Born spoiled, I’d always been the center of my family’s world. On move-in day, bodyguards hauled my custom luggage into the dorm. Scanning the cramped room, I laid down my rules. AC at seventy, nonstop. Silence after eleven. Wipe the bathroom dry after every use. No manual labor—five hundred a pop for chores. My three roommates stared, stunned. “Don’t take this wrong,” I added. “First time sharing a room. Better to be upfront.” Then I handed out gifts: full La Mer sets and the latest Apple bundles. Their eyes lit up; they squealed, calling me a god. Yet the dorm’s quiet martyr, Melissa, stirred trouble. She whined I was flaunting charity, insulting her pride. “She thinks money buys me,” she sneered. Even wilder, my fiancé Preston flew in from Europe to defend her. “Jena, tone it down,” he snapped. “Melissa’s got nothing. Dumping luxuries on her is suffocating. Drop the spoiled act.” Watching him shield her, I laughed. Since they saw me as a bully, I’d show them exactly how a true Upper East Side heiress operates. 1 My family is obscenely wealthy. My friends always jokingly call me Manhattan royalty. Honestly, it is not much of a joke. I have the backing of a century-old elite dynasty. So when I stood in the doorway of a dorm room smaller than my walk-in closet at home, realizing four girls were supposed to live here, I genuinely had a headache. I waited in the hallway until my bodyguards finished setting up my bed, and only then did I step inside. My three roommates were standing awkwardly to the side, sizing me up. Their faces displayed unfiltered, blatant judgment. I glanced at the line of bodyguards standing outside the door and the mountain of designer luggage taking up half the dorm. Okay, maybe it was a bit excessive. I took a seat on my freshly made mattress, offering a polite smile to my new roommates. "Hi everyone. I am Jena Kensington, born and raised in New York. We are going to be roommates for the next four years." "I have never shared a room before, so I have a few ground rules." "First, the AC stays at seventy degrees all day. I will pay the electricity bill." "Second, I am a very light sleeper. Total silence after eleven at night." The three girls across from me exchanged incredibly awkward looks. Their eyes screamed two words: high maintenance. I waved my hand, and my bodyguards carried in three massive gift boxes. "These are welcome gifts from Miss Kensington," one of the men announced. The three girls opened their boxes, and their faces went entirely blank for a solid minute. Full sets of La Mer skincare, brand new MacBook Pros, iPads, iPhones, and a massive Chanel lipstick vault. I knew my demands were a bit much, so buttering them up with gifts was only fair. This was standard networking in my social circle anyway. Throwing money at a problem is always infinitely cheaper than owing someone a favor. "I do not mean anything malicious by this. I just want to set boundaries early so we do not fight later." A girl named Brooke, who had a loud and outgoing vibe, immediately accepted the terms. "Oh my god! I thought we were getting a spoiled brat with princess syndrome, but we got actual royalty!" "You are way too generous, I almost feel bad taking this." I offered a soft smile. "Also, I refuse to do manual labor and I do not clean. If you clean my area, it is five hundred dollars. If you pick up my packages from the mailroom, it is a thousand." I paused for a second before continuing. "If you guys are not comfortable with that, I can always ask the girls next door." Brooke jumped up instantly, pulling the girl next to her, Roxy, up with her. "I am comfortable! Things like serving royalty should absolutely stay in-house. Consider me hired." Roxy looked at me with more determination than my own security detail. "Miss Jena, I actually know a bit of martial arts. I will be your personal bodyguard on campus!" As the ice broke and we started laughing, I noticed the last girl, Melissa, sitting quietly in the corner. She was gripping the designer shopping bags so hard her knuckles were white, biting her lower lip. I did not think much of it at the time. I just assumed she was shy and took longer to warm up to people. I had no idea this girl was about to bring the most unexpected drama into my college life. 2 When did I realize things were weird? Girls from the neighboring dorms would pass me in the hallway and pretend I was invisible instead of smiling like they used to. During lectures, everyone sat a solid three seats away from me, except for Brooke and Roxy. I thought I was just being paranoid. After all, I grew up in gated estates with security so tight I barely ever saw my own neighbors. I did not have a great radar for being socially iced out. Until one night, Brooke finally snapped. I had just stepped out of the shower, toweling my damp hair, when Brooke pushed the door open and sat on the edge of my bed with a bizarre expression. "Jena, have you seen this?" "Seen what?" She hesitated, then pulled out her phone and opened a massive group chat. I scrolled up. A girl named Ashley had fired off three consecutive texts. "Do you guys know that Jena girl from class four? She brought literal bodyguards on the first day. She really thinks she is a princess." "She gave her roommates La Mer, but the catch is they have to be her maids. Five hundred to clean, a thousand to fetch packages. Is that not just humiliating people with money?" "Melissa from the dorm next door told me. She said she felt incredibly humiliated receiving the gifts, but was too terrified to say no because she did not want to get on Jena's bad side." Reading that, I admit, my blood pressure spiked. There were nearly a hundred replies under Ashley's texts. Some called me a tasteless newly-rich snob, while others called me a toxic elitist. Someone even sent a row of candle emojis with a sarcastic comment: "Poor Melissa, having to share a room with a monster like that." I handed the phone back to Brooke. "Melissa started all this?" "The texts literally name-drop her, but look at Melissa playing dumb in the chat!" Brooke was fuming. I scrolled further down. Melissa had sent a pitiful little paragraph. "I did not want everyone to know. I just complained to Ashley privately. Please do not attack Jena or cause her any trouble." Brooke rolled her eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck. "Give me a break! A private complaint that somehow spread to three different majors?" I stayed quiet. Brooke thought I was genuinely hurt and quickly added, "Jena, do not let it get to you. Bitches like her just cannot stand seeing other people thrive. If you want to put her in her place, I have your back!" I shook my head. "No need. Something this petty does not require an operation." The next morning on my way to class, I purposely walked right past Melissa's usual row. She was staring down at her textbook. Without a word, I dropped my bag and sat in the empty seat right next to her. She stiffened instantly. The girls sitting around her darted nervous glances in my direction. I unlocked my phone, pulled up the screenshot of the group chat, and slid it directly onto her textbook. "Care to explain?" Melissa took one look at the screen, quickly shoved the phone back toward me, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I... I just felt a little uncomfortable, so I casually vented. It was just a joke." I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "You gladly accepted my La Mer, the Apple tech bundle, and the Chanel lipsticks. And then you went behind my back and told the entire school I was giving you charity? That I used my money to humiliate you?" Her eyes instantly flooded with tears. A few students nearby were already turning their heads. Melissa suddenly covered her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling as her voice cracked into a sob. "Jena, what did I ever do to you? Why are you hunting me down just to bully me?" She sniffled, looking up at me with eyes full of stubborn grievance. "You dumped all those wildly expensive things on me. I know you are filthy rich, but you know exactly what my financial situation is. How am I supposed to pay you back?" "I am terrified to even use them. I leave them in my closet and feel sick looking at them every day. So what if I complained to Ashley? Am I not allowed to have feelings?" I sat there in total silence, watching her put on a masterclass performance. Melissa simply stood up, her chair legs screeching harshly against the floor. "Yes, I am poor! So just because I took your stuff, I am supposed to fall on my knees and worship you?" "What gives you the right to act so superior and dictate our relationship? You weaponized your money to crush my self-esteem. Am I not allowed to feel uncomfortable?" The moment she finished her speech, the tears fell even harder. The students around us started whispering furiously. "Jena, back off. Just because you have money does not mean you can psychologically torture people." My voice was deadpan. "Melissa, are you done crying?" Her sobbing hitched for a second. "First. If you felt so incredibly guilty and pressured by the gifts, you can bring them all back to me tomorrow." "Second. You claim my money turned you into a slave. Funny how you did not feel humiliated when you were cashing in." Her mouth opened, tears still streaming down her cheeks, but no words came out. I stood up and smoothed out my jacket. "I saved the screenshots from the group chat. I strongly advise you to watch your step." I cast a cold glance at the crowd of self-righteous students around us. "I do not care if they believe your little act. But cross me again, and I will not be this polite." After my warning, Melissa and her internet defenders stayed dead silent for two days. But a week later, I received a phone call from my fiancé, Preston. 3 Preston is my fiancé. Our families go way back. When we were ten years old, the adults had dinner and finalized our arranged marriage right on the spot. If you scrolled up in our chat history, his last message was a dry "Happy New Year" from months ago. "Jena, is Melissa your roommate?" "You know her?" "She is my family's sponsored charity student. We have paid her tuition since high school. She called me a few days ago, crying hysterically for hours." I inspected my manicure, entirely unbothered. "And?" "She said you forced incredibly expensive gifts on her, and she was too terrified of being isolated to refuse. Later, she vented about the pressure in the dorm, and you publicly humiliated her in front of the entire lecture hall." Preston sighed, his tone dripping with condescension. "Jena, she really struggles financially. Your lifestyle is a massive burden to her. Can you just tone it down? Interact with people normally instead of throwing your wealth in their faces." "I am saying this for your own good. Your arrogant personality is going to make you a lot of enemies." I basically had the whole picture now. Melissa had the guts to spread rumors behind my back because she thought she had a powerful backer. But she severely miscalculated one tiny detail. Preston did not have the authority to lecture me. I found the entire situation hilarious. "Preston, you know perfectly well that if I actually wanted to ruin someone, they would not even be allowed to set foot in New York." Preston choked on his words. Before he could respond, I hung up. A man who could not even be bothered to text me on holidays for ten straight years had just flown across the Atlantic to lecture me over a charity case. I tossed my phone onto my desk. Brooke leaned over, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Jena, who was that?" "A self-important idiot." The next afternoon, Preston was leaning against a luxury sedan right outside the campus gates. He was dressed in a sharp custom suit, exuding the effortless arrogance of someone who had never worked a day in his life. Standing right beside him was Melissa, her head bowed, eyes red-rimmed, looking like she had just survived a war zone. As I walked out of the gates, Preston stepped forward and blocked my path. "Jena. We need to talk." I glanced at the crowd of nosy students gathering around us and gave a short nod. We sat down in a high-end cafe near campus. Melissa sat practically glued to Preston's side. She kept her eyes glued to the table, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. Preston cut straight to the chase. "Jena, maybe I was not clear enough on the phone yesterday, so I will say it to your face." "Melissa has had a brutal life. Getting into this university took everything she had. Your extravagant gifts and the way you speak to her are psychologically crushing." I leaned back into the plush leather chair, took a sip of my iced lemon water, and said absolutely nothing. Seeing me ignore him, Preston's frown deepened. "You were spoiled rotten by your family since birth. You cannot comprehend the struggles of normal people. But since you are my fiancée, I expect you to have some basic empathy." "Melissa has cried to me multiple times. She says she is terrified to even breathe in the dorm, constantly paranoid that she will upset you." Melissa finally looked up, her voice trembling violently. "Preston, please stop. Jena is not targeting me. I am just too sensitive. It is all my fault." As she spoke, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve in a blatant display of tragic bravery. Seeing this, Preston's face darkened completely. When he turned back to me, his voice was laced with pure anger. "Jena, look at what you have reduced her to! Can you not just swallow your pride and apologize to her?" I finally set my glass down and looked Preston dead in the eye. "Preston. How old are you?" He froze. "What?" "You are twenty-five, right?" I let out a mocking laugh. "A twenty-five-year-old man getting played like a fiddle by a teenager. You flew all the way back from Europe just to play white knight. Do you not feel pathetic?" Preston's face turned completely rigid. "Jena, watch your attitude." I tilted my head, my gaze completely bypassing him to lock onto Melissa. "Melissa. I will ask you one last time. Did I, or did I not, bully and humiliate you?" My voice was eerily calm. Melissa bit her lip so hard it almost bled. "You... you forced the gifts on me in front of everyone. I was too scared to say no." I let out a harsh scoff. "Too scared to say no, but perfectly fine turning around and telling the whole campus I treated you like a beggar?" "Fine. If you were so scared to take them, give them back. Go to the dorm right now and bring them to me. I will wait." Melissa's face drained of all color. "What is wrong? Can you not bear to part with them?" I tilted my head, staring her down. "Or have you already cracked open the La Mer? Booted up the MacBook? Swatched the Chanel lipsticks?" Melissa's tears spilled over again. She turned frantically to Preston, her voice cracking. "Preston, I swear I did not. I did not open them. I have not even touched the packaging." Preston reached out and patted her shoulder protectively, then shot me a venomous glare. "Jena, that is enough! It is just some cheap skincare. Why are you acting like a psycho over this?" "Melissa is poor, so what if she is a little sensitive? Can you not just be the bigger person and let it go?" His words were so absurd I actually laughed, but the warmth completely vanished from my eyes. "Preston, I dropped thousands of dollars of my own money to ensure a peaceful living environment for four people. And somehow I am the villain?" Preston took a deep breath, trying to suppress his temper. "Jena, regardless of your intentions, your arrogant attitude is the problem. You have always been." "My arrogance is backed by my family's empire. I do not owe her a single thing." Preston suddenly shot up from his chair. "Jena! You are crossing the line! I came here in good faith to mediate, and you are purposely making this as ugly as possible!" "You are humiliating Melissa in public. Do you have zero conscience?" Melissa tugged at his sleeve, sobbing quietly. "Preston, please, let us just go. It is my fault. I should never have told you." Preston glared at me, his chest heaving with rage. Then, he violently snatched the iced coffee from the table and sloshed it directly across my chest. "Jena, I will make you get on your knees and beg Melissa for forgiveness." The shock of the freezing coffee left me stunned for exactly two seconds. When I looked up, Melissa was hiding behind him, the triumphant smirk in her eyes completely undisguised. I snapped out of it, blinking hard until my eyes were genuinely red and glassy. Then I pulled out my phone, snapped a selfie of my ruined blouse, recorded a tearful voice memo, and sent it straight to my family group chat. "Daddy. Preston hit me and threw coffee on me to defend a charity student. My eyes are swollen from crying." Across the table, Preston sneered. "Our families are close allies. Do you really think playing the victim is going to get me punished? You really think you are a princess!" Three. Two. One. Screeching tires echoed from the street, followed instantly by the cafe doors being violently shoved open. "Who has a death wish and dares to touch my precious girl?!"
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