Chapter 3

"Caleb, wait!" I stumbled after him onto the back patio, grabbing his sleeve with both hands. "This is a misunderstanding—"

"Misunderstanding?" He ripped his arm away so hard I slammed back against the brick wall.

In the moonlight, whatever panic had been in his eyes was gone, replaced by pure, cold disgust. "You know what? I was trying to figure out how such a crazy coincidence could even happen. But now it makes perfect sense. There was no coincidence."

I froze, something sharp twisting in my chest. "What are you talking about?"

"Cut the innocent act!" He stepped closer, his voice dripping with contempt. "I should've known. How else would you have the guts to post that confession where three thousand people could see it?"

"You knew exactly who my father was. Knew you and your mom were about to move into that mansion in Long Island. You set this whole thing up, didn't you?"

"Sleep with me before we became step-siblings, lock me down for good. Jesus, Daphne—you and your mother have gold-digging down to a fucking science."

"You're insane!" Tears blurred my vision, my whole body shaking. "I had no idea he was your dad! My mom actually loves—"

"Don't you dare talk about my father!" His voice cracked like a whip. "I thought I'd feel bad about this. Now I just feel sick."

"Get this through your head, Daphne—if you think you can slither your way into my family with your trashy little schemes, you're even dumber than I thought."

He turned his back on me, throwing one last warning over his shoulder. "And what happened between us? Everyone's going to know what you really are."

The weekend blurred together in a haze of numbness. By Monday morning, when I walked into school with my hood pulled low, I knew Caleb had made good on his threat.

The rumors spread like wildfire, twisting into something uglier with every retelling.

"There she is. The gold digger."

"Can you believe she actually tried to trap her future stepbrother? Just for the money..."

"She's literally psychotic."

Disgust followed me down every hallway, reflected in every face. When I spotted Caleb at the far end of the corridor, nausea rolled through my stomach.

He had Hailey—our cheerleading captain—pinned against a locker, that signature red varsity jacket making him impossible to miss. He kissed her neck while she giggled, running her fingers through his perfect golden hair.

When his eyes found mine, there was no guilt. He pulled Hailey closer, his hand sliding deliberately to her waist, holding my gaze with a look of pure challenge.

The message couldn't have been clearer: This is the kind of girl I'm supposed to be with. And you? You're nothing.

Lunch period was a public execution.

Caleb and Hailey held court at the center table, impossible to avoid. As I tried to slip past with my tray, Hailey's voice rang out, sugar-sweet and venomous.

"I mean, seriously—even if you're desperate to marry rich, who actually goes after their own stepbrother?" She twisted a lock of Caleb's hair around her finger, her eyes slicing into me. "It's beyond pathetic. Makes me want to puke."

"Don't waste your breath on desperate trash, babe." Caleb kissed her in front of everyone, making sure his voice carried. "Honestly, the stupidest thing I ever did was feel sorry for that manipulative psycho. You're the only one who really gets me."

Laughter exploded around them, harsh and cutting. I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting copper, forcing myself not to let tears fall into my food.

Chemistry class that afternoon broke me.

Mrs. Hawthorne had clearly heard the gossip. Her pen tapped sharply against the podium. "To avoid certain... distractions, we're rearranging the seating chart. Caleb, Hailey—front row. Miss Pierce, you'll take the empty seat in the back corner."

I gathered my books under a sea of mocking stares and made the walk of shame to the last row. Someone was already sitting there.

Long legs sprawled into the aisle, black leather jacket screaming danger. Zane Knight—the guy who'd allegedly put his last school's bully in the hospital with three broken ribs before transferring here.

A heavy silver skull ring spun between his fingers, catching the light. When I dropped into the seat beside him, he didn't even glance up.

For the entire period, I had a front-row view of Caleb and Hailey's performance. At one point, Hailey actually turned around and flipped me off, mouthing: Loser.

I stared down at my textbook, pretending to focus on chemical equations while tears turned everything into a watercolor blur.

"You really crying over some spineless pretty boy who'd throw you under the bus?"

The voice was low and rough, startlingly close. I jerked my head toward him, meeting eyes so dark they were almost black.

His skull ring hit the desk with a sharp crack. He leaned back, those bottomless eyes holding something like lazy amusement—but not the cruelty I'd been drowning in all day.

"What would you know about it?" I shot back, voice barely a whisper as I wiped my face. "Mind your own business."

A low, humorless laugh. His gaze drifted to the front row where Caleb had his arm around Hailey. "Power couple. Sure. The shinier something looks, the more rotten it is inside."

That sentence lodged itself in my brain and wouldn't let go.

When the final bell rang, I ran. Down the empty hallways, down the basement stairs, into the abandoned art studio where no one ever went. The moment that heavy door closed behind me, I collapsed against it, finally letting the sobs tear free.

My first love. My reputation. My mother's dignity. All of it destroyed in less than twenty-four hours.

Click.

The door handle turned. My head snapped up.

A tall shadow filled the doorway. Zane Knight stepped inside, my blue notebook dangling from his hand—the one I'd left behind in chemistry.

"You forgot this." He walked over and dropped it in my lap.

I scrubbed frantically at my face, glaring at him through swollen eyes. He didn't leave. Instead, he stood there, hands buried in his jacket pockets, staring down at my tear-streaked face with an unreadable expression.

"So what's the plan? Hide down here playing the victim until graduation?"

His voice echoed slightly in the empty room.

"Leave me alone," I choked out. The last thing I needed was the school's resident psycho seeing me like this.

Zane crouched down, bringing himself eye-level with me. Those black eyes created an almost physical pressure, but underneath the intensity was something unexpectedly... steady.

"When people shove shit in your face, you've got two choices. Swallow it, or shove it right back down their throats." He held my gaze, brutal honesty cutting through his words. "Crying in a basement won't change anything, Daphne Pierce."

I stared at him, completely thrown. Since Friday night, he was the first person who'd looked at me like I was actually human—not a gold digger, not a punchline, not something to destroy.

He straightened up, gave me one last unreadable look, and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Daphne?" He paused at the threshold, glancing back. That low voice seemed to hook into something deep in my chest. "Your taste in guys? Still absolute garbage."

The door clicked shut.

I sat frozen on the dusty floor, my heart suddenly pounding with no rhythm or reason.

Not just because of what he'd said. But because of how he'd said it.

Still.

That gravelly voice. The sharp angle of his jaw when he'd looked back. Like a key violently turning in a lock I didn't even know existed, forcing open a door in my memory that had been sealed tight.

We'd met before.

Before Friday. Before chemistry class. Before this nightmare. Somewhere in the past...

Zane Knight.

Who the hell was he?