Chapter 3

I hadn't even locked my screen before Bobby's reply popped up.

Less than three minutes. He was practically salivating.

[Perfect. To show how sorry I am, I had a gown custom-tailored to your precise measurements. It'll be delivered to your dorm tomorrow. Please, wear it this Saturday. I promise to make you the absolute center of attention.]

Staring at the phrase "center of attention," a cold, dead smile crept across my face.

A massive black box with a gold-foiled crest waited outside my door the following afternoon.

Peeling back the layers of pristine tissue paper, I found it: a pure white, backless silk gown.

White. The ultimate canvas.

Under the unforgiving glare of stage lights, it would show every single drop.

I held the flawless fabric up, instantly decoding their pathetic script. Bobby's five-hundred-dollar bounty from three months ago, the highly publicized gala, and this mandatory white dress.

What better way to obliterate someone than to douse a "pig" in a bucket of rancid red paint—or literal slaughterhouse blood—while the whole room watched?

It was a cheap-ass Carrie knockoff, their grand finale to destroy me in front of everyone.

I tossed the dress back into the box without even trying it on and dialed Francis.

"I need the master override keys to the auditorium's control booth," I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror. "And I need you to show me how to cut and reroute the ceiling rigging's mechanical winch."

A beat of heavy silence hummed over the receiver.

"Are you planning to bring the roof down on these people?" Francis's voice was dangerously low.

"No," I replied, my tone dead calm. "I'm just going to present an award myself."

Saturday night. The grand ballroom was a sea of crystal chandeliers and clinking champagne flutes.

But the moment I stepped through those double doors on Bobby's arm, wrapped in that pristine white silk, the ambient roar of the room was sucked into a vacuum.

No scattered snickering. No malicious whispers. Just stunned, frozen silence.

Three months of brutal, masochistic discipline had stripped away over forty pounds, leaving behind a sharply defined figure that the plunging neckline and cinched waist only amplified.

I was a far cry from the invisible, pathetic girl who used to hug the walls in oversized hoodies.

Bobby played the perfect gentleman, introducing me to everyone as his stunning date—all with nauseating sincerity.

But beneath the velvet tuxedo jacket, I could feel the muscles in his arm coiled tight, vibrating with micro-tremors against my hand.

It was the predatory thrill of a hunter watching his prey step willingly into the kill zone.

Ten o'clock. The pinnacle of the evening: the Campus Excellence Awards.

Bobby grabbed the mic and bounded onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, I want to take a moment to honor a very special girl. Through her incredible transformation, she has shown us what it really means to reinvent yourself. Please, a massive round of applause for my date—Leona Rodriguez!"

The spotlight snapped onto me. The applause was deafening.

Lifting the hem of my white gown, I kept a flawless, oblivious smile plastered on my face as I glided up the stairs.

My eyes tracked the polished floor, stopping exactly over the subtle mark at center stage.

The stage lights were blinding, but peering through the glare, I caught the dull, metallic glint of a massive bucket suspended in the shadowy rafters directly above me.

Bobby was standing a mere six feet away. The charismatic smile on his face was beginning to twist into something ugly and cruel.

His hand inched toward his suit pocket—right where the micro-remote for the release mechanism was waiting.

A split second before his thumb could press down.

"Wait."

My voice rang out, crisp and steady, cutting through the heavy PA system and echoing across the hall.

I turned my head, locking onto the front row.

Sitting there, phone clutched in a white-knuckle grip, eyes burning with venomous anticipation to record my destruction, was Jennifer.

"A moment this monumental just wouldn't be complete without our former president," I said, staring her down from the elevated stage.

"Come on up, Jennifer. This is a... surprise award, and you really deserve to share it with me."

The room went dead silent. Bobby's hand froze mid-air inside his pocket.

Jennifer was arrogant to a fault, driven by hollow ego.

Humiliated by being called out on the spot, she let out a cold scoff, marching up the stairs in her stilettos and aggressively closing the distance between us.

"Drop the act," she hissed, her voice dropped so low only I could hear the pure vitriol. "This is where it ends for you, bitch."

"Is it?"

I looked her dead in the eyes, a slow, predatory smile carving itself into my face.

In a blur of motion, my hand clamped around her wrist like a vice.

I dropped low and twisted sharply, using my momentum to yank her violently forward—planting her directly onto the marked spot.

Simultaneously, I sprang backward, my right hand slipping into the hidden seam-pocket of my skirt, fingers brushing the cold plastic of the micro-controller Francis had rigged for me.

It was a custom frequency interceptor. Within a thirty-foot radius, it hijacked the signal to every mechanical piece of rigging above us.

Bobby finally realized what was happening. The blood drained from his face as his hand frantically mashed the button inside his pocket.

Once. Twice. Nothing.

His head snapped up to look at me, his devastatingly handsome features physically warping in sheer terror.

Standing safely on the edge of the spotlight, my white silk dress immaculate, I held Bobby's devastated gaze.

And I pressed my thumb down on the little red button.

Click.

The sharp, metallic snap of gears disengaging echoed unnervingly loud in the dead-quiet auditorium.

Then came the heavy, grinding screech of snapping chains.

A massive, heavy shadow plummeted from the ceiling, dragging a sickening, overwhelming stench with it, crashing down with the force of a thunderbolt right onto the marked spot where Jennifer stood.

CRASH—

"NO—!!!"

The explosive impact of the payload and Bobby's throat-shredding scream ripped through the hall at the exact same moment.

And just before the crowd erupted into absolute chaos, I took one elegant step backward in my heels.