My "best friend," Vivian Shelby, was planning to drug me. She wanted to film an explicit video of me to use as blackmail. Fortunately, a classmate overheard her plotting with my boyfriend, Marcus Carter, and posted a warning on our university’s anonymous Instagram gossip page: [Urgent! Looking for Chloe Vance. Someone warn her!] I saw the post. And I quietly poured the drug into the drinks I prepared for them. My Instagram DM inbox was blowing up. Everyone was telling me to watch out for my boyfriend and my "bestie." With trembling hands, I tapped on the chat with an account called CampusWatch. It was a repost of a warning thread: [Spread the word. Looking for a girl named Chloe Vance, Literature major. Your boyfriend and roommate are plotting something sick.] At first, I didn't want to believe it. But looking at the blurry spy-shot attached to the post, I recognized Marcus and Vivian instantly. Marcus was wearing the jacket I bought him. Vivian had my limited-edition designer watch on her wrist. I couldn't deny it. I stared in shock at Vivian, who was out on our apartment balcony, laughing as she made a phone call. I couldn't believe our four years of friendship and trust had just evaporated. Vivian and I had been roommates and best friends for four years. We shared everything. Because her family struggled financially, I constantly helped her out, buying her meals and clothes under the guise of "sharing." And Marcus was my boyfriend of three years. I wasn’t codependent, nor was I stupid. It was just that they were incredible actors. Marcus always acted like a hardworking, humble guy in front of my parents. Vivian played the role of the sweet, grateful, and fiercely loyal best friend. Whenever Vivian was around me, she always put on a proud but slightly insecure front. She took on part-time jobs, claiming she wanted to stand on her own feet and couldn't rely on my charity forever. Occasionally, she would gift me small things—a lipstick, a hair clip—proudly stating she bought them with her own hard-earned money. Sometimes it was a coffee she went out of her way to buy; other times, it was a limited-edition collectible figurine she had saved up for months to get me. She used to say, "Chloe, you’re so good to me. I have to be even better to you." Marcus played his part perfectly, too. He kept a respectful distance from Vivian whenever I was around, making it seem like I was the only woman in his universe. They performed a flawless duet. One played the devoted boyfriend; the other played the caring bestie. He acted like a loyal partner. She acted like a sister who relied on me completely. They were so good that, until today, I hadn't noticed a single crack in their masks. Last month, my father privately expressed his concerns about Marcus’s background. He made it clear that if we were to continue our relationship, Marcus would have to sign a prenuptial agreement. When Marcus found out, his face turned incredibly ugly. That, no doubt, was the trigger. Vivian must have egged him on, planning this drugging scheme to get dirty material on me. They had spent three years acting, waiting, and plotting, only to realize they might end up with nothing. So Vivian went mad. She dragged him into her sick plan to destroy me in the most vicious way possible, hoping to blackmail my parents and steal everything they coveted. But I wasn't going to let them win. Marcus was trash at his core. He belonged in the gutter, and that was exactly where I was going to leave him.
I remembered when I first got close to Vivian two years ago. She was always cheerful, with a touch of cautious flattery. Once, just to try on my new designer watch, she held her wrist out to me. "Chloe, look, this looks so good on you. I just want to wear it for a second to see how it feels." I didn't think much of it. I just laughed and told her she could wear it longer if she liked. Marcus was there too. He frowned slightly but said nothing. On the surface, he kept a polite and distant boundary with Vivian. Vivian was also very sensible. She never crossed the line again, content to just be my loyal best friend. For two years, she was always grateful and considerate. I never doubted her. He was the loyal boyfriend. She was the sweet bestie. They put on a beautiful show. I never saw it coming.
Vivian ran up to me excitedly, grabbing my arm. "Chloe! I booked a private VIP booth at the campus lounge this weekend. We haven't hung out in forever! Let’s invite a few people. Bring Marcus too, the more the merrier!" I looked at her face. Her smile was flawless. I nodded. "Sure. You set it up." "Awesome! Saturday at eight!" She shook my arm playfully before turning around to make a call. That night, when Marcus dropped me off at my apartment, he casually brought it up. "So, Vivian mentioned something about a lounge party this weekend?" "Yeah. She said it's a get-together. She wants you there too." He scratched his head, showing a perfect touch of reluctance. "Alright, babe. I don't have plans anyway. I'll go with you." On Saturday night, I arrived at the lounge with the "special drinks" I had prepared. I pushed open the door to the VIP booth, and the booming bass hit me instantly. There were already five or six guys inside. Aside from Vivian, it was entirely male. They were crowded around the table, playing drinking games and throwing dice. Marcus, sitting near the edge, stood up immediately when he saw me. "Chloe's here!" Vivian squeezed through the crowd, pulling my arm affectionately. "We were waiting for you! Come, let me introduce you to my friends..." The guys stopped what they were doing, their eyes locking onto me. A guy with bleached blonde hair and a vape in his mouth blew a cloud of smoke and smirked. "Vivian, so this is the rich, pretty roommate you were talking about? Not bad." The others laughed, their greasy gazes lingering on my body. Marcus frowned. "Hunter, cut it out." The guy named Hunter grinned, leaning closer. "Just a joke, Marcus. Don't be so tense. What are you having, beautiful? Next round is on me." I ignored him and looked at Vivian. "This is the 'friends' hangout' you talked about?" Vivian gave a dry laugh. "They're just playing around, Chloe. They don't mean anything." She grabbed a few beers from the table. "Come on, let's have a drink first. Don't just stand there." "No need," I said, placing a luxury shopping bag on the table and pulling out two bottles of high-end whiskey. "I brought my own." Hunter glanced at the bottles and sneered. "Rich girls and their fancy taste." I ignored him, handing one of the bottles to Marcus. "I brought this for you." Marcus took it, his expression slightly complicated. "Thanks, babe." Vivian seized the opportunity to grab the bottle opener. "Oh, let's all drink! I'll pour for everyone!" She poured drinks for everyone. When it was my turn, she poured a glass of my whiskey. As she handed it to me, her finger brushed against the rim of the glass in a barely noticeable motion. I took it but didn't drink. I set it on the table. "Why aren't you drinking, Chloe?" Vivian stared at me. "My stomach feels a bit upset suddenly," I said, covering my mouth. I picked up the glass and forced it into Marcus’s hand. "Drink this for me, babe. Don't let it go to waste." Marcus froze. "Oh, making the boyfriend drink for you?" Hunter jeered. "Marcus, you gotta show her some love and chug it!" Marcus looked at me. I gave him a sweet smile. He tilted his head back and drank the whole glass. Vivian's face stiffened. She quickly poured another drink and handed it to me. "Then have this one. It's low alcohol. You won't get drunk." I looked at the tiny, un-dissolved bubbles in the clear liquid and took the glass. "There we go!" Vivian’s smile beamed again. Under the watchful eyes of several people, I raised the glass. I pretended to take a sip, but right before the rim touched my lips, I winced and covered my mouth. "I can't... the smell of alcohol is making me gag," I said, slamming the glass onto the table. I turned toward the exit. "I need to use the restroom!" "Chloe!" Marcus tried to follow. "Don't follow me!" I snapped without looking back. I rushed out of the booth and straight into the restroom. I locked myself in a stall and immediately forced myself to throw up the tiny bit of liquid I had purposely held in my mouth. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my icy reflection in the mirror. The drug would kick in within ten minutes. The hidden spy camera I had tucked behind the frame of the painting in the VIP booth should already be rolling. I fixed my face, opened the door, but didn't go back to the booth. Instead, I slipped down the fire exit and quickly left the lounge. The show was about to begin.
I contacted Sienna, the girl behind CampusWatch. She was already waiting for me at the campus gates. For safety, we had been on a call the whole time, but she didn't breathe a sigh of relief until I got into her car. Sienna looked quiet and delicate, but she had a fiery personality. "Let me tell you, Chloe, if I wasn't afraid of blowing your cover, I would have beaten that trashy couple up myself," Sienna said. "What is wrong with those disgusting people? To use such a cheap, illegal trick. I despise gold-digging guys who try to climb the social ladder through women, and fake besties who stab you in the back. They can play nice all they want, but trash is trash. Greedy bastards. I hope they rot." Her words were harsh, but she wasn't wrong. I couldn't help but chuckle. Sienna realized how worked up she was and stopped. "Sorry, I got carried away." "It's fine. It felt good hearing you call them out." She gave an awkward smile, then turned to me. "So, what’s the plan now?" I leaned back against the seat, feeling a bit exhausted. "Let’s find a motel for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll bring the dean and campus security to the lounge and make a massive scene. Let’s destroy their reputations first." Sienna slammed her hand on the steering wheel. "Deal! I'll call some friends to back us up tomorrow." She dropped me off at a local motel and promised to pick me up in the morning. I took a shower, lay down on the bed, and opened the live feed from the hidden camera on my phone. Inside the VIP booth, bottles were scattered everywhere. Marcus was gone—presumably searching for me in a panic. But the drug had kicked in, and the alcohol had amplified it. The crowd in the booth had lost all sense of reality. Soon, Marcus burst back into the room, panting heavily. "She’s gone! Stop drinking, everyone, and help me find her!" But who in that room was sober enough to listen? Before Marcus could finish his sentence, a flushed figure stumbled forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind. It was Vivian. Her face was bright red, her eyes glassy from the drug. "Marcus... forget about her..." her voice was slurred as she clung to him. Hunter and the other guys, their eyes vacant and unfocused, didn't stop them. Instead, they laughed and cheered. The scene quickly degenerated into utter chaos.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "NovelMaster" app ? search for "448273", and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster