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Aug 7, 2026

Christmas Day was my euthanasia day, also the last day of death countdown I set for my husband and his mistress. My husband L...

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Liberty High valedictorian nerd Cynthia Shanley and ultimate bad boy Graham Jewett hooked up right after graduation. In less than a month, they were in bed. He always got her n*ked the second her period ended, lace, toys, any position he craved. Tonight, Graham had her completely n*ked, wrists locked to the headboard with those playful pink cuffs he loved. He pinned her beneath him, moving rough and urgent, like he wanted to devour her whole. "Graham..." Her voice trembled, her fingers clutching the sheets tightly. "Slower... please..." He chuckled, nibbling her earlobe. "I can't slow down. This feels too good." Cynthia's ears burned, her heart pounding so hard it felt ready to burst from her chest. Just as she was lost in the moment, the shrill ring of Graham's phone split the air. He paused, annoyance flickering across his face as he glanced at the screen. But when he saw the caller ID, his expression changed instantly. He released Cynthia, rolled off the bed, and answered the call. "Jenny? What's wrong?" Jennifer Branson's voice came through, thick with tears. "Graham... My stomach hurts so bad. Can you come to the hospital and stay with me?" Graham's brow furrowed. "Wait for me. I'll be there soon." He hung up, grabbed his clothes, and threw them on. Then, without a glance at Cynthia, he turned and walked toward the door. "Graham!" Cynthia struggled, the handcuffs clinking sharply. "We..." Graham paused at the door, looked back at her, his tone dismissive. "Hang in there. I'll satisfy you later, okay?" And with that, he left without another word. The door slammed shut, plunging the room into sudden silence. Cynthia stared blankly at the ceiling, her wrists aching from the cuffs, but the pain in her chest was far worse. She'd been secretly seeing Graham for a year, but in that time, he'd left her for Jennifer countless times. Tonight, he probably wouldn't come back, just like all the nights before. Cynthia spent the whole night cuffed to the bed, her body growing cold, her head spinning. It wasn't until dawn that she managed to break free, stumbling to her feet, dressing herself, and heading to the hospital. She was burning up with fever, and her throat felt like it was on fire. The doctor prescribed medication and told her to get an IV. She wandered the hallway in a daze, clutching her paperwork, until she stopped dead in her tracks outside one of the rooms. Through the half-open door, she saw Graham. He sat by Jennifer's bedside, tall and lean in a black T-shirt that clung to his slim waist. His features were striking and roguish—high cheekbones, a straight, narrow nose, and lips twisted into a careless smirk. But now, this wild, reckless boy gazed at the sleeping Jennifer with profound tenderness. "Gray, you obviously like Jennifer very much—why are you dating Cynthia?" his buddy couldn't help but ask. "She's so plain, dresses like a nerd. Other than her grades, she's got nothing going for her." Graham snorted, leaning back lazily. "She's not much to look at, but her body's great. Perfect for practice." He paused, a wicked grin curling his lips. "Wouldn't want to hurt Jenny later because I don't know how to control myself." His friend clicked his tongue, teasing, "If her body's that good, why not let us have a look, too? Share the love, man." Graham laughed. "Get lost!" Outside the door, Cynthia felt her blood freeze. Graham's words sliced into her heart like a knife. She'd always thought Graham had done it with her because he loved her. But all those steamy nights, the lingerie he coaxed her into, the humiliating positions he demanded... were just for practice? The one he truly loved was Jennifer?! Cynthia's mind buzzed. Unable to take it, she turned and stumbled out of the hospital. At the entrance, the icy wind hit her lungs, and her eyes burned with pain. She remembered the first time she met Graham. It was during gym class. Some boys had cornered her in the equipment room, and she was utterly helpless. Just as she was about to give up hope, a cocky, handsome boy kicked open the door, baseball bat in hand, and leaned lazily against the frame. "Picking on a girl? Real tough, huh?" The boys panicked and bolted, tails between their legs. Graham glanced at her, said nothing, and walked off. Cynthia's heart wouldn't stop racing. Later, she asked around and learned his name—Graham Jewett, the notorious troublemaker at their school. Rumor had it he was heir to the Jewett Group, his family had donated several buildings to the school, and even the principal greeted him with a respectful smile. From that day on, this wild, arrogant boy kept showing up in Cynthia's life—in the cafeteria, in the library, everywhere she went. He even trailed behind her on his motorcycle after school. He'd also show up when she was on cleaning duty, snatching the mop from her hands. "It's late. I'll take you home." He'd press an umbrella into her hands on rainy days, running off in the downpour himself. "Take it—don't catch a cold." On her birthday, he secretly left a box of chocolates on her desk, along with a note: "Happy birthday, Cynthia." Cynthia had never dated anyone before—she fell for him so easily. She thought they had a future together. But reality hit her like a slap in the face! Just then, her phone rang. Her homeroom teacher's voice came through the phone. "Cynthia, your scores are good enough for Stanford University. Today's the last day to submit your application, and there are only ten minutes left. I'm asking one last time—are you sure you want to walk away from Stanford?" Cynthia froze, suddenly remembering how, after the SAT, Graham's scores were good enough for Stanford, too, but he'd chosen a school ranked below Stanford. She'd asked him why, and he'd simply said, "That school has the major I like." Now she realized Jennifer had gotten into that school, and he wanted to spend the years there with her. And the joke was, Cynthia had changed her application so she could be with Graham. Cynthia took a deep breath, her voice calm. "No, I want to go to Stanford University!" This time, she chose to let Graham go. Her teacher was overjoyed. "I'm glad you've thought it through! Hurry and change your application." Cynthia pulled out her phone and changed her application right before the system closed, then went home alone. In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and slowly took off her glasses. She had delicate features, flawless skin, and clear, almond-shaped eyes framed by long, thick lashes. No one at this school knew how stunning her face was beneath the glasses. Ever since middle school, she'd worn glasses to pass as a nerd, after boys had harassed her for her looks. She had intended to show Graham her real face once they got to college. Now, there was no need to do that anymore. Chapter 2 For the next few days, Graham didn't come back. But every day, Cynthia saw him on Jennifer's Instagram. There he was, supporting Jennifer as they strolled down the hospital hallway; there he was, slicing apples at her bedside, his profile gentle and focused; there he was, listening to Jennifer with a soft, attentive gaze... Every photo felt like a knife twisting in Cynthia's heart. She started packing up her things. The sexy lingerie Graham had bought her, the jewelry he'd given her tucked away in the drawers, the lighter he'd carelessly left on her nightstand—one by one, she tossed them into a trash bag. The last thing was the necklace Graham had given her on her birthday. "My little genius," he'd said that day, fastening it around her neck with a roguish grin, "from now on, you're only allowed to wear what I give you." Cynthia carried the box out of the apartment, dumped everything into the garbage bin, and turned to leave—only to walk straight into a wall of muscle. "What are you throwing out? You look so serious." A familiar voice rumbled above her, deep and laid-back. Cynthia froze, slowly looking up into Graham's dark, amused eyes. He stood there with one hand in his pocket, a cigarette dangling between the fingers of the other. Smoke curled around his handsome, rebellious face—the same face that used to make her heart race. Now, Cynthia just felt a tightness in her throat, as if something was blocking her breath. "Nothing important. Just some things I don't need anymore." She looked away, her tone calm. Graham glanced at the trash bin, his brows furrowing for a moment before relaxing again. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "Are you mad at me?" Cynthia turned her head, dodging his hand. His arm hung awkwardly in the air, a flicker of annoyance crossing his eyes before he quickly suppressed it. "I messed up last time. Jenny's stomach started hurting out of nowhere. Our families go way back—it would have looked bad if I hadn't gone." He paused, his voice softening a bit. "I was in a rush and forgot to unlock your cuffs. "How'd you get out? Did you hurt yourself?" He reached for her wrist, but Cynthia pulled her arm back. "I'm fine." Graham's frown deepened. Was he imagining things? Cynthia used to rely on him so much—she'd pout and complain, eyes red with tears, always wanting him to comfort her. But now... she was actually avoiding him? He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang in his pocket. "Graham! Why aren't you down here yet?" Jennifer's playful voice came through the receiver. "I've been waiting forever!" He hung up and looked at Cynthia, his tone casual. "Jenny's sick of being stuck in the hospital. She's getting discharged today and insists on going to an escape room. The more, the merrier. You coming?" Cynthia wanted to refuse, but Graham didn't give her the chance. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. "The college entrance exams are over. Stop burying your head in books—come relax." He shoved her into the car. As Cynthia looked up, she saw Jennifer sitting in the front passenger seat, flashing her a fake smile. "Sorry, I get carsick. You'll have to take the back seat." Cynthia said nothing and quietly slid into the back. The car started up. Graham had only recently gotten his license, and Jennifer spent the whole drive teasing him. "Graham, you'd better be careful behind the wheel. I'm too young to die with you." Graham chuckled. "Don't worry. I'd never let anything happen to you." Jennifer fluttered her lashes. "Then I'll trust you with my life." She rummaged in the console for snacks, and Graham didn't stop her. He even handed her a bottle of water, thoughtful and attentive. Cynthia watched, feeling a thousand tiny needles prick her heart. She remembered last time, when she'd tried eating cookies in Graham's car. He'd tossed all the snacks out the window. "Baby, I hate crumbs in my car." So this was it—when it came to Jennifer, every rule suddenly didn't matter. Chapter 3 Half an hour later, the car pulled up smoothly in front of the escape room venue. Cynthia had barely stepped out when she spotted Jennifer and her friends already waiting at the entrance. "Well, well, isn't that our little miss valedictorian?" A girl with a high ponytail covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Not buried in your books today?" "She's Graham's girlfriend now," another girl chimed in with a biting tone. "She can't be a nerd anymore, or he'll dump her." Cynthia gripped the straps of her backpack and walked straight past them. Since she'd started dating Graham, she'd heard those jabs more times than she could count. Everyone seemed to think that only someone like Jennifer, the school's golden girl, was worthy of Graham. What right did Cynthia have, with her black-rimmed glasses and bookish looks? The staff handed out blindfolds, guiding everyone into the escape room. As darkness fell, Cynthia's heart began to race, her fingers clutching at the hem of her shirt. "Take off your blindfolds," came the instruction over the intercom. Cynthia removed hers, but her vision was still swallowed by pitch black. "Ah!" Jennifer screamed suddenly, flinging herself into Graham's arms. "It's so dark! I'm scared!" Graham chuckled softly, holding her close. "Don't worry, I'm here." Cynthia stood frozen, feeling as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart. It wasn't that she wasn't afraid—she simply knew that even if she was, no one would step up to protect her. Out of nowhere, an NPC with hair covering their face lunged from the shadows. Before Cynthia could react, someone shoved her hard from behind. She stumbled, crashing to the floor, her knee slamming into the hard ground. The pain made her suck in a sharp breath. "Cindy? Are you okay?" Graham's voice sounded distant. Cynthia was about to answer when Jennifer's friends cut in, their voices overlapping. "What could possibly be wrong with her?" "Exactly, forget about her—let's solve the puzzle!" "Jenny's scared out of her mind, let's get out of here!" Their footsteps faded away. Cynthia gritted her teeth and struggled to her feet, only to realize everyone else had gone on ahead. The darkness felt like an impenetrable net, trapping her completely. "Help..." Her voice was drowned out by the eerie background sounds. Suddenly, a pair of hands shoved her again! Cynthia tumbled into a freezing cold room. Before she could regain her bearings, Jennifer and her friends rushed in, slamming the door shut with a loud click. "What are you doing?" Cynthia's voice trembled. The girls laughed lightly, pulling a remote from a pocket with deliberate slowness. "We've been waiting to teach you a lesson. Finally got our chance today." They crowded around, forcing Cynthia into an electric chair and strapping down her arms and legs. "Let me go!" Cynthia struggled, but she was outnumbered. The moment they hit the switch, a jolt of electricity surged through her body, and Cynthia screamed uncontrollably. "Graham!" She called out his name instinctively. "Help me..." Footsteps halted outside the door. "Cindy?" Graham's voice came through. "Are you in there?" Cynthia opened her mouth to reply, but outside, Jennifer suddenly cried out in pain. "Ow!" "What's wrong?" Graham's voice instantly turned anxious. "I twisted my ankle," Jennifer whimpered. "It's fine, you go find Cynthia..." "Find Cynthia for what?" Graham replied without hesitation. "I'll get you out first and see how bad it is. Cynthia's an adult—she can get out on her own." His footsteps faded away. Jennifer's friends burst out laughing. "See? To Graham, you're not even worth a strand of Jenny's hair!" The electric current hit Cynthia again, and this time she couldn't hold on. She blacked out. --- When she came to, she was lying in the escape room's lounge, with a staff member looking at her in concern. "Are you alright? When we found you, you'd already passed out." Cynthia shook her head and forced herself to stand. Outside, rain poured down. She had no umbrella, so she walked home drenched. Inside the apartment, Graham was sprawled on the sofa playing video games. He didn't even look up when he heard her come in. "Where've you been? I've been looking for you." Cynthia stood in the entryway, rainwater dripping off her, pooling into a small puddle on the floor. "I was tied up in an electric chair by Jennifer's friends." The game sounds cut off abruptly. Graham turned, eyeing her soaked state from head to toe, then suddenly laughed. He set down the controller and walked over, pinching her cheek. "When did our little genius learn to joke around?" "I'm not joking." Cynthia slapped his hand away. Graham just shrugged, leaning in to kiss her. "Alright, alright, you're not joking. My fault for not protecting you—got zapped as a penalty for losing the game, huh?" Cynthia turned her head, dodging his kiss so it landed on her wet hair instead. "I don't feel well. I don't want to." Graham's eyes went cold for a moment, but then he put on that familiar, careless grin. "Fine. We'll wait until you feel better." The days that followed felt like a silent tug-of-war. Every time Graham tried to get close, Cynthia pushed him away with "I'm not feeling well." At first, he was patient, coaxing her gently—until the fifth night. "How long are you going to keep this up?" Graham pinned her to the bed, his breath hot against her neck, his tone dangerous. Cynthia shoved him away. "I said I don't want to." His face darkened instantly; the slam of the door rattled the windows. They fell into a full-blown cold war. Three days passed in silence until Cynthia's friend called out of the blue. "Cindy! Something happened! Check the campus website!" With trembling fingers, Cynthia opened the site. The top trending headline made her eyes widen in shock. "Liberty High's Valedictorian's Private Photos Leaked! Innocent Image Shattered!" The attached photo was her in bed with Graham. Chapter 4 Even though the crucial areas were censored and Graham's face was deliberately blurred, anyone who knew Cynthia could instantly recognize her. The comments section was flooded with vile insults. "So high and mighty in public, but such a slut behind closed doors?" "Damn, look at that pose. Guess our little miss valedictorian is wilder than we thought..." "Heard Cynthia was sleeping around since freshman year. These must be those freshman year spy shots. So shameless. Why would Graham even go for her?!" Cynthia's whole body shook; her phone nearly slipped from her grasp. It was her first time facing something like this. Her mind went blank, and the only thought that remained was—she had to get those photos taken down. She immediately contacted the campus website administrator, but they politely replied, "Sorry... that post can't be removed." The public outrage only grew, leaving Cynthia with nowhere to turn. She had no choice but to seek out Graham. He was lounging on the couch playing video games, and when she stood before him, pale and trembling, he raised an eyebrow. "Well? Need something from me?" Cynthia clutched the hem of her shirt, her voice barely audible. "The photos on the campus site... can you help me get them taken down?" Graham put down his phone, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Baby, if you want something, you've got to show a little effort, right?" His gaze roamed over her, shameless and obvious. Cynthia bit down hard on her lip, her nails digging into her palm. She knew exactly what he wanted—and she knew she had no other options. Forcing herself, she slowly undressed and climbed onto his lap. --- After a night of madness, Cynthia woke in a daze. Graham was standing by the bed, getting dressed. When he saw her eyes open, he leaned down and kissed her neck, marked with his bites. "Be good, get some more sleep. The photos are gone now. This won't happen again." Cynthia finally felt the weight lift off her chest. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. She didn't know how much time had passed before she was startled awake by a commotion outside. "Gray, you've slept with Cynthia long enough. You've got plenty of experience now—why not just break up after this cold war? Why keep going back to her? Don't tell me... You actually like her?" Cynthia froze, holding her breath. Outside the door, Graham was silent for a moment before he let out a dismissive laugh. "Of course not." He paused, his voice lazy. "I just wanted to try out more positions so I could please Jenny later." Cynthia's mind exploded in a burst of static, everything going blank. "Graham was the one who leaked those photos? "He ruined her reputation on purpose, just to learn a few tricks for Jennifer?!" She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, but her body wouldn't stop trembling. She stumbled backward, her elbow knocking over the cosmetics on her vanity. Crash! The sharp sound of breaking glass was painfully loud in the room. Suddenly, everything outside went silent. "... Cynthia didn't wake up, did she?" one of the guys whispered. "No way," Graham replied confidently, but his footsteps drew closer to the bedroom. Cynthia tensed, quickly sliding back under the covers and feigning sleep. The door creaked open. Graham stood in the doorway, his gaze falling on her. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. "Tch, just the dumb cat," Graham muttered, striding over to scoop up the cat that had jumped onto the vanity. "Don't wake her up." When the door closed again, Cynthia slowly opened her eyes. Tears silently soaked her pillow. --- The next day, Graham took her to the graduation dinner. Cynthia wanted to refuse, but knowing she'd never see these classmates again, she went. At the table, Graham doted on Jennifer—serving her food, pouring her drinks, acting almost absurdly attentive. "Graham, shouldn't you look after Cynthia too?" someone joked. "Aren't you afraid your girlfriend will get jealous?" "Yeah, anyone watching would think Jennifer's your girlfriend!" "But honestly, you and Jenny do make a better couple..." Cynthia sat expressionless, as if none of it concerned her. Only then did Graham perfunctorily place a few pieces of food on her plate—all seafood. Cynthia stared at the shrimp and crab, feeling her heart squeezed in a vise. She was allergic to seafood. Graham had never known. Of course, he'd only ever come to her for s*x. They barely spoke—how could he know what she liked or didn't like? How could she have been so naïve—how could she ever think he'd truly cared for her? Chapter 5 After dinner, everyone started playing Truth or Dare. Cynthia lost the very first round. "Dare! Take off your glasses!" the guys whooped, their voices full of excitement. "Three years of high school, and you even sleep with those on. Tonight, you have to let us see your real face!" Cynthia froze. Take off her glasses? No way... "I'll drink instead," she said quietly. "Three bottles of beer—are you sure?" someone teased with a sly grin. "You're a lightweight. One glass and you're done. Don't push yourself." Cynthia pressed her lips together and reached for the beer, but Graham suddenly stepped in to stop her. "I'll drink for her." Jennifer immediately grabbed his arm. "You lost the game, you can't play favorites!" "Yeah! No helping!" the others chimed in. Graham frowned but eventually withdrew his hand. Cynthia took a deep breath and tipped back three bottles of beer. The alcohol burned her throat and churned in her stomach. She forced herself not to vomit, but her face turned ghostly pale. "I need the restroom," she muttered, stumbling to her feet and nearly collapsing as she rushed to the bathroom, where she clung to the toilet and vomited until her world spun. When she finally managed to recover and stepped out of the stall, a guy blocked her at the sink—the same one who'd demanded she take off her glasses earlier. "Cynthia, had too much to drink? Want me to help you back?" he said, smiling with fake concern, but his hand reached for her glasses. "They're all crooked. Let me take them off and clean them for you." "No!" Cynthia jerked away, but her drunken body was too weak to resist. He grabbed her wrist and yanked the glasses right off her face. Bang! Graham burst in out of nowhere, landing a punch squarely on the guy's face. "You think you can touch my girlfriend? Are you out of your mind?!" The guy screamed and crashed to the floor, while Cynthia collapsed too, vision swimming in a blur. Her glasses... were gone. Graham bent down, picked them up, and reached out to help her. "Are you okay? Let me put these back on." Cynthia frantically covered her face. "I'll do it myself!" She kept her head down, refusing to let him see her eyes. Graham frowned. "What's the difference if I help?" "N-no, I don't need help..." Cynthia's voice shook. "I'm too ugly... I might scare you..." Graham sighed. "You really think I'd judge you for that?" But Cynthia wouldn't budge, so Graham finally handed her the glasses. "Fine, you do it. I'll wait outside." Once he left, Cynthia slowly lowered her hands. The girl in the mirror had porcelain skin, delicate features, and clear almond-shaped eyes framed by long, thick lashes—so breathtakingly beautiful it almost didn't seem real. She hurriedly put her glasses back on, and the stunning face vanished behind the thick lenses, turning her back into the forgettable "nerd." Drawing a shaky breath, she turned to grab her bag and leave. But as she rounded the hallway corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. Just ahead, Graham was holding up a drunken Jennifer, his brow furrowed. "Why did you drink so much?" Jennifer shoved him away, her voice choked with tears. "Why do you care? You have a girlfriend now! Go take care of her instead!" Graham let out a helpless sigh. "I don't like her. I'm with her for a reason. You'll understand someday." "You don't like her?" Jennifer snorted. "Then why'd you stand up for her and punch that guy?" Graham paused, mouth open, but couldn't find the words. Jennifer's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Just admit it. You like her." With that, she turned to leave, but Graham quickly reached out to grab her. Jennifer slipped, falling straight into Graham's arms. Their lips met, unexpectedly, in a kiss. Chapter 6 Standing in the shadows, Cynthia felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart until it hurt. Graham didn't push Jennifer away—instead, he deepened the kiss. It was nothing like the rough, possessive way he'd kissed her before. Now, Graham was gentle, as if he were holding something precious and fragile. Of course... Every move, every technique, he'd perfected on her. And now, he was using the kisses he'd learned from her to kiss the girl he truly cared about. Cynthia couldn't watch any longer. She turned and hurried away. She stood at the curb, trying to hail a cab as the cold wind stung her eyes red. "Cindy!" Graham's voice called out from behind. She didn't turn around, only clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "Why'd you leave without saying anything?" Graham strode up, frowning slightly. "I saw you were having fun, so I didn't want to interrupt," she replied calmly, as if she hadn't seen anything at all. Graham studied her for a few seconds, then suddenly grabbed her hand. "If you're gone, what's left to do? I'll take you home." Before she could refuse, he'd already bundled her into the car. Just as he was about to start the engine, Jennifer came running out, her cheeks still flushed. "Graham, my driver can't make it tonight," she bit her lip, "Can I ride with you guys?" Graham nodded without hesitation, then turned to Cynthia. "Jenny gets carsick. You sit in the back." Cynthia silently got out and moved to the back seat, her heart stabbing with pain. She got carsick too—but Graham never remembered. The whole ride, Graham's attention was completely on Jennifer, handing her water and tissues, gently asking if she felt okay. Cynthia sat in the back, like she was invisible. Halfway there, Jennifer scrolled through her phone, deliberately liking videos of cute guys, then showed her screen to Graham. "What do you think of this guy? Would he be a good match for me?" Graham glanced at it, his expression darkening instantly. "Not a chance." Jennifer giggled and teased, "Well, I have to date someone, right? College starts soon." "Just wait," Graham said with certainty. "When school starts, you'll meet someone better." Jennifer looked confused, but Cynthia understood perfectly. When college started, he'd break up with her—and then chase Jennifer openly. It felt like her heart was being torn apart, the pain suffocating. Jennifer noticed how pale Cynthia looked and pretended to be considerate. "Graham, you should talk to Cynthia, too. She's your girlfriend." Only then did Graham realize he'd ignored Cynthia. He started to speak— Bang! A sudden crash shook the car! They'd been rear-ended! In a split second, Graham instinctively lunged for the passenger seat, shielding Jennifer tightly in his arms. Cynthia's head slammed into the back of the seat. Everything went black. --- The next thing she knew, the sharp scent of antiseptic filled her nose. Cynthia slowly opened her eyes to see Graham sitting at her bedside, his expression complicated. "You're awake?" His voice was low. "Sorry. It all happened so fast—I didn't have time to think. Jenny was closest to me, so I..." "So you instinctively protected Jennifer, right?" Cynthia finished, her voice calm. Graham pressed his lips together, not denying it. Suddenly, his phone rang—Jennifer was calling. Graham answered, frowning. "Okay, I'll be right there." He hung up and stood. "Jenny's shaken up. I'm going to check on her. I'll be back soon." Cynthia said nothing, just slowly closed her eyes. Chapter 7 Graham was gone for several days. All Cynthia could do was scroll through Jennifer's Instagram, seeing photo after photo of Graham doting on her. He fed her soup. He took her for walks. He gently tousled her hair. Every image felt like a knife twisting deeper into Cynthia's heart. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, Graham finally showed up and told her he was taking her to Jennifer's birthday party. The party was dazzling—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, a towering champagne fountain glimmered in the light, and everyone whispered that the event had cost over six figures, personally organized by Graham for Jennifer. "I heard the gift Graham gave her is worth 150,000 dollars!" "He really goes all out for Jennifer." Cynthia stood in a corner, listening to the chatter, watching as Graham fastened a diamond necklace around Jennifer's neck with his own hands. "How did you know I've always wanted this?" Jennifer asked, her voice bubbling with delight. Graham smiled, impossibly gentle. "Because I remember everything you like." Down below, Jennifer's friends shot Cynthia smug, challenging looks. "See that? This party, that necklace—girls like you will never even get close to something like this." "If you have any sense, you'll leave Graham now. You're not good enough for him." Cynthia gripped her wine glass so tightly her nails nearly broke the skin of her palm. "It's not that I'm not good enough for him. It's that he's not good enough for me." The girls erupted in laughter, as if she'd just told the world's funniest joke. Cynthia ignored them and turned to leave the ballroom. The night air was cool. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. Suddenly, a drunk man stumbled into her path. "Hey there, all by yourself?" Cynthia took a step back, her voice cold. "Move." The man swayed, finally focusing on her face—on the thick black glasses. Disgust twisted his features. "Damn, I thought you were a hottie. Turns out you're just a freak!" His gaze roamed over her, and he leered as he stepped closer. "Still, nice figure..." Cynthia struggled desperately, but the man slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground. "Quit acting so high and mighty!" Just as he lunged at her, a dark figure charged in, sending the man sprawling with a single punch. "You must have a death wish!" Graham's voice was ice-cold, his fists raining down on the man until blood covered his face. Only then did Graham stop, tossing the man to the bodyguards. He turned to help Cynthia up, his brow furrowed in concern. "Why didn't you call for me when you were in danger?" Cynthia looked into his anxious eyes, feeling nothing but sorrow. "Would it have made a difference? "In your heart, I'll always come after Jennifer," she thought silently. Seeing Cynthia silent, Graham assumed she was in pain. His voice softened, rare tenderness in his tone. "Wait here. I'll get you some medicine." He hurried off, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Cynthia forced herself to sit up, her knees and arms burning with fresh scrapes. She didn't want to stay a moment longer. Bracing herself against the wall, she made her way toward the exit. She'd barely reached the door when Jennifer blocked her path. "So, you think just because Graham saved you once, he actually cares about you?" Jennifer sneered, her eyes full of contempt. "Don't kid yourself. You and he are from two different worlds. Break up with him before you embarrass yourself." Cynthia didn't bother to argue and simply stepped aside to leave. Jennifer, shocked that Cynthia would dare ignore her, seethed with rage and grabbed her wrist. "I said stop!" On instinct, Cynthia jerked free, but Jennifer suddenly lost her balance and tumbled toward the staircase. In a panic, she grabbed at Cynthia's shirt, and the two of them went crashing down the stairs together. Bang! The loud crash drew a crowd. Graham rushed back with the medicine, only to see the scene unfold. Jennifer was sprawled on the floor, her knee scraped and bleeding, while Cynthia, dragged down as well, had blood streaming down her arm. Graham's face changed instantly. He rushed forward, but the first person he helped up was Jennifer. "What happened?!" Chapter 8 Jennifer's eyes instantly filled with tears, her voice trembling as she choked out, "Graham... I—I don't know why Cynthia suddenly pushed me..." Cynthia's pupils contracted. Fighting through the pain, she tried to explain, "I didn't push her! She fell on her own and pulled me down with her!" "Enough!" Graham cut her off coldly, his eyes dark and accusing as he glared at Cynthia. "Not only did you bully Jenny, but now you're trying to smear her name? Cynthia, when did you become so cruel?" Cynthia opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked, and she couldn't get a single word out. Graham was already scooping Jennifer into his arms, striding away without looking back. He tossed out one last sentence, "No one's allowed to help her. Let her learn her lesson." With Graham's orders, no one dared come to Cynthia's aid. Gritting her teeth, Cynthia dragged her injured leg and forced herself out. The night wind stung her wounds, making her shiver uncontrollably. She flagged down a cab and headed straight for the nearest hospital. "Is there a doctor available?" she asked, clutching the wall, cold sweat pouring from the pain. The nurse looked at her apologetically. "We're not accepting patients tonight. All our doctors have been called by Mr. Jewett for a consultation with Ms. Branson..." Cynthia stood in the empty ER, barely able to stay upright from the pain. She let out a bitter laugh, but tears streamed down her face. She didn't know how long she stood there before she turned and limped out of the hospital, walking two blocks before finally finding a pharmacy that was still open. "Hi, I need some antibiotics and gauze, please." Back at her apartment, Cynthia curled up on the sofa, biting down on a towel as she disinfected her wounds. The instant the alcohol swab touched her skin, the pain was so intense her vision went black and tears spilled down her cheeks. Just like her feelings for Graham. Letting go hurt—hurt so much she felt like she was being torn apart. But once the wounds healed, there would be a new dawn. --- Three days later, the scabs had formed on her knees, and Cynthia headed to the mall. Stanford University might be on the West Coast, but the winters there were still chilly, so she needed to buy some warm clothes. She had just walked into a store when she heard a familiar laugh. "Graham, does this look good?" Jennifer spun in front of the mirror, holding up a beige dress. Graham leaned lazily against a clothing rack, a relaxed smile on his lips. "Looks great." He looked up, and his eyes met Cynthia's. Almost instinctively, he moved Jennifer behind him, as if shielding her. "What are you doing here?" "Shopping for clothes," Cynthia replied calmly, picking up a long down coat. Jennifer glanced at the shopping bag in Cynthia's hand, pretending to be surprised. "Huh? Isn't our school in the South? The temperatures don't really change much—why buy something so heavy?" Cynthia said nothing. She didn't want to tell them she hadn't even applied to that university. At the register, Graham reached for her bill. "Let me get it." Cynthia stepped aside. "No need." "Why are you fighting me on this?" Graham's face darkened. "You think I care about a little money?" Cynthia swiped her own card. "Don't bother. I won't spend your money ever again." Graham frowned, about to argue, but Jennifer interrupted, "Graham, we need to hurry. Our flight's about to leave." He gave Cynthia a long look, finally tossing out, "Don't let this happen again." Cynthia gave a faint, silent smile. Outside the mall, Graham ushered Jennifer into the car. Just before leaving, he seemed to remember something and called out to Cynthia, "I've been helping Jenny pack these past few days, so I forgot to tell you—she wants to get familiar with campus early, so we booked our tickets for today. You should wait until orientation and come then. I'll have the butler pick you up." "Okay," Cynthia replied blandly. Graham turned and got in the car, calling out as he left, "See you at school." Cynthia watched the taillights fade into the distance and whispered, "Let's never meet again." --- On the day classes started, Cynthia packed her last suitcase. Everything that belonged to her was gone from the apartment—not even a strand of hair left behind. Her phone buzzed—Graham's message. "Cindy, today's move-in day. I've sent the butler to take you to the airport." The doorbell rang right on time. "Ms. Shanley, the car is ready," the butler said respectfully at the door. Cynthia handed him an envelope. "Please give this to Graham." The butler looked surprised. "What does this mean... You're not going to school?" "I never planned to attend that university." Inside the envelope was a single line. "Graham, let's break up. I know you treated me like a tool, but I treated you like a toy, too—thanks for the experience. Let's not see each other again." Without another word, she walked away and got into a cab. Inside, Cynthia pulled out her phone. She deleted every photo of Graham's smirking face, every lazy voice message, every pinned chat—erased it all. Finally, she broke the phone SIM card she'd used for years and tossed it out the window without hesitation. The cab sped toward the airport, sunlight streaming through the window, warm and bright on her skin. A new city. A new school. A new life. Everything was about to begin again.8.6K reach

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I was riding the viibrator, lost in the fantasy that it was Daddy f*cking me, when he suddenly burst into my room. Panicked, I fumbled for the remote to shut it off, but hit the wrong button and made it buzz even harder. Tears streaming, I begged, “Daddy, please help me…” He stood there dripping wet in just his swim trunks, water still running down his chest. But Dad approached and said without a second's hesitation. “Anything, baby, Daddy will help you with anything.” Laura’s POV “Oh, there she is, the wannabe bigshot. You’re moving to California? All the way from Illinois? Really? You think you can make it, Laura?” The moment I stepped through the door, sharp words flew at me like knives. In just a week, I was leaving home for college — a thousand kilometers away — and that had completely enraged my controlling mother. She had been yelling about it nonstop for three weeks. “I’m telling you, don’t expect a single penny from me!” “Let the kid alone, Nancy,” David called out from the outside, his tone carrying a warning. She glared at me, muttered something under her breath, and finally stormed out. When I was six, David became my stepfather. I never understood why a man like him would marry my mother. She was beautiful, yes — but also sharp-tongued and unbearable. David, on the other hand, was tall, gentle, and effortlessly charming. There was something grounding about him, something that made me feel safe. The rumble of a car faded away outside. “She’s got a party tonight,” David said, walking over and patting my shoulder gently. “She’ll probably get drunk and crash there, so you can relax a bit.” My throat tightened. I sniffed softly instead of answering. David sighed and opened his arms to me. “Come on, baby girl,” he said. “Give Daddy a hug.” David smiled warmly, so I jumped up like I did when I was little and threw myself into his arms. He caught my asss steady and hoisted me higher. I locked my legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and buried my face in the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in deep—I’d always loved the way he smelled, that same faint cologne for years, like sunshine and fresh-cut grass. Maybe he’d just mowed the lawn; I rested my head on his shoulder, thinking that. “I gotta say, you’re a hell of a lot heavier than when you were little,” David teased, tossing me up just a bit before pretending he couldn’t hold on and starting to lower me to the floor. I clung to his neck, refusing to let go. “No way—I’ve been dieting all summer! The scale says I’ve dropped ten pounds!” I squealed, wriggling against him. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck, clinging like I never wanted to let go—I knew I’d miss David a thousand times more than Mom. I pressed myself to him like a koala, legs locked hard around his lean, powerful waist, and felt my cheeks flush. By then, something was wedged hard against my pusy. I thought it was just David’s belt buckle, so I squirmed on instinct, trying to ease the pressure, but it wasn’t cold metal—it was thick, alive, swelling heavier every time I moved…And then I remembered: he was only wearing sweatpants today. I realized something, my face burned, but I didn’t stop. I squeezed Daddy’s waist tighter with my thighs and gave my little asss another wiggle. Daddy suddenly landed a sharp smack on it.“Settle down, Laura—you’re about to slip right out of Daddy’s arms.” As if to prove it, he leaned forward, against me the wall behind, pinning me even deeper into his embrace. His big hands gripped the tops of my thighs like he was scared I’d fall. His body ground against mine, that stiff diick shoving against my panties—I was in a short skirt that day, no safety shorts. Through just that thin scrap of fabric, I swore he was almost inside. The thought drove me wild; my panties were soaked through. “There we go, good girl—don’t stay mad at your mom. We’ll figure something out.” Daddy suddenly set me down. He ruffled my hair gently, then stepped behind the kitchen counter, hiding his lower half. “—what’re you in the mood for lunch? Takeout, or you brave enough to suffer my cooking?” I watched David head to the stove, his tank top damp from working on some project, clinging to every ridge of muscle and the strong line of his back. My mind flashed unstoppably to those powerful hands and that hard coc/k from a minute ago; my cheeks were on fire. That filthy little thought I’d shoved down a thousand times reared its head again… “Anything’s fine—yours is great,” I mumbled, then bolted upstairs. “I’ll be down for lunch!” “Bam!” I slammed the door, flung myself face-first into the bed, and screamed silently into the pillow. I wanted David. I mean, I wanted my stepdad to f*ck me. This wasn’t the first time the thought had hit me. The very first time Shirley and I snuck an A-movie, I realized the man I pictured pinning me to the sheets, the man I imagined sliding his fingers through my soaked folds, hoisting my legs over his shoulders and pounding me senseless… was my dad. At first I couldn’t stomach it. I avoided David like the plague. He was the perfect father; I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But David noticed I was dodging him. One morning he drove me to school, and when we pulled up he leaned across to unbuckle my seatbelt. His broad shoulders folded around me like a blanket, and he asked softly, “What’s going on with my little girl? Did Daddy do something wrong?” I knew I was done for. *** My hand slipped into my panties like it had a mind of its own, finding my cliit, but the longer I rubbed the more frustrated I got. Coming just wasn’t cutting it anymore. I remembered what Shirley told me last time: “Trust me, girl, you need a viibrator. Especially for a coward like you who won’t jump her own stepdad. Just pretend it’s Daddy’s diick inside you.” I bit my lip and reached under the pillow for my phone. Maybe I really should… Wait, when did I even order anything? I opened a delivery notification from two hours ago: package out for delivery, ETA 12 p.m. today. My phone had been on silent all day. I switched to WhatsApp. There it was, Shirley at 10 a.m.: “Hey Laura, I knew you’d chicken out, so I bought the viibrator for you. It’ll be delivered today. Have fun exploring before college! Don’t thank me too hard ;)” I glanced at the clock on the wall, 12:10 p.m. Thank God, maybe it’s running late…I’d better haul asss downstairs right now; no way in hell am I letting David sign for that package. Then the doorbell downstairs rang like a horror-movie jump scare. “Hey, good afternoon! It’s Delivery.” No way!!! Chapter 2 Laura’s POV The doorbell rang, and the race downstairs began. I rushed out of my room frantically, my feet flying across the staircase. I arrived at the front door, but to my horror, David was already opening the door to get the package. I nearly crashed into him as I hurried to snatch it from the rug. I tucked it under my arm, and he frowned playful. “In a hurry, are we?” I just smiled. What else could I do? He looked so good just standing there in a plain white shirt and old faded jeans. His hair was wet, swept up over his handsome face. His blue eyes twinkled as he tried to peek at my package label. “What’s that?” David asked gently. “Stuff for college,” I murmured. “Just getting everything ready, you know. Just in case.” The mischief vanished from his eyes. He walked closer to me, and the smell of his shower gel filled my nose. I looked up at him, clenching my hands. He was so close that I could even feel the heat rolling off his skin. My heart hammered like it was trying to break out of my chest. Maybe because David had just laid his big hand on my head, or maybe because of what I was clutching in my lap, but I can only prayed he couldn’t hear the frantic thud. His palm settled on my hair, warm and steady. “Don’t take your mother’s words too seriously.” His voice was smooth, deep. Se/xy. “I’m going to pay for everything and make sure you go to college. Even though I’ll miss you.” “Thank you.” I bit my lip, the tapered tenderness of his tone making my skin tingle. But when I remembered what I was holding, I just wanted to bolt straight back upstairs. I clutched the package tight and inched backward, slow as hell. “I’m just going to… put this away.” “Of course. Then come on down for lunch, OK? I made your favorite Bolognese. It’s just you and me today and tonight. Maybe we can spend some time together.” “Got it, I will!” I didn’t even let him finish the sentence before I bolted upstairs, crammed the package deep into the back of my closet, and finally exhaled. Thank God. My heart finally dropped out of my throat and settled back to where it belonged. *** Lunch was the same as every time Mom went out: Daddy had made all my favorites. The kitchen smelled like rich Bolognese, and he’d even whipped up the strawberry pudding I loved. But I barely tasted any of it. I just kept poking at the pasta, my head stuck on that hug this morning, on whatever had been pressing between my legs, and on the viibrator now hiding upstairs… “You okay, Laura?” David leaned in suddenly, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, like he could see every filthy thought flashing through my brain.“N-no, I’m fine, just… tired,” I stammered, shoving a huge forkful of spaghetti into my mouth to hide how I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I might just need a little nap.” “Your cheeks are bright red. Thought you might be coming down with something.” He gave me an easy smile. “Want some pudding?” “Oh, yes, please! I mean, I’ll take it upstairs. Yeah, I’m full. Just gonna read and eat in my room.” I scarfed the last of the pasta, grabbed the pudding, and stood up fast. I’m a terrible liar; one more question and I’d crack. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be in the basement fixing that cabinet if you need anything.” Thank God he let it drop. I darted over, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, muttered “Thanks, Daddy,” and bolted before he could say another word. *** I slipped back into my room and ripped open the box. I’d watched women use every kind of toy in pourn, but this was the first time one was actually in my hands. I tore through the plastic and pulled out the silicone coc/k. My face went up in flames… Shirley was insane. She’d bought a hyper-realistic one. Every raised vein and ridge made me flash straight back to this afternoon, to Daddy’s hard length grinding against me…I must’ve hit something, because it suddenly roared to life, buzzing hard and warming up fast.“Shit!” I fumbled to shut it off just as my phone lit up: Shirley. “Hey Law! Oh my god, what’s that noise? Don’t tell me you’re already breaking it in!” Shirley cackled through the phone. My face went nuclear; I scrambled to kill the speaker. Thank God Daddy was still clanking around downstairs. “This is insane! When did you even buy this? I thought you were joking last time!” I hissed into the receiver. Shirley just snickered on the other end. “Come on, by the time you work up that pathetic scrap of courage and squeeze a few bucks out of those sad little part-time jobs that barely pay your bills? you’ll probably have already slept with the real thing anyway! Speaking of which, does your mom seriously not give you a single cent? ”“She made it crystal clear ages ago she doesn’t want me leaving the city. Control freak, you know the drill.” I flopped onto my back, holding the fake dick up to the light. My heart was hammering. “But David told me he’d cover everything, so… it’s not that bad.” “Jesus, I’ve been saying it forever: he’s literally the perfect man. Hot, sweet, thoughtful… You’re really not gonna shoot your shot? You’re leaving in like two days.” “…He’d never go for it.” “Oh I’ve got an idea, listen,” Shirley dropped her voice into pure devil mode, “what if you invited your dad to play with the vibrator together? There’s a remote in the box, you see? Picture this: you slide that thing inside your pusy, then hand him the remote and tell him it’s for a drone or some boring shiit. He controls the buttons. He controls you. How f*cking hot is that?” My face was so hot I swear blood was about to drip from my cheeks. But before I could even squeak, a blast of party music and shouting poured through the line. “Gotta run, good girl. Think about it!” The line went dead, just the usual beep. Shirley was always racing off to the next party.I tossed the phone aside, flopped onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. But my eyes drifted, like they had a mind of their own, straight to that little remote sitting in the box. Chapter 3 Laura’s POV I hesitated forever, finally deciding to wait until tonight. Using the viibrator in broad daylight felt way too risky. Sure, part of me worried Daddy might find out… but another part, the part that scared me more, kept whispering: what if he does? I was pretty sure my thoughts had already out-crazied Shirley’s. David’s Bolognese really was incredible. I leaned against the headboard, sunshine pouring over me, and drifted off. A knock on the door snapped me awake. “Hey, Laura, can I come in?” “Yeah, Dad.” I was still half-lost in the dream where Daddy’s gentle hands slid up my shirt, his mouth closing over my niple, sucking hard while I soaked the sheets and he eased the viibrator inside me… Viibrator! I shot upright. Daddy was already stepping inside. I jerked my head away—thank God a pile of clothes had landed on the box, hiding it. I let out a shaky breath. “Coming down to swim? I cleaned the pool this afternoon.” He leaned against the doorframe, blue eyes smiling, collar half-open so I could see the hard slabs of his chest. He’d changed into swim trunks that clung to every inch of that heavy coc/k and tight asss. I wondered what it would look like bouncing when he moved… My face was on fire. Was he doing this on purpose? No way—he was just dressed for the pool. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes off him. “Uh… maybe later. Still waking up. Might lie here a bit longer,” I mumbled. “Anytime you want. Figured I could give you one last swimming lesson before college—last time you flailed around like a drowning duckling.” “I did not!” I squeaked, cheeks burning. David just laughed and left. The second he was gone I scrambled to the window. My room looked straight down onto the pool—perfect spying spot. Not spying, I corrected myself. Appreciating. Yeah, right. I have to say David really done an amazing job cleaning it. The water glowed gold in the late sun. David stripped down to just the trunks and waded in slow. The light painted warm edges over every cut of muscle. Water crept up his calves, thighs, that thick bulge, his narrow waist… He turned, scooped water over his head to cool off. Wet brown hair, droplets racing down his chest and abs, disappearing into the V swallowed by his waistband… “Jesus,” I groaned against the window, then collapsed back on the bed. My hand found the fake co/ck. I yanked my panties off. The instructions said to use lube the first time, but I was already drenched. I fumbled it in—nervous, clumsy, only the tip at first, a little sting. I breathed deep, relaxed, and finally worked the whole thing inside. It didn’t blow my mind right away like in por/n. I switched on the heat and the lowest setting. It started pulsing slow inside me. Downstairs I heard splashing—Daddy swimming— I shut my eyes and pictured him between my legs instead. The warmth from the toy made it feel real, like his body was actually there. My hands moved on their own, stroking myself exactly the way dream-Daddy had done this afternoon… “Hey, Laura, seen my goggles? I think I left them in your bag last time.” Daddy’s voice on the stairs, footsteps getting closer. In a panic, I only had time to yank the blanket over myself. “You napping again? You just napped the whole dam/n afternoon,” Daddy said from the doorway, eyebrows raised. He was standing there in nothing but a low-slung towel, skin still dripping from the pool, looking like he’d just stepped out of one of my filthiest daydreams. “Y-yeah, just… still kinda wiped out. Need a little more rest,” I stammered, the viibrator still hammering away inside me. I fumbled under the blanket for the remote, desperate to kiil it, but my thumb hit the wrong button and the dam/n thing surged harder. It slammed straight into that spot and my whole lower back went electric. I lifted my hips a fraction, trying to ease the pressure, biting down so hard on my lip I tasted blood to keep from moaning out loud. God, how the hell did I forget to lock the door?！ “You sure you’re okay, baby? You’re bright red—fever?” Daddy stepped closer, worry etched across his face. With every stride the towel shifted, flashing the thick, heavy bulge straining underneath. I instinctively scooted back, only to drop my full weight onto the viibrator again. A broken moan tore out of me before I could stop it. “Laura?!” He was at the bed in two strides, blue eyes wide. Water dripped from his hair onto those carved abs and vanished beneath the towel. He knelt beside me, cool fingers brushing my forehead, breath close enough to taste… My last thread of sanity was fraying, ready to snap. David’s body was so close it overloaded every nerve; I was trembling on the edge of coming just from the heat rolling off him. His cool fingertips against my burning skin felt like ice on fire. I dragged my arms out from under the blanket, looped them around his damp neck. My voice cracked, half sob, half plea. “Daddy… please, can you help me?” Tears of pure need in my eyes. I begged on a broken whimper, “Of course, baby. Anything,” he replied with no hesitation. Pleasure and need obliterated every shred of sanity, the last shred of control snapped. I threw the blanket off, grabbed his wrist, and pressed his big hand low on my belly. The buzzing toy gleamed between my legs, soaked and shameless. Daddy froze. I watched that se/xy throat bob hard, once, twice. “Daddy…” My voice cracked, desperate. “Help me.”6.5K reach

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Liberty High valedictorian nerd Cynthia Shanley and ultimate bad boy Graham Jewett hooked up right after graduation. In less than a month, they were in bed. He always got her n*ked the second her period ended, lace, toys, any position he craved. Tonight, Graham had her completely n*ked, wrists locked to the headboard with those playful pink cuffs he loved. He pinned her beneath him, moving rough and urgent, like he wanted to devour her whole. "Graham..." Her voice trembled, her fingers clutching the sheets tightly. "Slower... please..." He chuckled, nibbling her earlobe. "I can't slow down. This feels too good." Cynthia's ears burned, her heart pounding so hard it felt ready to burst from her chest. Just as she was lost in the moment, the shrill ring of Graham's phone split the air. He paused, annoyance flickering across his face as he glanced at the screen. But when he saw the caller ID, his expression changed instantly. He released Cynthia, rolled off the bed, and answered the call. "Jenny? What's wrong?" Jennifer Branson's voice came through, thick with tears. "Graham... My stomach hurts so bad. Can you come to the hospital and stay with me?" Graham's brow furrowed. "Wait for me. I'll be there soon." He hung up, grabbed his clothes, and threw them on. Then, without a glance at Cynthia, he turned and walked toward the door. "Graham!" Cynthia struggled, the handcuffs clinking sharply. "We..." Graham paused at the door, looked back at her, his tone dismissive. "Hang in there. I'll satisfy you later, okay?" And with that, he left without another word. The door slammed shut, plunging the room into sudden silence. Cynthia stared blankly at the ceiling, her wrists aching from the cuffs, but the pain in her chest was far worse. She'd been secretly seeing Graham for a year, but in that time, he'd left her for Jennifer countless times. Tonight, he probably wouldn't come back, just like all the nights before. Cynthia spent the whole night cuffed to the bed, her body growing cold, her head spinning. It wasn't until dawn that she managed to break free, stumbling to her feet, dressing herself, and heading to the hospital. She was burning up with fever, and her throat felt like it was on fire. The doctor prescribed medication and told her to get an IV. She wandered the hallway in a daze, clutching her paperwork, until she stopped dead in her tracks outside one of the rooms. Through the half-open door, she saw Graham. He sat by Jennifer's bedside, tall and lean in a black T-shirt that clung to his slim waist. His features were striking and roguish—high cheekbones, a straight, narrow nose, and lips twisted into a careless smirk. But now, this wild, reckless boy gazed at the sleeping Jennifer with profound tenderness. "Gray, you obviously like Jennifer very much—why are you dating Cynthia?" his buddy couldn't help but ask. "She's so plain, dresses like a nerd. Other than her grades, she's got nothing going for her." Graham snorted, leaning back lazily. "She's not much to look at, but her body's great. Perfect for practice." He paused, a wicked grin curling his lips. "Wouldn't want to hurt Jenny later because I don't know how to control myself." His friend clicked his tongue, teasing, "If her body's that good, why not let us have a look, too? Share the love, man." Graham laughed. "Get lost!" Outside the door, Cynthia felt her blood freeze. Graham's words sliced into her heart like a knife. She'd always thought Graham had done it with her because he loved her. But all those steamy nights, the lingerie he coaxed her into, the humiliating positions he demanded... were just for practice? The one he truly loved was Jennifer?! Cynthia's mind buzzed. Unable to take it, she turned and stumbled out of the hospital. At the entrance, the icy wind hit her lungs, and her eyes burned with pain. She remembered the first time she met Graham. It was during gym class. Some boys had cornered her in the equipment room, and she was utterly helpless. Just as she was about to give up hope, a cocky, handsome boy kicked open the door, baseball bat in hand, and leaned lazily against the frame. "Picking on a girl? Real tough, huh?" The boys panicked and bolted, tails between their legs. Graham glanced at her, said nothing, and walked off. Cynthia's heart wouldn't stop racing. Later, she asked around and learned his name—Graham Jewett, the notorious troublemaker at their school. Rumor had it he was heir to the Jewett Group, his family had donated several buildings to the school, and even the principal greeted him with a respectful smile. From that day on, this wild, arrogant boy kept showing up in Cynthia's life—in the cafeteria, in the library, everywhere she went. He even trailed behind her on his motorcycle after school. He'd also show up when she was on cleaning duty, snatching the mop from her hands. "It's late. I'll take you home." He'd press an umbrella into her hands on rainy days, running off in the downpour himself. "Take it—don't catch a cold." On her birthday, he secretly left a box of chocolates on her desk, along with a note: "Happy birthday, Cynthia." Cynthia had never dated anyone before—she fell for him so easily. She thought they had a future together. But reality hit her like a slap in the face! Just then, her phone rang. Her homeroom teacher's voice came through the phone. "Cynthia, your scores are good enough for Stanford University. Today's the last day to submit your application, and there are only ten minutes left. I'm asking one last time—are you sure you want to walk away from Stanford?" Cynthia froze, suddenly remembering how, after the SAT, Graham's scores were good enough for Stanford, too, but he'd chosen a school ranked below Stanford. She'd asked him why, and he'd simply said, "That school has the major I like." Now she realized Jennifer had gotten into that school, and he wanted to spend the years there with her. And the joke was, Cynthia had changed her application so she could be with Graham. Cynthia took a deep breath, her voice calm. "No, I want to go to Stanford University!" This time, she chose to let Graham go. Her teacher was overjoyed. "I'm glad you've thought it through! Hurry and change your application." Cynthia pulled out her phone and changed her application right before the system closed, then went home alone. In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and slowly took off her glasses. She had delicate features, flawless skin, and clear, almond-shaped eyes framed by long, thick lashes. No one at this school knew how stunning her face was beneath the glasses. Ever since middle school, she'd worn glasses to pass as a nerd, after boys had harassed her for her looks. She had intended to show Graham her real face once they got to college. Now, there was no need to do that anymore. Chapter 2 For the next few days, Graham didn't come back. But every day, Cynthia saw him on Jennifer's Instagram. There he was, supporting Jennifer as they strolled down the hospital hallway; there he was, slicing apples at her bedside, his profile gentle and focused; there he was, listening to Jennifer with a soft, attentive gaze... Every photo felt like a knife twisting in Cynthia's heart. She started packing up her things. The sexy lingerie Graham had bought her, the jewelry he'd given her tucked away in the drawers, the lighter he'd carelessly left on her nightstand—one by one, she tossed them into a trash bag. The last thing was the necklace Graham had given her on her birthday. "My little genius," he'd said that day, fastening it around her neck with a roguish grin, "from now on, you're only allowed to wear what I give you." Cynthia carried the box out of the apartment, dumped everything into the garbage bin, and turned to leave—only to walk straight into a wall of muscle. "What are you throwing out? You look so serious." A familiar voice rumbled above her, deep and laid-back. Cynthia froze, slowly looking up into Graham's dark, amused eyes. He stood there with one hand in his pocket, a cigarette dangling between the fingers of the other. Smoke curled around his handsome, rebellious face—the same face that used to make her heart race. Now, Cynthia just felt a tightness in her throat, as if something was blocking her breath. "Nothing important. Just some things I don't need anymore." She looked away, her tone calm. Graham glanced at the trash bin, his brows furrowing for a moment before relaxing again. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "Are you mad at me?" Cynthia turned her head, dodging his hand. His arm hung awkwardly in the air, a flicker of annoyance crossing his eyes before he quickly suppressed it. "I messed up last time. Jenny's stomach started hurting out of nowhere. Our families go way back—it would have looked bad if I hadn't gone." He paused, his voice softening a bit. "I was in a rush and forgot to unlock your cuffs. "How'd you get out? Did you hurt yourself?" He reached for her wrist, but Cynthia pulled her arm back. "I'm fine." Graham's frown deepened. Was he imagining things? Cynthia used to rely on him so much—she'd pout and complain, eyes red with tears, always wanting him to comfort her. But now... she was actually avoiding him? He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang in his pocket. "Graham! Why aren't you down here yet?" Jennifer's playful voice came through the receiver. "I've been waiting forever!" He hung up and looked at Cynthia, his tone casual. "Jenny's sick of being stuck in the hospital. She's getting discharged today and insists on going to an escape room. The more, the merrier. You coming?" Cynthia wanted to refuse, but Graham didn't give her the chance. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. "The college entrance exams are over. Stop burying your head in books—come relax." He shoved her into the car. As Cynthia looked up, she saw Jennifer sitting in the front passenger seat, flashing her a fake smile. "Sorry, I get carsick. You'll have to take the back seat." Cynthia said nothing and quietly slid into the back. The car started up. Graham had only recently gotten his license, and Jennifer spent the whole drive teasing him. "Graham, you'd better be careful behind the wheel. I'm too young to die with you." Graham chuckled. "Don't worry. I'd never let anything happen to you." Jennifer fluttered her lashes. "Then I'll trust you with my life." She rummaged in the console for snacks, and Graham didn't stop her. He even handed her a bottle of water, thoughtful and attentive. Cynthia watched, feeling a thousand tiny needles prick her heart. She remembered last time, when she'd tried eating cookies in Graham's car. He'd tossed all the snacks out the window. "Baby, I hate crumbs in my car." So this was it—when it came to Jennifer, every rule suddenly didn't matter. Chapter 3 Half an hour later, the car pulled up smoothly in front of the escape room venue. Cynthia had barely stepped out when she spotted Jennifer and her friends already waiting at the entrance. "Well, well, isn't that our little miss valedictorian?" A girl with a high ponytail covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Not buried in your books today?" "She's Graham's girlfriend now," another girl chimed in with a biting tone. "She can't be a nerd anymore, or he'll dump her." Cynthia gripped the straps of her backpack and walked straight past them. Since she'd started dating Graham, she'd heard those jabs more times than she could count. Everyone seemed to think that only someone like Jennifer, the school's golden girl, was worthy of Graham. What right did Cynthia have, with her black-rimmed glasses and bookish looks? The staff handed out blindfolds, guiding everyone into the escape room. As darkness fell, Cynthia's heart began to race, her fingers clutching at the hem of her shirt. "Take off your blindfolds," came the instruction over the intercom. Cynthia removed hers, but her vision was still swallowed by pitch black. "Ah!" Jennifer screamed suddenly, flinging herself into Graham's arms. "It's so dark! I'm scared!" Graham chuckled softly, holding her close. "Don't worry, I'm here." Cynthia stood frozen, feeling as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart. It wasn't that she wasn't afraid—she simply knew that even if she was, no one would step up to protect her. Out of nowhere, an NPC with hair covering their face lunged from the shadows. Before Cynthia could react, someone shoved her hard from behind. She stumbled, crashing to the floor, her knee slamming into the hard ground. The pain made her suck in a sharp breath. "Cindy? Are you okay?" Graham's voice sounded distant. Cynthia was about to answer when Jennifer's friends cut in, their voices overlapping. "What could possibly be wrong with her?" "Exactly, forget about her—let's solve the puzzle!" "Jenny's scared out of her mind, let's get out of here!" Their footsteps faded away. Cynthia gritted her teeth and struggled to her feet, only to realize everyone else had gone on ahead. The darkness felt like an impenetrable net, trapping her completely. "Help..." Her voice was drowned out by the eerie background sounds. Suddenly, a pair of hands shoved her again! Cynthia tumbled into a freezing cold room. Before she could regain her bearings, Jennifer and her friends rushed in, slamming the door shut with a loud click. "What are you doing?" Cynthia's voice trembled. The girls laughed lightly, pulling a remote from a pocket with deliberate slowness. "We've been waiting to teach you a lesson. Finally got our chance today." They crowded around, forcing Cynthia into an electric chair and strapping down her arms and legs. "Let me go!" Cynthia struggled, but she was outnumbered. The moment they hit the switch, a jolt of electricity surged through her body, and Cynthia screamed uncontrollably. "Graham!" She called out his name instinctively. "Help me..." Footsteps halted outside the door. "Cindy?" Graham's voice came through. "Are you in there?" Cynthia opened her mouth to reply, but outside, Jennifer suddenly cried out in pain. "Ow!" "What's wrong?" Graham's voice instantly turned anxious. "I twisted my ankle," Jennifer whimpered. "It's fine, you go find Cynthia..." "Find Cynthia for what?" Graham replied without hesitation. "I'll get you out first and see how bad it is. Cynthia's an adult—she can get out on her own." His footsteps faded away. Jennifer's friends burst out laughing. "See? To Graham, you're not even worth a strand of Jenny's hair!" The electric current hit Cynthia again, and this time she couldn't hold on. She blacked out. --- When she came to, she was lying in the escape room's lounge, with a staff member looking at her in concern. "Are you alright? When we found you, you'd already passed out." Cynthia shook her head and forced herself to stand. Outside, rain poured down. She had no umbrella, so she walked home drenched. Inside the apartment, Graham was sprawled on the sofa playing video games. He didn't even look up when he heard her come in. "Where've you been? I've been looking for you." Cynthia stood in the entryway, rainwater dripping off her, pooling into a small puddle on the floor. "I was tied up in an electric chair by Jennifer's friends." The game sounds cut off abruptly. Graham turned, eyeing her soaked state from head to toe, then suddenly laughed. He set down the controller and walked over, pinching her cheek. "When did our little genius learn to joke around?" "I'm not joking." Cynthia slapped his hand away. Graham just shrugged, leaning in to kiss her. "Alright, alright, you're not joking. My fault for not protecting you—got zapped as a penalty for losing the game, huh?" Cynthia turned her head, dodging his kiss so it landed on her wet hair instead. "I don't feel well. I don't want to." Graham's eyes went cold for a moment, but then he put on that familiar, careless grin. "Fine. We'll wait until you feel better." The days that followed felt like a silent tug-of-war. Every time Graham tried to get close, Cynthia pushed him away with "I'm not feeling well." At first, he was patient, coaxing her gently—until the fifth night. "How long are you going to keep this up?" Graham pinned her to the bed, his breath hot against her neck, his tone dangerous. Cynthia shoved him away. "I said I don't want to." His face darkened instantly; the slam of the door rattled the windows. They fell into a full-blown cold war. Three days passed in silence until Cynthia's friend called out of the blue. "Cindy! Something happened! Check the campus website!" With trembling fingers, Cynthia opened the site. The top trending headline made her eyes widen in shock. "Liberty High's Valedictorian's Private Photos Leaked! Innocent Image Shattered!" The attached photo was her in bed with Graham. Chapter 4 Even though the crucial areas were censored and Graham's face was deliberately blurred, anyone who knew Cynthia could instantly recognize her. The comments section was flooded with vile insults. "So high and mighty in public, but such a slut behind closed doors?" "Damn, look at that pose. Guess our little miss valedictorian is wilder than we thought..." "Heard Cynthia was sleeping around since freshman year. These must be those freshman year spy shots. So shameless. Why would Graham even go for her?!" Cynthia's whole body shook; her phone nearly slipped from her grasp. It was her first time facing something like this. Her mind went blank, and the only thought that remained was—she had to get those photos taken down. She immediately contacted the campus website administrator, but they politely replied, "Sorry... that post can't be removed." The public outrage only grew, leaving Cynthia with nowhere to turn. She had no choice but to seek out Graham. He was lounging on the couch playing video games, and when she stood before him, pale and trembling, he raised an eyebrow. "Well? Need something from me?" Cynthia clutched the hem of her shirt, her voice barely audible. "The photos on the campus site... can you help me get them taken down?" Graham put down his phone, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Baby, if you want something, you've got to show a little effort, right?" His gaze roamed over her, shameless and obvious. Cynthia bit down hard on her lip, her nails digging into her palm. She knew exactly what he wanted—and she knew she had no other options. Forcing herself, she slowly undressed and climbed onto his lap. --- After a night of madness, Cynthia woke in a daze. Graham was standing by the bed, getting dressed. When he saw her eyes open, he leaned down and kissed her neck, marked with his bites. "Be good, get some more sleep. The photos are gone now. This won't happen again." Cynthia finally felt the weight lift off her chest. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. She didn't know how much time had passed before she was startled awake by a commotion outside. "Gray, you've slept with Cynthia long enough. You've got plenty of experience now—why not just break up after this cold war? Why keep going back to her? Don't tell me... You actually like her?" Cynthia froze, holding her breath. Outside the door, Graham was silent for a moment before he let out a dismissive laugh. "Of course not." He paused, his voice lazy. "I just wanted to try out more positions so I could please Jenny later." Cynthia's mind exploded in a burst of static, everything going blank. "Graham was the one who leaked those photos? "He ruined her reputation on purpose, just to learn a few tricks for Jennifer?!" She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, but her body wouldn't stop trembling. She stumbled backward, her elbow knocking over the cosmetics on her vanity. Crash! The sharp sound of breaking glass was painfully loud in the room. Suddenly, everything outside went silent. "... Cynthia didn't wake up, did she?" one of the guys whispered. "No way," Graham replied confidently, but his footsteps drew closer to the bedroom. Cynthia tensed, quickly sliding back under the covers and feigning sleep. The door creaked open. Graham stood in the doorway, his gaze falling on her. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. "Tch, just the dumb cat," Graham muttered, striding over to scoop up the cat that had jumped onto the vanity. "Don't wake her up." When the door closed again, Cynthia slowly opened her eyes. Tears silently soaked her pillow. --- The next day, Graham took her to the graduation dinner. Cynthia wanted to refuse, but knowing she'd never see these classmates again, she went. At the table, Graham doted on Jennifer—serving her food, pouring her drinks, acting almost absurdly attentive. "Graham, shouldn't you look after Cynthia too?" someone joked. "Aren't you afraid your girlfriend will get jealous?" "Yeah, anyone watching would think Jennifer's your girlfriend!" "But honestly, you and Jenny do make a better couple..." Cynthia sat expressionless, as if none of it concerned her. Only then did Graham perfunctorily place a few pieces of food on her plate—all seafood. Cynthia stared at the shrimp and crab, feeling her heart squeezed in a vise. She was allergic to seafood. Graham had never known. Of course, he'd only ever come to her for s*x. They barely spoke—how could he know what she liked or didn't like? How could she have been so naïve—how could she ever think he'd truly cared for her? Chapter 5 After dinner, everyone started playing Truth or Dare. Cynthia lost the very first round. "Dare! Take off your glasses!" the guys whooped, their voices full of excitement. "Three years of high school, and you even sleep with those on. Tonight, you have to let us see your real face!" Cynthia froze. Take off her glasses? No way... "I'll drink instead," she said quietly. "Three bottles of beer—are you sure?" someone teased with a sly grin. "You're a lightweight. One glass and you're done. Don't push yourself." Cynthia pressed her lips together and reached for the beer, but Graham suddenly stepped in to stop her. "I'll drink for her." Jennifer immediately grabbed his arm. "You lost the game, you can't play favorites!" "Yeah! No helping!" the others chimed in. Graham frowned but eventually withdrew his hand. Cynthia took a deep breath and tipped back three bottles of beer. The alcohol burned her throat and churned in her stomach. She forced herself not to vomit, but her face turned ghostly pale. "I need the restroom," she muttered, stumbling to her feet and nearly collapsing as she rushed to the bathroom, where she clung to the toilet and vomited until her world spun. When she finally managed to recover and stepped out of the stall, a guy blocked her at the sink—the same one who'd demanded she take off her glasses earlier. "Cynthia, had too much to drink? Want me to help you back?" he said, smiling with fake concern, but his hand reached for her glasses. "They're all crooked. Let me take them off and clean them for you." "No!" Cynthia jerked away, but her drunken body was too weak to resist. He grabbed her wrist and yanked the glasses right off her face. Bang! Graham burst in out of nowhere, landing a punch squarely on the guy's face. "You think you can touch my girlfriend? Are you out of your mind?!" The guy screamed and crashed to the floor, while Cynthia collapsed too, vision swimming in a blur. Her glasses... were gone. Graham bent down, picked them up, and reached out to help her. "Are you okay? Let me put these back on." Cynthia frantically covered her face. "I'll do it myself!" She kept her head down, refusing to let him see her eyes. Graham frowned. "What's the difference if I help?" "N-no, I don't need help..." Cynthia's voice shook. "I'm too ugly... I might scare you..." Graham sighed. "You really think I'd judge you for that?" But Cynthia wouldn't budge, so Graham finally handed her the glasses. "Fine, you do it. I'll wait outside." Once he left, Cynthia slowly lowered her hands. The girl in the mirror had porcelain skin, delicate features, and clear almond-shaped eyes framed by long, thick lashes—so breathtakingly beautiful it almost didn't seem real. She hurriedly put her glasses back on, and the stunning face vanished behind the thick lenses, turning her back into the forgettable "nerd." Drawing a shaky breath, she turned to grab her bag and leave. But as she rounded the hallway corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. Just ahead, Graham was holding up a drunken Jennifer, his brow furrowed. "Why did you drink so much?" Jennifer shoved him away, her voice choked with tears. "Why do you care? You have a girlfriend now! Go take care of her instead!" Graham let out a helpless sigh. "I don't like her. I'm with her for a reason. You'll understand someday." "You don't like her?" Jennifer snorted. "Then why'd you stand up for her and punch that guy?" Graham paused, mouth open, but couldn't find the words. Jennifer's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Just admit it. You like her." With that, she turned to leave, but Graham quickly reached out to grab her. Jennifer slipped, falling straight into Graham's arms. Their lips met, unexpectedly, in a kiss. Chapter 6 Standing in the shadows, Cynthia felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart until it hurt. Graham didn't push Jennifer away—instead, he deepened the kiss. It was nothing like the rough, possessive way he'd kissed her before. Now, Graham was gentle, as if he were holding something precious and fragile. Of course... Every move, every technique, he'd perfected on her. And now, he was using the kisses he'd learned from her to kiss the girl he truly cared about. Cynthia couldn't watch any longer. She turned and hurried away. She stood at the curb, trying to hail a cab as the cold wind stung her eyes red. "Cindy!" Graham's voice called out from behind. She didn't turn around, only clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "Why'd you leave without saying anything?" Graham strode up, frowning slightly. "I saw you were having fun, so I didn't want to interrupt," she replied calmly, as if she hadn't seen anything at all. Graham studied her for a few seconds, then suddenly grabbed her hand. "If you're gone, what's left to do? I'll take you home." Before she could refuse, he'd already bundled her into the car. Just as he was about to start the engine, Jennifer came running out, her cheeks still flushed. "Graham, my driver can't make it tonight," she bit her lip, "Can I ride with you guys?" Graham nodded without hesitation, then turned to Cynthia. "Jenny gets carsick. You sit in the back." Cynthia silently got out and moved to the back seat, her heart stabbing with pain. She got carsick too—but Graham never remembered. The whole ride, Graham's attention was completely on Jennifer, handing her water and tissues, gently asking if she felt okay. Cynthia sat in the back, like she was invisible. Halfway there, Jennifer scrolled through her phone, deliberately liking videos of cute guys, then showed her screen to Graham. "What do you think of this guy? Would he be a good match for me?" Graham glanced at it, his expression darkening instantly. "Not a chance." Jennifer giggled and teased, "Well, I have to date someone, right? College starts soon." "Just wait," Graham said with certainty. "When school starts, you'll meet someone better." Jennifer looked confused, but Cynthia understood perfectly. When college started, he'd break up with her—and then chase Jennifer openly. It felt like her heart was being torn apart, the pain suffocating. Jennifer noticed how pale Cynthia looked and pretended to be considerate. "Graham, you should talk to Cynthia, too. She's your girlfriend." Only then did Graham realize he'd ignored Cynthia. He started to speak— Bang! A sudden crash shook the car! They'd been rear-ended! In a split second, Graham instinctively lunged for the passenger seat, shielding Jennifer tightly in his arms. Cynthia's head slammed into the back of the seat. Everything went black. --- The next thing she knew, the sharp scent of antiseptic filled her nose. Cynthia slowly opened her eyes to see Graham sitting at her bedside, his expression complicated. "You're awake?" His voice was low. "Sorry. It all happened so fast—I didn't have time to think. Jenny was closest to me, so I..." "So you instinctively protected Jennifer, right?" Cynthia finished, her voice calm. Graham pressed his lips together, not denying it. Suddenly, his phone rang—Jennifer was calling. Graham answered, frowning. "Okay, I'll be right there." He hung up and stood. "Jenny's shaken up. I'm going to check on her. I'll be back soon." Cynthia said nothing, just slowly closed her eyes. Chapter 7 Graham was gone for several days. All Cynthia could do was scroll through Jennifer's Instagram, seeing photo after photo of Graham doting on her. He fed her soup. He took her for walks. He gently tousled her hair. Every image felt like a knife twisting deeper into Cynthia's heart. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, Graham finally showed up and told her he was taking her to Jennifer's birthday party. The party was dazzling—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, a towering champagne fountain glimmered in the light, and everyone whispered that the event had cost over six figures, personally organized by Graham for Jennifer. "I heard the gift Graham gave her is worth 150,000 dollars!" "He really goes all out for Jennifer." Cynthia stood in a corner, listening to the chatter, watching as Graham fastened a diamond necklace around Jennifer's neck with his own hands. "How did you know I've always wanted this?" Jennifer asked, her voice bubbling with delight. Graham smiled, impossibly gentle. "Because I remember everything you like." Down below, Jennifer's friends shot Cynthia smug, challenging looks. "See that? This party, that necklace—girls like you will never even get close to something like this." "If you have any sense, you'll leave Graham now. You're not good enough for him." Cynthia gripped her wine glass so tightly her nails nearly broke the skin of her palm. "It's not that I'm not good enough for him. It's that he's not good enough for me." The girls erupted in laughter, as if she'd just told the world's funniest joke. Cynthia ignored them and turned to leave the ballroom. The night air was cool. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. Suddenly, a drunk man stumbled into her path. "Hey there, all by yourself?" Cynthia took a step back, her voice cold. "Move." The man swayed, finally focusing on her face—on the thick black glasses. Disgust twisted his features. "Damn, I thought you were a hottie. Turns out you're just a freak!" His gaze roamed over her, and he leered as he stepped closer. "Still, nice figure..." Cynthia struggled desperately, but the man slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground. "Quit acting so high and mighty!" Just as he lunged at her, a dark figure charged in, sending the man sprawling with a single punch. "You must have a death wish!" Graham's voice was ice-cold, his fists raining down on the man until blood covered his face. Only then did Graham stop, tossing the man to the bodyguards. He turned to help Cynthia up, his brow furrowed in concern. "Why didn't you call for me when you were in danger?" Cynthia looked into his anxious eyes, feeling nothing but sorrow. "Would it have made a difference? "In your heart, I'll always come after Jennifer," she thought silently. Seeing Cynthia silent, Graham assumed she was in pain. His voice softened, rare tenderness in his tone. "Wait here. I'll get you some medicine." He hurried off, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Cynthia forced herself to sit up, her knees and arms burning with fresh scrapes. She didn't want to stay a moment longer. Bracing herself against the wall, she made her way toward the exit. She'd barely reached the door when Jennifer blocked her path. "So, you think just because Graham saved you once, he actually cares about you?" Jennifer sneered, her eyes full of contempt. "Don't kid yourself. You and he are from two different worlds. Break up with him before you embarrass yourself." Cynthia didn't bother to argue and simply stepped aside to leave. Jennifer, shocked that Cynthia would dare ignore her, seethed with rage and grabbed her wrist. "I said stop!" On instinct, Cynthia jerked free, but Jennifer suddenly lost her balance and tumbled toward the staircase. In a panic, she grabbed at Cynthia's shirt, and the two of them went crashing down the stairs together. Bang! The loud crash drew a crowd. Graham rushed back with the medicine, only to see the scene unfold. Jennifer was sprawled on the floor, her knee scraped and bleeding, while Cynthia, dragged down as well, had blood streaming down her arm. Graham's face changed instantly. He rushed forward, but the first person he helped up was Jennifer. "What happened?!" Chapter 8 Jennifer's eyes instantly filled with tears, her voice trembling as she choked out, "Graham... I—I don't know why Cynthia suddenly pushed me..." Cynthia's pupils contracted. Fighting through the pain, she tried to explain, "I didn't push her! She fell on her own and pulled me down with her!" "Enough!" Graham cut her off coldly, his eyes dark and accusing as he glared at Cynthia. "Not only did you bully Jenny, but now you're trying to smear her name? Cynthia, when did you become so cruel?" Cynthia opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked, and she couldn't get a single word out. Graham was already scooping Jennifer into his arms, striding away without looking back. He tossed out one last sentence, "No one's allowed to help her. Let her learn her lesson." With Graham's orders, no one dared come to Cynthia's aid. Gritting her teeth, Cynthia dragged her injured leg and forced herself out. The night wind stung her wounds, making her shiver uncontrollably. She flagged down a cab and headed straight for the nearest hospital. "Is there a doctor available?" she asked, clutching the wall, cold sweat pouring from the pain. The nurse looked at her apologetically. "We're not accepting patients tonight. All our doctors have been called by Mr. Jewett for a consultation with Ms. Branson..." Cynthia stood in the empty ER, barely able to stay upright from the pain. She let out a bitter laugh, but tears streamed down her face. She didn't know how long she stood there before she turned and limped out of the hospital, walking two blocks before finally finding a pharmacy that was still open. "Hi, I need some antibiotics and gauze, please." Back at her apartment, Cynthia curled up on the sofa, biting down on a towel as she disinfected her wounds. The instant the alcohol swab touched her skin, the pain was so intense her vision went black and tears spilled down her cheeks. Just like her feelings for Graham. Letting go hurt—hurt so much she felt like she was being torn apart. But once the wounds healed, there would be a new dawn. --- Three days later, the scabs had formed on her knees, and Cynthia headed to the mall. Stanford University might be on the West Coast, but the winters there were still chilly, so she needed to buy some warm clothes. She had just walked into a store when she heard a familiar laugh. "Graham, does this look good?" Jennifer spun in front of the mirror, holding up a beige dress. Graham leaned lazily against a clothing rack, a relaxed smile on his lips. "Looks great." He looked up, and his eyes met Cynthia's. Almost instinctively, he moved Jennifer behind him, as if shielding her. "What are you doing here?" "Shopping for clothes," Cynthia replied calmly, picking up a long down coat. Jennifer glanced at the shopping bag in Cynthia's hand, pretending to be surprised. "Huh? Isn't our school in the South? The temperatures don't really change much—why buy something so heavy?" Cynthia said nothing. She didn't want to tell them she hadn't even applied to that university. At the register, Graham reached for her bill. "Let me get it." Cynthia stepped aside. "No need." "Why are you fighting me on this?" Graham's face darkened. "You think I care about a little money?" Cynthia swiped her own card. "Don't bother. I won't spend your money ever again." Graham frowned, about to argue, but Jennifer interrupted, "Graham, we need to hurry. Our flight's about to leave." He gave Cynthia a long look, finally tossing out, "Don't let this happen again." Cynthia gave a faint, silent smile. Outside the mall, Graham ushered Jennifer into the car. Just before leaving, he seemed to remember something and called out to Cynthia, "I've been helping Jenny pack these past few days, so I forgot to tell you—she wants to get familiar with campus early, so we booked our tickets for today. You should wait until orientation and come then. I'll have the butler pick you up." "Okay," Cynthia replied blandly. Graham turned and got in the car, calling out as he left, "See you at school." Cynthia watched the taillights fade into the distance and whispered, "Let's never meet again." --- On the day classes started, Cynthia packed her last suitcase. Everything that belonged to her was gone from the apartment—not even a strand of hair left behind. Her phone buzzed—Graham's message. "Cindy, today's move-in day. I've sent the butler to take you to the airport." The doorbell rang right on time. "Ms. Shanley, the car is ready," the butler said respectfully at the door. Cynthia handed him an envelope. "Please give this to Graham." The butler looked surprised. "What does this mean... You're not going to school?" "I never planned to attend that university." Inside the envelope was a single line. "Graham, let's break up. I know you treated me like a tool, but I treated you like a toy, too—thanks for the experience. Let's not see each other again." Without another word, she walked away and got into a cab. Inside, Cynthia pulled out her phone. She deleted every photo of Graham's smirking face, every lazy voice message, every pinned chat—erased it all. Finally, she broke the phone SIM card she'd used for years and tossed it out the window without hesitation. The cab sped toward the airport, sunlight streaming through the window, warm and bright on her skin. A new city. A new school. A new life. Everything was about to begin again.4.9K reach

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