Get some rest. I'll set som3thing up with him tomorrow and feel things out." ***** Scarlett ended up spending the n1ght at Miles's place. When her eyes finally cracked open the next morning, his hand was still locked around her waist. She inched away, and he hauled her right back against him without missing a be@t. She tried to wriggle free of his arm. "Let's settle up. I really need to get goi—" The words were b@rely out of her mouth before Miles pinned her down and bent to kiss her neck. 'God, the testosterone on this man. Where does he even get the energy?' Scarlett thought, rolling her eyes. A heartbe@t later, his mouth moved down to her collarbone, and any thought of getting up went out the window. ***** Seven o'clock that evening, Scarlett walked into the Core Club on Shawn's arm to find the private room already half full. When she spotted Miles, the soreness in her lower back came roaring back to life. Miles didn't even glance her way. Yosef and one of their friends, Xavier Stimson, were parked on either side of him, and the three of them were mid-conversation. The whole get-together was a small one. Only a handful of names had made the invite list. Scarlett dropped into the seat right next to Shawn. Phone in hand, Miles slid back the empty chair beside her and moved to sit down. Yosef elbowed him. "Miles, watch where you're going, man!" Miles slid his gaze over to Scarlett and Shawn. "You mind?" "Course not." Shawn grinned. "Perfect timing, actually. I've got some work stuff I want to run by you." Miles grunted his acknowledgment and dropped into the seat right next to Scarlett. Scarlett poured water for each of them, just like she always did. Miles glanced at her, then hit Shawn with a question out of left field. "What's your wife do for work?" The question threw Shawn for a second, but he answered easily. "Nothing much. She just tags along and helps me out here and there." He used the opening to pivot. "Actually, perfect timing. I can't stay on the Westridge case. Want me to put someone under you to keep it moving?" Miles took a slow, deliberate sip of his water. "Sure. Have your wife stick with me, then." Scarlett's breath caught. Yosef and Xavier both Whîpped their heads around at the same time. Even Shawn blanked for a be@t. "Huh?" Miles let an easy smile settle on his face. "Your wife knows how to wait on a man. I happen to need somebody around for exactly that." Yosef cracked up. "Yeah, no Sh1t. Waiting on a man is 100 percent her wheelhouse." The laugh k1lled whatever suspicion had been brewing in Shawn's head. It made sense, too. Scarlett read a room well and knew how to take care of people. Playing personal A$$istant to Miles wasn't a stretch. Shawn clapped Scarlett on the shoulder. "Alright. You're sticking with Miles from here on out." Scarlett didn't say a word, but her stomach dropped clean through the floor. 'What's Shawn thinking? Is this some kind of test?' ----------------------- Due to the word limit, it can only be updated here! 👉👉Open the app and continue reading the rest of the story.👉(It will automatically jump to the book when you open the app.)

"Too deep, Luca... I’m so full." Luca—my best friend, the boy I’d secretly loved for years—was having sex with my roommate on the other side of the wall. Ever since my parents died, he was my entire world, my only anchor. I even tore up my dream school’s acceptance letter just to stay by his side. And what did my devotion buy me? Nothing but degrading silence and ultimate humiliation. "Enough." I turned away from the door, walked across the hall, and knocked on the door of his worst rival—Julian Vance. West bridge’s hockey king opened it, his grey-blue eyes dragging down my soaked shirt. "Sure about this, sweetheart?" he murmured. I nodded, gripping my suitcase. The next second, the lock clicked—and he slammed me hard against the door. "Move in, and you play by my rules." In the darkness, his knee forced my thighs apart, his scorching breath burning my earlobe. "Tonight, you sleep in my bed." ………………………………………………………………………… Aria’s pov. The moans slipped through the wall, again. Luca, my best friend, my secret crush for years, was having sex with my roommate on the other side of the wall. The sounds were louder than usual tonight, a sharp, rhythmic thudding against the drywall that felt like it was happening inside my own head. It felt deliberate, like Serena wanted to make sure I heard every single gasp, every single second of her winning. It was a shitty way to end a twelve-hour double shift at the coffee shop. I lay on my bed, my eyes burning from the caffeine and the fluorescent lights I’d been under all day. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. Serena’s moans were reckless. I looked at the small, framed photo on the corner of my desk—my parents and my older brother, Anthony, smiling in the sun. They’ve been gone for five years now. The car accident that took them when I was fifteen shattered my entire world in a single afternoon. Luca was the only one who didn't let me drown in the silence of that empty house. He held me while I cried until I had no tears left. He stayed when everyone else eventually went back to their lives. He was my anchor, my only piece of home left in the world. That’s why I followed him here to Westbridge University. I gave up a full ride at my dream school just so I wouldn't have to face a single day without him nearby. What a massive, pathetic fool I was. Now I was just the scholarship girl working two jobs while he lived the life of a rich playboy. I’d watched him date dozens of girls over the years. I used to just sit back and wait for them to vanish, which they usually did after a month or two. I told myself they were just distractions, toys he used because he wasn't ready for something real. But Serena felt different. She didn't feel like a distraction, she felt like a permanent replacement. The noise from the next room spiked again, a loud moan that made my skin crawl with a mix of nausea and rage. The lack of sleep and the physical ache in my back from standing all day finally made something inside me snap. I pushed myself up from the bed so fast it felt like the world jolted with me. I stormed into the hallway of our suite and hammered my fist against Serena’s door with everything I had. "Keep it the fuck down, you two!" I yelled. My voice sounded raw, cracking under the weight of the frustration I’d been bottling up for weeks. "Some of us actually have to work for a living in the fucking morning!" The noise stopped instantly. It was replaced by a silence so heavy I could feel it pressing against my eardrums. I didn't wait for a response. I turned around, went back into my room, and shut my door hard enough to make the walls tremble. I fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to force my heart to stop racing. A few minutes later, there was a sharp, aggressive knock on my door. I thought it was Luca coming to apologize, but when I opened it, Serena was leaning against the frame. She wore one of Luca’s oversized t-shirts, looking like she’d stepped out of a magazine. She had a smirk on her face that made me want to slap the look right off her. "You're very grumpy tonight, Aria," She said, pushing past me into my room. "I'm tired, Serena. I just want to sleep. Get out," I said, my voice flat and exhausted. She leaned against my dresser, looking at me with this fake, sugary pity that made my stomach turn. "Is it really the noise that's bothering you? Or is it the person making me scream?" she asked. I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck, my face burning with a humiliation I couldn't hide. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. "Oh come on. I'm not blind. Just admit it. You’re in love with him," she said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Every time he touches me, you feel like you're dying inside, don't you?" she asked. I couldn't breathe. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I looked past her and saw Luca standing in the hallway. He was frozen there, his hair messy, his shirt unbuttoned. He had heard everything. He looked confused and deeply uncomfortable, like he was looking at a car wreck he didn't want to be involved in. He didn't defend me. He didn't tell her she was being cruel. He just stood there, avoiding my gaze, letting the silence confirm everything Serena said. "Get out," I told her. My voice was trembling now, and I hated myself for it. "Both of you. Get the fuck out of my room," I said. Serena let out a soft, mean laugh and walked back into the hall. Luca stayed for a second longer, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something, but he eventually just followed her back into her room. I locked the door and stayed awake for a while, too embarrassed to stop thinking, replaying the look on his face, everything I should have said, everything I didn’t. I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep. ★ The next morning was beyond awkward. I tried to stay in my room as long as possible, but I eventually had to go to the kitchen for coffee. I ran right into Luca. He looked perfectly fine, looking like he’d slept for ten hours, while I looked like a ghost. The eye bags were heavy under my eyes and my stare was probably enough to frighten the dead. "Hey, Ri," he said. He was acting like the fight last night didn't even happen. "My mom called today," he said, pouring himself some juice. "She wants to host a dinner for Serena this weekend. She wants to officially meet her," he continued. I felt a sharp, icy pain in my chest that made it hard to swallow. Luca had never brought a girl home to his parents before. Not once in all the years I’d known him. Only me. I was the only girl who had ever met his family, and I had secretly convinced myself it would stay that way until it was my turn for real. "That's nice," I said, keeping my voice as dead as I felt inside. "I want you to come with us," he said. He beamed at me, like he was doing me a favor. "It’ll be less awkward if you’re there you know. You can even study in the library at my house while we do the dinner," he added. He was serious. He really expected me to sit at his family’s table and watch him play house with the girl who had just destroyed me. He didn't care about my feelings. He didn't even care that Serena had humiliated me right in front of him. To him, I was just a fixture. A doll that came along for the ride. At that moment, I realized the truth. He was serious about her. And I was officially being replaced. "I can't go, Luca. I'm busy," I said. "Busy with what? You always come home with me on weekends," he argued. "Not anymore. I have plans," I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. I don’t owe you any explanation for how I choose to live my life. I walked away before he could say another word. I went back into my room and pulled up my banking app. I stared at the balance, calculating every penny from my scholarship and my shifts. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me a deposit on a tiny room somewhere else. I looked at the thin dorm walls and realized I couldn’t stay here another night. I was done being the backup friend. Tonight, I’m leaving. Chapter 2 Aria’s pov. I didn't even bother looking in the mirror before I walked out of my room. I knew I looked like a ghost, but I didn't care. I grabbed my phone and my work bag, checking to make sure I had my keys and nothing else. I was halfway to the front door when Serena stepped into the hallway, still wearing that same smug look from last night. "Leaving so soon? Luca hasn't even finished his breakfast yet," she said mockingly. Her voice was like a slow-acting poison, and I could feel it working its way under my skin. "Stay out of my way, Serena. For real," I said. I didn't wait for her to come up with some clever comeback. I just pushed past her and walked out of the dorm, stepping right into a miserable, gray downpour. The rain was freezing, soaking through my thin shirt in seconds, but it felt better than being inside that suite. I walked all the way to the coffee shop where I worked, my head spinning with every step. When I pushed through the door, the bell jingled loudly, and the warmth of the shop hit me like a physical wall. Mark, my manager, looked up from the register and let out a low whistle. "Aria? You’re not on the schedule until four. You look like a drowned rat, kid," he said. "I’m fine. Mark, do you have a minute? I really need to talk to you," I said. I was shivering so hard my teeth were practically chattering. "Sure, what's up? You look like you're about to have a breakdown," he said. "I have some major accommodation issues. I can't stay in my dorm anymore. Like, I need a new place today," I told him. I was trying to keep my voice down, but the shop was quiet and my voice was already shaky. "Do you know anyone with a spare room? Or a cheap studio? I have some savings, but I need it right now," I added. Mark rubbed his chin, looking concerned. "Today? That's a tall order, Aria. Most places near campus are booked solid this time of year. It's midterm season," he reminded me. I let out a frustrating sigh, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "But you can post on the school website. I bet someone there could help you out," he suggested. I shook my head immediately. "I can't. Everyone on that site is a shark, Mark. I'm a scholarship kid. They'll just use it to rip me apart," I said. "Why? You really need it, don't you? Desperate times, Aria," he pushed. I opened my mouth to deny him again, but the image of Serena and Luca together in that hallway stabbed my vision. I couldn't bear another second of that nightmare. I pulled out my phone and opened the school website, a place I usually avoided like the plague unless I wanted to see who they were bullying that week. I typed in the words quickly: "Hi. Having major accommodation issues. If you have a room I can rent please, my DM is open. Urgent." I almost shuddered in disgust as I hit the button. The text felt tacky and reeked of desperation, but I didn't have any other cards to play. The site let out a little beep, confirming it had been uploaded to the public feed. "Done," I said to Mark, who was peering over the counter at me. "Good. Now we just wait and—" The notification sound on my phone disrupted his words. I shifted my gaze to the screen and froze. Someone had replied. Not in my DMs. Publicly. "I have an apartment. Meet me at the cafeteria if you are interested," the comment read. I almost screamed in joy, but the stone-faced gaze from a customer nearby snapped me back to reality. "Someone replied! Already!" I shoved the phone toward Mark. "See? I told you," he said, smiling warmly. "Who is it? Can you tell?" I asked. I read the username out loud. "J. Vance." I’d never heard of the name, but then again, I didn't exactly hang out with the elite crowd at this school. I figured it was probably a girl named Jules or maybe a nerd who felt sorry for me. "So when are you meeting the mystery person?" Mark asked. "They didn't give me time, so I'm guessing they want to meet now. It's almost lunch," I said. I looked at the clock on the wall. 9:45 a.m. "Go get ready. You can't meet a potential roommate looking like you just crawled out of a lake," Mark said. I nodded and hurried back to the dorm. Luckily, it was empty. Luca and Serena must have finally left for their morning classes. I walked past Luca’s room, and the door was slightly ajar. The air coming from inside still smelled like sex and cheap alcohol, making my stomach churn with a fresh wave of nausea. I slammed the door shut and went to my own room to change. I threw on my normal baggy jeans and a clean top, tossing my damp hair into a quick ponytail. I checked my reflection once, adjusted my glasses, and ran back out the door. When I stepped into the school cafeteria, it felt like the entire world stopped turning. All eyes turned to me, and for once, it wasn't the usual look of boredom. I ignored them and searched for Table 7, the spot the user had mentioned in their DM follow-up. I caught it in the corner. Someone was already sitting there. From the broad shoulders and the dark, expensive-looking hair, it definitely wasn't a girl named Jules. Shit. I hoped he wasn't some kind of pervert. I shoved the thought aside and walked closer, letting out a little cough to get his attention. "Hi. I'm here about the apartment. You commented on my post," I started rambling. Then he straightened up and turned around. I stopped talking. I stopped breathing. The world actually seemed to stop. Because sitting in the chair was Julian Vance. He was wearing a black pea coat that probably cost more than my entire year's tuition. He was the hockey captain. Every girl at Westbridge had a crush on him. He looked successful and untouchable, like he lived in a completely different universe than me. His dark eyes, which I hadn't seen up close in over a decade, widened just slightly. "Aria?" he asked, his voice a low, rough velvet, laced with genuine surprise. I could only manage a slow nod. "Hi, Julian." "It's been... ages," he said, the surprise quickly masked by his usual guarded demeanor. "I heard you were on campus, but I haven't seen you since—since you were about knee-high. I left campus with my father's company shortly after, remember?" "I do," I mumbled. "You... you were gone for a long time." "For a while, yeah. But I'm back now, obviously," he said, a ghost of a smile touching the corner of his lips. He leaned back in his seat, suddenly serious. "So, the apartment. I saw your post. What's going on? Are you okay?" "I am," I lied, too quickly. "Just accommodation issues. A misunderstanding with my... current situation." He nodded, his gaze unwavering, as if he knew exactly what I wasn't saying. "I have a place near the Heights. You can have the guest suite," he said. He wasn't even whispering. The whole cafeteria had gone dead silent. Every single jaw was hanging open in total shock. "Huh? You... you really mean it?" I whispered. "I-I thought you didn't even remember me." "I knew who you were, Ri," he said, using the old nickname. It felt like a punch to the gut. I almost forgot Luca and he came up with the nickname for me. "And yes, I mean it. I won't overcharge you, and I rarely use it anyway." He was talking, but my mind couldn't even process the words. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it out to me. Mindlessly, I took it. It was a phone number and an address. "Call me when you're ready to move," he said. He didn't wait for an answer. He just stood up and walked out like he owned every single inch of the floor he was walking on. I watched him disappear through the double doors, then looked back at the students. They were staring at me with a mix of envy, disgust, and pure, unadulterated hate. At that moment, I wanted the floor to open and swallow me. Chapter 3 Aria’s pov. I was hiding. I sat at the furthest corner table of the coffee shop, staring at the piece of paper Julian had given me in the cafeteria like it was a piece of radioactive waste. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing in my pocket. Notifications from the school website were blowing up, of course from other students, and I didn't even have to open them to know what they said. The lowly scholarship girl and the King of Hockey. What a headline. The gossip was spreading faster than a leak in a dam, and I was right at the center of it. I couldn't stop thinking about the look in Julian's eyes when he stood up and walked away. He didn't look like he was playing a prank. He looked like he was waiting for me to just say yes already. Everyone at Westbridge knew about the war between the Morettis and the Vances. It wasn't just a school rivalry, it was a blood feud between two massive companies that had been trying to bankrupt each other for some years now. Julian was the one everyone loved and cheered for, the quiet hero of the hockey team who had the whole campus wrapped around his finger. Luca was the opposite, the reckless playboy of the Moretti empire who spent more time flaunting his wealth than in a classroom. Growing up, I was always stuck in the middle of them. I remembered our kindergarten playground fights, back when we were kids—when they both swore I would be their bride. I thought it was all just a joke. We were only kids. Julian was the one who actually got his knuckles bloody fighting for me back then, standing his ground even when he was outnumbered. Luca would just use his charm to talk his way out of trouble, always smiling like the world owed him everything. I had always chosen to stay by Luca’s side, thinking his flashy charm was safer than whatever intense fire Julian had in his eyes. Even though I knew he was a reckless playboy, I couldn’t help but hope, just a little, that one day he would realize that I love him. What a massive mistake that turned out to be. "Aria! My God, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!" I jumped slightly as my best friend, Elena, slid into the chair across from me, her eyes wide with total shock. She slammed her phone down on the table, showing the school’s main forum page. Julian’s public reply to my post was the top-rated comment, with hundreds of likes and even more people losing their minds in the replies. "Aria, tell me right now why Julian Vance is offering you a luxury suite in the Heights," she demanded. I sighed and told her everything—the desperate need of an apartment, how I had to put up the notice on the site and then how he just handed me his number and walked out. I also told her about the dorm drama. From the whole sex charade to the dinner invite Luca gave me for Serena. Elena looked like she was having a heart attack right there in the middle of the shop. "You have to do it. You have to call him right now," she said. "I can't just move in with a guy I haven't seen in over a decade, Elena. We talked for two minutes and it was so intense. It's too much," I argued. "Aria, look at yourself. You're exhausted, you're hiding, and your 'best friend' is busy bringing another girl home to meet his parents," she said. She leaned across the table, her voice getting serious. "Julian is the golden boy here for a reason. He’s responsible and he’s quiet. If he’s opening his door for you publicly, he's basically protecting you from the fallout," she added. "He probably just wants to spite Luca," I muttered. "Who cares? It's your chance to finally stop being Luca's shadow. He’s never going to choose you, Aria," she said. That hit me harder than the rain outside. She was right. I thought about how Luca had cancelled our traditions lately. The movie nights he missed. The ten-year anniversary he forgot because Serena wanted a spa day. Even going shopping with her. I realized I wasn't his best friend anymore. It was just a habit he was trying to break. "I'm going back to the dorm," I said, standing up suddenly. "To sleep?" Elena asked. "No. To pack. I'm done being an inconvenience," I told her. I walked back to the dorms, my heart hammering a rhythm of pure defiance. I walked right through the front door, not caring who saw me. When I got to the common area, I saw them. Luca and Serena were tangled together on the couch, surrounded by shopping bags from places I couldn't even afford to look at. Luca looked up and frowned when he saw me standing there. "Oh, hey. I forgot we were supposed to grab dinner tonight," he said. He didn't even sound sorry. He sounded like I was an interruption. "I’m taking Serena to the Vanguard Gala tonight. Her dad invited us," he added. He looked at his watch, clearly wishing I would just go away. "It’s fine, Luca. I wasn't expecting you to remember anyway," I said. My voice didn't tremble. I felt weirdly cold, like the rain had finally frozen my heart shut. "Are you okay? You look... different," he said, squinting at me. "I'm great. Have fun at the gala," I said. I didn't wait for a response. I went straight to my room and pulled my suitcases out from under the bed. I shoved everything I owned into them—my clothes, my books, the photo of my parents. I left the stuff Luca had bought me over the years on the desk. The stuffed bear. The expensive necklace. I didn't want any of it anymore. I stood in the hallway with my bags, feeling Serena's smug gaze on my back. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number Julian had written down. "I'm ready," I said as soon as he picked up. "Does the offer still stand? Because I'm standing in the hallway with two suitcases and no plan B," I told him. There was a brief silence on the other end. "Hold on. Don't move," Julian said. He hung up, and I stood there in the silence of the dorm that used to be my home. Luca came out of his room, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, and stopped dead when he saw my bags. "What are you doing? Where are you going at this hour?" he asked. "Away from here," I said. "Aria, don't be dramatic. We can talk about this after the gala," he said, reaching for my arm. Dramatic. Right. Of course he'd call it that. Just then, a loud, heavy horn honked from the street below. I looked out the window and saw Julian's car idling at the curb, dark and imposing. "That's my ride," I said, pulling my arm away from him. "Is that Vance’s car? Aria, what the hell is going on? Did you really take his offer?" Luca shouted. I didn't give him an explanation. I didn't owe him a single word. I grabbed my suitcases and walked out the door, leaving him standing there in his expensive suit looking completely lost. I made it down to the curb just as Julian stepped out of the car. He didn't say anything as he took my bags and tossed them into the trunk. He opened the passenger door for me, his eyes searching mine for a second. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Drive," I said. He nodded, climbed in beside me, and just like that, we drove off. I resisted every urge to look back at the boy I'd spent half of my life yearning for. Chapter 4 Julian’s pov. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were turning white, but I kept my face like stone. Inside, I was screaming. I was actually, physically vibrating with the kind of high I haven't felt since I was what, ten years old? She was in my car. Aria Vale was sitting in my passenger seat, her scent of old coffee beans and rain filling up my space. I had waited three years for this exact moment. Most people think I transferred to Westbridge for the hockey program or the business prestige. And it made sense considering those were the excuses I gave my parents to let me come here. But still, that was far fetched, really. The only reason I transferred was because I saw a post on her Instagram three years ago about her getting a scholarship here. I spent my entire freshman year at a different school just watching her from a screen, waiting for the right time to move. I knew Luca was an idiot. I knew he would eventually choose someone shiny and loud like Serena because he has zero taste and even less heart. I was actually on her school profile when it happened. I had been scrolling through her old photos, just like I did every morning, when the notification popped up at the top of my screen. It was a public post on the housing board. "Major accommodation issues. If you have a room I can rent, DM me. Urgent." My heart nearly stopped. I didn't even think. I didn't breathe. I just typed out the reply as fast as my fingers could move. I knew it was public. I knew the whole school would see it. I wanted them to see it. I wanted every single person on this campus to know that if Aria Vale needed a place to go, she was coming to me. I came to this school and I played the role of the quiet, disciplined hockey captain. I walked past her lecture halls every single day, just hoping to catch a glimpse of the back of her head. I knew her schedule better than she did. I knew what time she started her shifts at that shitty coffee shop. I even knew which library table was her favorite because I’d sit three rows back just to watch her study. Some would call it stalking, and yes, I'm not going to bother lying about it. But I was also protecting her. I’d seen the way people looked at her because she was a scholarship girl. I made sure those people knew that if they messed with her, they’d be dealing with Vance. But all that didn't matter anymore because now, all of my hard work had finally paid off. Even though I pretended not to know she was the one I was meeting at the cafeteria... she was here. She was finally here. I pulled into my garage and took a breath, trying to calm my racing heart before I looked at her. "We're here," I said. My voice sounded normal, which was a miracle considering I felt like I was losing my mind. She didn't say anything. She just got out and stood there with her two suitcases. I took them from her, wanting to burn them because they reminded me of the life she lived with that loser. We got up to the apartment and the elevator doors slid open. I gave her the tour, pointing out the kitchen and the living room and the balcony. I watched her face the whole time. It remained icily blank. Totally unfazed by the marble floors or the view that costs more than most people make in a lifetime. I’ve always loved that about her. She doesn't really care about things that aren't hers. She’s hardworking, beautiful, even though she isn’t financially buoyant. She’s herself and doesn’t try to impress anyone or keep up with the campus hot girls, as they call themselves. She has this pride that is so thick you could choke on it. It makes me want to break and bend her so badly, until she only relies on me. "This is your suite," I said, opening the door to the guest wing. She walked in and looked around, her expression still not changing. "Thank you, Julian," she said. Her voice was small, but it was steady. "I mean it. I appreciate you helping me out of that situation," she added. "It’s fine, Aria. I told you I had the space," I said. I was standing too close to her, and I could see the way her eyelashes were still damp from the rain. "I just want to be clear about something," she said, turning to face me. "There is nothing more to this situation. You're helping me, and I'm grateful," she said. She was drawing a line in the tiles, and I wanted to laugh. "I’m going to start paying you rent as soon as I can pick up extra shifts," she continued. "You don't need to worry about money here," I told her. "I do. Because I don't take charity," she snapped. She stepped back into her room and grabbed the handle of the door. "Goodnight, Julian," she said. Then she slammed the door right in my face. I stood there in the hallway for a long time, staring at the dark wood of the door. I bit back a smile until my cheeks actually hurt. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy. She could feel like she was doing the right thing by setting boundaries all she wanted. But she was already in my house. She was under my roof, eating my food, and sleeping in a bed I bought. She was mine now, even if she didn't know it yet. My phone started buzzing in my pocket, ruining the moment. I pulled it out and saw my mother’s name on the screen. I sighed and swiped to answer. "Julian. Why am I hearing that you have a guest?" she asked. She didn't even say hello. My mother has people tailing me, and she’s never been subtle about it. "I have a roommate, Mother. It’s a big apartment and I was getting tired of being lonely," I said. I walked over to the window and looked out at the city lights. "Don't lie to me. I know who she is. She’s that girl. Moretti's friend. Come on, son. She's pathetic," my mother said. "Her name is Aria," I corrected her, my voice turning cold. "I don't care what her name is. She is a distraction. You have a reputation to maintain, and the Morettis would love to use this against us," she hissed. "Make sure she does not distract you from your goals, Julian. Or I will make sure she is removed from the equation," she warned. The threat made my blood turn to ice. "If you touch her, I will burn everything you’ve worked for to the ground. I swear it," I said. I didn't wait for her to respond before I hung up. I threw my phone onto the sofa and rubbed my face with my hands. The Vance family was a shark tank, and I had just brought a lamb into the middle of it. But I didn't care. I walked back toward my own bedroom, pausing outside her door one last time. I could hear the faint sound of her moving around inside. She was safe here. I had spent years watching her be treated like an afterthought by a guy who didn't deserve to breathe her air. Now, I was the one who got to see her wake up in the morning. I was the one who got to see her without the mask she wore for the rest of the world. I didn't have any plans on letting her go. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. I went into my room and lay down, staring at the ceiling and listening to the silence of the apartment. It didn't feel empty anymore. It felt full. I thought about the look on Luca’s face when I picked her up. He looked like he had just realized he lost his most valuable possession. He was right. He had lost her, and he was never getting her back. I’d make sure of that. I’d make sure she forgot his name within a month. I couldn't wait for tomorrow morning. I couldn't wait to see her sitting at my table. I was going to make her her favorite tea. I was going to make her the eggs she liked. I was going to show her what it felt like to actually be seen. I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face for the first time in years. Everything was finally going according to plan. Chapter 5 Aria’s pov. I didn't sleep well. Even though the bed in Julian’s guest suite felt like sleeping on a literal cloud, I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. The room was too quiet and the air felt too.... I don't know, expensive? I kept waiting for someone to knock on the door and tell me this was all a prank. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I felt like a zombie in a scholarship girl’s body. I brushed my hair and tried to look like I hadn't spent the night questioning every single life choice I’d made in the last decade. I walked into the kitchen and there he was. Julian was already dressed in a crisp black hoodie and joggers, looking like a professional athlete even before his morning coffee. He pushed a mug of Earl Grey toward me without saying a word. Two drops of honey. Exactly what I needed at that moment. I took a sip and felt the warmth hit my stomach, but it didn't stop the fluttering of nerves. "I have a ten a.m. lecture," I said, breaking the silence. "I know. I'm driving you," he said. He didn't even look up from his tablet. "Julian, you don't have to do this. I can take the bus. I don't want to make things weird," I told him. He finally looked at me, and his gray-blue eyes felt like they were pinning me to the chair. "The bus takes forty minutes. My car takes ten. You need the extra thirty minutes to study," he said pointedly. He wasn't suggesting it. He was stating it like it was a law of physics. Translation, I didn't have a say really. "Are you always this bossy?" I muttered into my tea. "Only when I'm right," he answered. I wanted to argue, but I was too tired to fight with a guy who was giving me a free place to stay. I grabbed my bag and followed him down to the garage. The car ride was silent, but it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was tense. I kept looking at his hands on the steering wheel, wondering why the hockey captain was being so careful with me. When we pulled onto the Westbridge campus, I felt the immediate urge to duck. Julian’s car was a dark, sleek shark in a sea of basic student vehicles. He didn't pull into the parking lot. He drove right up to the front of the main quad. The quad was packed with students grabbing breakfast between classes. "You're making a scene," I whispered, clutching my bag. "Let them look," Julian said. He actually got out of the car and walked around to open my door. I felt like I was walking onto a movie set where I didn't know the lines. "I'll be here at four. Don't be late," he said, his voice carrying just enough for the nearest group of girls to hear. I nodded, confused, and practically ran toward the library entrance. I could hear the whispers starting behind me like a wave. "Is that Aria Vale?" "Since when does Vance let people in his car?" I kept my head down, staring at the pavement until I saw a pair of familiar sneakers. I looked up and my heart stopped. It was Luca. He was standing near the fountain, looking like he hadn't slept either. His tuxedo from last night was gone, replaced by a rumpled hoodie, and his hair was a mess. "Aria," he said, stepping into my path. I tried to walk around him, but he moved to block me. "We need to talk," he said. "I have class, Luca. And I think we said everything last night," I told him. I felt incredibly uncomfortable. People were stopping to watch us. "What were you doing in Julian Vance's car?" he asked. His voice was loud, full of that jealous edge that didn't make sense since he had Serena. "He's my roommate. I told you I was moving," I said. “And I owe you no explanation for what I choose to do with my life.” "Roommate? Aria, are you insane? Do you even know who that guy is?" he shouted. He reached out to grab my wrist, but I stepped back before he could touch me. "I know he's the guy who didn't spend the morning making me listen to him have sex with my roommate," I snapped. A few people nearby gasped, and I saw Luca’s face go pale. "Ri, it’s not like that. I was just... I was distracted," he stammered. "First off, don't call me that. It's Aria to you. And second, you’ve been distracted for ten years, Luca. I'm done waiting for you to look at me," I said. The discomfort was like one helluva huge physical weight now, making me want to crawl into a hole. But I wasn't going to back down from this easily. He needed to know what's on my mind. He needed to know that he fucked up real bad. "Does he know?" Luca asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Does he know what?" "Does he know you've been in love with me since we were kids? Or are you just using him to make me jealous?" he sneered. I felt a slap of pure humiliation hit me. Of course he knew. He had always known how I felt, and he’d just let me sit there in the shadows like I was a bloody waiter while he dated everyone else. "He knows I'm a roommate who pays her rent," I lied, my voice cold. "And even if I was using him, at least he's worth the effort. Unlike you," I added. Luca looked like I’d actually punched him in the gut. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then he looked over my shoulder and froze. I turned around and saw Julian’s car hadn't moved. Julian was leaning against the driver's side door, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't doing anything. He was just watching. But the way he was looking at Luca was so intense, so dark, that it felt like the temperature in the quad dropped ten degrees. "Leave her the hell alone, Luca," Julian said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise of the quad perfectly. I didn’t know what this was all about between them, but I wouldn’t be the reason they caused a scene here. I looked back at Luca one last time. He looked small. He looked like a boy trying to play a man’s game. "Stay away from me, Luca. I'm being serious as fuck this time," I said. I walked away, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst through my ribs. "Fuck!" I heard Luca cuss behind me. For a minute, it actually sounded like he felt mad at himself for letting me go. But then again, you can't wipe a leopard's skin spotless. He was never going to change and that was the truth. Chapter 6 ARIA’S POV Avoidance should be an Olympic sport. If it were, I’d have gold by noon. I left my last lecture five minutes early, slipped out through the side stairwell instead of the main hall, and took the long route behind the science building just to avoid the quad. Every corner I turned felt like a potential ambush. Whispers followed me anyway. They didn’t need to see me to talk about me. I kept walking. Head down. AirPods in. Music off. The parking lot came into view, and I exhaled slowly. If I could just make it to the curb where Julian said he’d pick me up, I could survive the day. Then I heard my name. “Aria!” Of course. I didn’t turn around. “Aria, please.” The word please made me pause despite myself. Stupid heart. Stupid history. I turned slowly. Luca looked wrecked. Not the artfully messy, campus golden boy version of wrecked. Actually wrecked. Dark circles under his eyes. Jaw tight. Shoulders slumped like something inside him had finally cracked. He walked toward me carefully, like I was a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. “Can we just talk? Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.” “You’ve had ten years,” I replied evenly. He flinched. “I know. I know I screwed up. I was selfish. I thought—you were always there, Aria. You were solid. I didn’t think I had to fight for you.” “That’s the problem,” I said quietly. “You never did.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of me. “Last night was a mistake.” I stared at him. “You didn’t seem confused,” I said. His jaw flexed. “Serena doesn’t mean anything.” The irony almost made me laugh. “But I do?” I asked. “Yes!” he burst out. “You always have.” I felt something inside me tremble and then harden. “Then why did I have to listen to you with her?” I asked. “Why did I have to sit there and pretend I wasn’t dying inside?” He swallowed hard. “I was distracted,” he repeated, desperate now. “The pressure, the team, my dad breathing down my neck about law school. I was just… not thinking straight.” “Ten years, Luca,” I said softly. “You’ve been ‘not thinking straight’ for ten years.” His expression shifted then. Less pleading. More calculating. “And now what?” he said. “You’re thinking straight? By moving in with Julian Vance?” There it was. He stepped closer. “Do you even know who that guy is? You think he’s helping you out of the goodness of his heart? Aria, Julian doesn’t do charity. He doesn’t breathe without a reason.” My stomach twisted. “He’s manipulative,” Luca continued. “Everything he does is strategic. You’re a move to him. A statement. He probably gets off on messing with me.” “That’s rich,” I muttered. “I’m serious,” he pressed. “He doesn’t care about you. He cares about control. You think it’s a coincidence he made a whole scene this morning? He wanted people to see.” My chest tightened. Because part of me knew that was true. Julian had wanted them to see. “But at least he didn’t humiliate me,” I shot back. Luca’s eyes darkened. “You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly. “He’s not safe.” “And you are?” I asked. Silence. Then, a low, familiar engine cut through the tension. Every nerve in my body snapped to attention. Julian’s car turned into the parking lot. Of course he was right on time. Like always. Students immediately slowed their steps. Heads turned. Phones subtly lifted. A small crowd was already forming near the edge of the lot. And Serena was there. Standing near the entrance with two of her sorority friends, arms crossed, expression thunderous. This was becoming a show. Luca noticed the car too. His posture stiffened. “See?” he muttered. “Right on cue.” The car rolled closer. Closer. I could feel it, the narrative forming in real time. Scholarship girl caught between two campus elites. Poor Aria. Indecisive Aria. Desperate Aria. No. Not today. I was done being the girl people felt sorry for. I stepped forward. “Aria, don’t,” Luca warned, reaching for my arm. But this time, I didn’t step back. I walked straight toward the car. Julian slowed, confusion flickering across his face for half a second before the mask slipped back into place. He stopped directly in front of me. The window rolled down. “You’re early,” he said calmly. Behind me, I heard Luca move. “Aria, this is stupid…” His fingers brushed my wrist. That was it. Something inside me snapped. I opened the passenger door. And instead of sliding in, I leaned across the console, grabbed Julian by the collar of his hoodie and kissed him. Gasps exploded around us. For half a second, Julian froze. Just long enough for me to register the shock in his body. Then, he moved. His hand came up, sliding into my hair, gripping, not painfully, but firmly. Possessively. He kissed me back. Not soft. Not hesitant. Deep. Demanding. Like he’d been waiting. The world tilted. My lungs forgot how to function. This was supposed to be strategic. A statement. A weapon. But Julian didn’t kiss like a man playing a game. He kissed like a man claiming something he already believed was his. His other hand slid to my waist, pulling me fully into the car, chest to chest across the center console. My knees hit the seat. My fingers tightened in his hoodie. Heat flooded through me so fast it made my head spin. The parking lot disappeared. The crowd disappeared. There was only the pressure of his mouth, the controlled hunger in the way he angled his head, the quiet, dangerous intensity vibrating beneath his restraint. I made a small, involuntary sound against his lips. That seemed to snap him back. He pulled away slowly. Too slowly. His gray-blue eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them. Not confused. Not amused. Possessive. His thumb brushed once against my jaw before he released me. The silence in the parking lot was deafening. Julian looked past me. Straight at Luca. His expression shifted into something lethal. He stepped out of the car, closing the distance with unhurried confidence. Luca stood his ground, but I saw it, the hesitation. Julian stopped just close enough to make the message clear. “The lady said to leave her alone,” he said evenly. Each word landed like a controlled detonation. “Leave. Her. Alone.” A beat. “Don’t make me force you to.” No shouting. No theatrics. Just certainty. Luca’s fists clenched. But he didn’t move. Julian held his gaze a second longer, then turned away like Luca wasn’t worth another second of oxygen. He walked back to the driver’s seat. Got in. And without another word, he drove off. Fast. The campus blurred past the windows. My heart was still racing. My lips were still tingling. My brain was still trying to process what had just happened. I had kissed him to get back at Luca. That was the plan. But the way Julian had kissed me back? That hadn’t been part of it. Silence filled the car. Thick. Charged. After a full minute, he spoke. “Was that tactical,” he asked calmly, eyes on the road, “or should I start worrying about my self-control?” I swallowed. “I needed him to stop,” I said. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “He’ll stop,” Julian replied quietly. There was something in his tone that made my stomach flip again. Not relief. Not satisfaction. Promise. I turned to look at him. “Julian…” He glanced at me briefly. And for the first time since I’d met him, the mask was gone. What was underneath wasn’t indifference. It wasn't a strategy. It was something far more dangerous. “I don’t do things halfway, Aria,” he said softly. My pulse stuttered. And for the first time since I’d moved into his guest suite, I realized I might have just started something I wasn’t prepared to finish.