Irene’s POV
I left Vincent's place past midnight, my body still aching in places I didn't want to think about, and collapsed into bed without bothering to shower. The next morning, Anna was already perched on my desk when I woke up, swinging her legs and grinning like she'd won the lottery.
"So," she said, drawing out the word with theatrical interest, "how was your 'meeting with the professor'?"
I pulled the blanket over my head. "Riveting discussion on supply and demand curves."
"At eleven PM? On a Friday?" She yanked the blanket down, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, Irene. You can't fool me. You were definitely not discussing economics."
I sat up, rubbing my face. "Anna, I'm serious. Can we not—"
"Which is exactly why you need to come with me tonight." She clapped her hands together. "There's a frat party, and before you say no, remember—you promised you'd help me catch that cheating bastard."
I stared at her. "I never promised that."
"You didn't say no when I mentioned it last week, which is basically a yes." She was already rifling through my closet. "Besides, you've been so tense lately. A little fun won't kill you."
Fun. The word felt foreign in my mouth. I thought about Vincent's hands on my waist, his breath against my neck, the way he'd looked at me before I left—like I was a problem he couldn't quite solve. There was nothing fun about any of it, just a gnawing sense that I'd stepped into something far more complicated than I'd intended.
But Anna was already holding up a shirt, and I was too tired to argue.
"Fine," I said. "But if this goes south, you're buying me coffee for a month."
The music at the frat party was always so loud, and I threaded through the crowd with a furrowed brow, surrounded by the sour smell of cheap beer, the sickly sweetness of cologne, and the sweat of hundreds of bodies.
What the hell was wrong with my brain that I'd agreed to come to this place with Anna?
Oh, I remembered now—she said if I didn't accompany her to catch her college boyfriend cheating, she'd jump from the twelfth floor.
What goddamn towers did this elite school even have for her to jump from?
Anna had gotten fake IDs from somewhere, and the moment I stepped through the door, I transformed from sixteen to "twenty-two."
We'd agreed to leave once we caught him, but the moment this girl entered the party, she was like a drop of water entering the ocean, vanishing before I could blink.
I drifted like a ghost on the edge of the chaos, clutching an untouched Coke, watching those well-dressed boys and girls writhing on the dance floor until near midnight, when I went to the second-floor bathroom to touch up my makeup, and emerged to find the hallway atmosphere eerily unsettling.
"Hey, doll, looking for some fun?" When the eighth blonde idiot approached with a bottle and a raised eyebrow, my patience was completely exhausted.
"Thanks, not interested." I rolled my eyes and tried to sidestep him.
He grabbed my wrist this time, pulling me back with enough force that I stumbled. "Come on, don't be like that. I just want to talk."
I yanked my arm free and turned to leave, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. His friends had materialized from somewhere, forming a loose semicircle that made my skin crawl.
"You know what?" one of them said, leaning against the wall with a smirk. "I heard something interesting about you."
My stomach tightened. "I'm sure you did."
"Yeah, apparently you're real friendly with the Green family." His grin widened. "Both of them, if you know what I mean."
The hallway seemed to shrink. I kept my face blank, but my mind was racing. How the hell did they know about Vincent? And Henry—God, Henry. I hadn't seen him since that confrontation in the hallway, when Vincent had shown up and scared him half to death.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, my voice flat.
"Sure you don't." The blonde idiot laughed. "Bet you're real good at playing innocent, huh? That's how you got Henry, right? And now you're working on his uncle?"
Heat flooded my face—not embarrassment, but rage. I took a step forward, and he actually flinched. "You want to repeat that?"
Before he could answer, someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward, my bag slipping off my shoulder, and my phone clattered to the floor. The screen cracked on impact, spiderwebbing across the glass.
"Oops," a girl's voice said from behind me, dripping with false sweetness. "So clumsy."
I turned around slowly, and there she was—Johanna, looking like she'd stepped out of a magazine, her golden curls perfectly styled, her short dress hugging every curve. She was flanked by two of her friends, both of whom were smirking like they'd just won a prize.
And behind her, trying very hard to blend into the wallpaper, was Henry.
His eyes met mine for a split second, and I saw it—guilt, maybe, or fear. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, his jaw tight, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. When our gazes locked, his face went pale, and he glanced away so quickly it was almost comical. The last time we'd been this close, Vincent had cornered him in the hallway, and whatever his uncle had said to him must have left a mark, because Henry looked like he was about to bolt.
But he didn't say anything. Didn't move. Just stood there like a coward while his fiancée grinned at me.
"Irene," Johanna said, her voice light and mocking. "I didn't know you were into this kind of scene. Thought you were too busy studying to have fun."
I bent down and picked up my phone, the cracked screen cutting into my thumb. Blood welled up, a thin red line, and I wiped it on my jeans without looking at her.
"Studying's more fun than watching you pretend to be twenty-two," I said, straightening up. "Does your daddy know you aged yourself up a few years to get into a frat party?"
The smirk faltered. Just for a second, but I saw it.
"My father," she said, her voice sharpening, "doesn't need to know everything I do. Unlike some people, I don't need his permission to live my life."
"Right." I smiled sweetly. "Because sneaking into parties with a fake ID is such a sign of independence."
The people around us had gone quiet, sensing blood in the water. Johanna's face flushed, her carefully constructed poise cracking at the edges.
"At least I'm not spreading my legs for every man in the Green family," she hissed.
The hallway erupted in laughter, sharp and cruel, and I felt it like a slap. But I didn't flinch. I looked past her, straight at Henry, who was staring at the floor like it might swallow him whole.
"You know what's funny?" I said, my voice cutting through the noise. "Your fiancé there was the one who started that rumor. Ask him about the bet he made. Go on. Ask him."
Henry's head snapped up, his face going white. "Irene, don't—"
"Don't what?" I stepped closer, ignoring the way Johanna's expression shifted from smug to confused. "Don't tell her how you and your buddies bet on who could get me into bed first? Don't mention how you lost that bet and got your ass handed to you by your uncle?"
The laughter stopped. Johanna turned slowly to look at Henry, her eyes narrowing.
"Henry?" she said, her voice dangerously soft.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked like a trapped animal, his gaze darting between me and Johanna, and for a moment, I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
"You're lying," Johanna said, but there was no conviction in her voice.
"Am I?" I shrugged. "Ask him. Or better yet, ask Vincent. I'm sure he'd love to explain."
I pushed past her, my shoulder deliberately knocking into hers, and walked down the hallway without looking back. Behind me, I could hear Johanna's voice rising, sharp and accusing, and Henry's stammered attempts to defend himself.
It wasn't until I reached the stairwell that I stopped, pressing my back against the wall and letting out a shaky breath. My hands were trembling, adrenaline still coursing through my veins, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear.
Two days later, this torment seeped into the classroom.
It was a large economics principles lecture, with the professor at the podium deriving complex formulas.
I sat in the third row by the aisle, head down, frantically taking notes.
Johanna walked down the aisle in her high heels with an extremely elegant bearing.
As she passed me, her foot "accidentally" hooked my bag strap.
Crash—
My notebook, textbook, and highlighters scattered across the floor, the pages flying everywhere like startled white doves.
The classroom instantly erupted in barely suppressed giggles, not hearty laughter but the kind of snickering that stayed in throats, full of malice.
"Oops, so sorry, Irene." Johanna's voice floated down from above me, dripping with false sincerity. "I'm so clumsy when I walk."
In my peripheral vision, I saw Henry sitting in the fourth row, not turning around, not moving, just sitting there quietly like a judge abstaining from involvement, tacitly permitting his fiancée to bully me.
"I don't understand, Jonny." I looked at Johanna with a half-smile. "Does this kindergarten-level provocation actually give you pleasure?"
Johanna stared at me coldly, as if she might tear me apart the next second.
I straightened up and looked at Henry, shrugging. "You're really a failure of a fiancé, can't even give her any pleasure."
"You two." The professor finally spoke up.
I snorted coldly, grabbed my messily stuffed bag, and deliberately rammed Johanna's shoulder as I passed.
"You'd be better off spending this time reading, Your Majesty, so your exam ranking can get a little closer to mine next time."
I held my head high like a peacock as I walked out of the classroom.
It wasn't until I reached the corner that I shrank into it, irritably patting my pockets, trying to find a cigarette.
Fuck, why did I quit smoking again?
Oh right, because teeth whitening is expensive!
"Want one?" A low voice sounded above my head.
I jerked my head up to find Vincent Green standing on the steps, looking down at me with a smile, wearing a dark gray long coat today that gave him an air of coldness completely at odds with this noisy campus.
"Heard you ran into trouble?" Vincent seemed eager for me to complain to him.
But how could I be such an obedient good girl?
"Actually it's nothing—Her Majesty just particularly enjoys bullying me, that's all."
I extended my hand.
"I'll take one. I need a smoke."
Vincent's face went cold.
I raised an eyebrow. "What, didn't you ask me... oh~ I get it, you thought I was hiding in a corner crying like a little chick because someone kicked over my bag in class? Please. That's like spring breeze brushing my face."
"You could come to me for help." Vincent suddenly said.
I looked at him with confusion. "What's our relationship? Why would I come to you for help?"
Vincent's brow furrowed even tighter.
I laughed coldly. "One-night stand? Multiple-night stand? Fuck buddy? Ex-boyfriend's uncle?"
"Enough." Vincent dropped the word icily. "I must be sick in the head to care about you."
With that, he turned and walked away.
I watched his tall figure coldly, sneering inwardly.
Rich people—they seem to treat you differently, but really you're just another toy to them.
Henry already looked down on my background, so how would his uncle make an exception?
I scratched my hair irritably, stingy bastard couldn't even spare me one cigarette.
