The girl I grew up with was in love with the campus king. The king, however, was obsessed with her arch-nemesis. So, Donna lost her mind. She turned to me, her loyal lapdog. "Kian, I want you to seduce Lydia Moriarty. Knock her off her pedestal." My first instinct was to say no. Lydia Moriarty was notoriously difficult. But then, a string of comments materialized before my eyes: [This idiot… who cares who he chases? Lydia's family is way richer than Donna's!] [He doesn't know it yet, but if he refuses Donna today, he'll be kicked out of the Xavier mansion tomorrow.] [And the worst part? Because Donna's upset, Mr. Xavier won't give him a dime.] [That's a seven-figure payout down the drain!] Come again? A seven-figure fortune, just… gone? The “no” on the tip of my tongue did a sharp U-turn. I looked at Donna, my face a mask of heartbreak. "Lydia Moriarty? Alright… I'll try." 1 I'm an adopted son of the Xavier family. And, unofficially, Donna Xavier's personal lapdog. Donna always looked at me with that familiar, cutting disdain. "Kian, I've never met anyone as pathetic as you." Night after night, the only warmth I felt came from the balance in my bank account. I was just doing a job for Mr. Xavier, a job that came with a hefty paycheck. So I let her insults and psychological jabs roll right off me. Her friends once gave her a brilliant idea. For a guy on the make like me, the best way to put him in his place was to trample his dignity with cash. God save us from the sudden bright ideas of the terminally stupid. Donna casually tossed a stack of bills at my face. "Get lost. The sight of you makes me sick." It was pouring rain outside that day. On the outside, I looked like I was about to shatter. On the inside, I was discreetly stuffing the cash into my bag. As I turned to leave, I made sure to clutch my chest dramatically, a single, perfectly timed tear rolling down my cheek just before her expression could sour. That performance bought me a night off from waiting on her. After that, Donna figured she’d found the perfect way to handle me. Whenever she didn't want to see me, she’d just throw money at me to make me disappear. The fool. She had no idea how thrilled I was. This time, she tossed a card at me. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "I want you to seduce Lydia Moriarty. Knock her off her pedestal." "What?" I seriously wondered if she’d lost her mind. Donna’s brow furrowed. "You're the best at sucking up to people, aren't you? Use all those pathetic tricks you pull on me, but on her." Her voice hardened. "Make Ethan give up on her for good." Ethan Ford. Heir to the Ford fortune. Arrogant, domineering, and utterly self-absorbed. And hopelessly devoted to Lydia Moriarty. People are twisted. The more he couldn't stand Donna, the more desperate she was to have him. Desperate enough to throw me to the wolves. I may be a professional sycophant, but I have my principles. One client at a time. Besides, Mr. Xavier was already paying me a six-figure monthly salary. Going after Lydia Moriarty was a high-risk gamble. My first instinct was to refuse. I'd already plastered the perfect look of wounded vulnerability onto my face when those comments flickered into existence again: [This idiot… who cares who he chases? Lydia's family is way richer than Donna's!] [He doesn't know it yet, but if he refuses Donna today, he'll be kicked out of the Xavier mansion tomorrow.] [And the worst part? Because Donna's upset, Mr. Xavier won't give him a dime.] [That's a seven-figure payout down the drain!] Come again? A seven-figure fortune, just… gone? 2 Seeing me frozen in place, Donna’s patience wore thin. "Kian, stop it. You could strip naked in front of me and I still wouldn't feel a thing." Mr. Xavier had plucked me from an orphanage when I was ten, a companion for a young Donna who had a slight speech impediment. My sunny, easy-going nature was supposed to help. Faced with a sudden life of luxury, I was a whirlwind of excitement, chattering away to her constantly. Within a few years, her impediment was gone. But Mr. Xavier, ever cautious, kept me on as her companion, paying me a monthly salary. Donna had a terrible temper. She and her clique of mean girls made my life a living hell. But I'd known real poverty, the kind that gnaws at your bones. I couldn't walk away from the money. The comments kept scrolling. [Damn, that mouth on her. Kissing her would be like drinking poison.] [Poor Kian. Mr. Xavier's just going to use him and toss him aside.] [He's terrified Donna might actually fall for Kian and ruin the arranged marriage with the Fords.] [Take the card, you fool! Agree to go after Lydia! You'll be getting paid by both sides. It's the dream!] So, saying no would cost me a fortune. Good thing my face was already set in an expression of pure, practiced misery. Before the word "no" could escape my lips, I blinked, letting my eyes well up. Slowly, with a kind of deadened resignation, I reached for the card. Seeing the tears in my eyes, Donna’s expression shifted. She seemed desperate to get rid of me, like I was a hot potato. She snatched her hand back. "The PIN is your birthday." "Does it really have to come to this?" I whispered, my brow furrowed in pain. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, nonchalant. "What else?" "Fine. I'll do it." "You…" I spun around and ran, not waiting to hear the rest. No way was I sticking around. If I waited a second longer, she might change her mind, and I’d be out a whole lot of cash. 3 The next morning, I packed my bags and moved out of the Xavier mansion. The comments had been right. Last night, Mr. Xavier had called me into his study. He said that I was an adult now, that he had fulfilled his duty as my guardian. To avoid any "gossip," he offered me five million dollars to leave the Xavier household for good. Staring at the long string of zeros on the bank transfer, I almost burst out laughing. That night, tucked in bed, I was grinning like an idiot as I called a real estate agent. He was efficient, finding me a new place in no time. I was so ecstatic, I didn't even bother saying goodbye to Donna. I just left. The comments were still buzzing: [Wait, Kian is obsessed with money, but he agreed to stop chasing Donna? Something's not right.] [I'm not saying I'm jealous, but who makes millions overnight? Damn, kid, you've got it made!] [Isn't the plot supposed to be: Kian refuses, gets kicked out, shamelessly clings to Donna, and then gets put in his place by the male lead?] [Is he actually going to go after Lydia Moriarty?] 4 Lydia Moriarty was a fortress. A goddess born into privilege, with a face that could launch a thousand ships. Her name was a permanent fixture on the campus confessions page. Someone even started a group chat just to sell her photos. I joined the group and bought out the entire collection. Then I dropped a bombshell: "I'm going to win her over." No one thought I was delusional. Instead, they offered advice. "Pro-tip: Don't try the 'clumsy fall' trick. I pretended to be some cute, innocent guy and tripped in front of her. She walked right past me without a second glance. Do you know how hot 45-degree pavement is? My kneecaps nearly melted!" "Giving her water is even worse! I almost got crushed into a human pancake by the crowd!" "Move it, people! I snuck into her lecture, and the professor called me out on the spot. 'The student in the back wearing dinosaur pajamas, please come solve this partial differential equation.' I couldn't even read the question! Now the whole business school thinks we have a moron T-Rex in our midst!" … I took mental notes. And then I staked out the locker room. Lydia, fresh off the badminton court, walked in. The breeze lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing a glimpse of sleek, defined abs. Beneath her grey athletic skirt, her legs were long and toned. My heart hammered against my ribs. "Seen enough?" A cool voice sliced through the air. I looked up, straight into a pair of classic, almond-shaped eyes. I had to admit, Lydia Moriarty had a face that could stop your heart. Her eyes tilted up slightly at the corners, and a tiny mole dotted the left side of her perfect nose. She radiated an aura of cool, aristocratic distance. Her brow furrowed with annoyance. "You have a crush on me?" "Huh?" Her lips were thin, her voice chilling. "Don't play these games. You're not my type." "Oh." Lydia's expression flickered. As she brushed past me, she paused. "Kian." "Yeah?" A few beads of sweat trickled from her hairline down to the delicate hollow of her collarbone. She looked down. "Go back and tell Donna Xavier to stay away from me." Damn, she was smart. Suddenly, I was intrigued. "Want to bet I'll be your boyfriend one day?" "No." 5 Whatever. I posted one of the candid shots I'd just taken to the group chat as a teaser. Five dollars for a set of twenty. My DMs exploded instantly. If you can't beat them, join them. And every penny counts. A high-volume, low-margin business model would at least earn back the money I'd spent buying the photos in the first place. When Lydia came out of the shower, looking fresh and clean, she saw me squatting by the trash can. She frowned. "Waiting for me?" I was busy replying to messages. People were calling me a pro, saying my shots were amazing. That 25 cents a picture was basically charity. I glanced up, answering automatically. "Yeah." Lydia pursed her lips. She pulled a broken bracelet from her bag, about to toss it. I lunged forward. "Can I have that?" She froze. "You want my trash?" "Yep." She looked genuinely startled, then opened her hand. "You like me that much?" The bracelet landed softly in my palm. I gave her a warm, gentle smile. "Just being near you is enough to make me happy." Lydia's brow furrowed. She turned and strode away, as if fleeing a persistent pest, but the tips of her ears were flushed a faint pink. Probably just the heat. I snapped back to reality and sent a picture of the bracelet to the group. "Fresh off the press! Lydia Moriarty's exclusive bracelet! It broke during her match, but I can fix it. This is a personal item, people. DM me with your best offers!" [Mouth_of_a_Sailor]: "Is that really hers?" [Midnight_Sad_Boi]: "I saw her playing badminton with it on! It's hers!" The group admin even chimed in, tagging me: "Dude, you're a legend. How'd you get your hands on a personal item so fast?" You know it. All for the money, honey. That’s my motto. 6 The next day was the Go club's welcome meeting. I ran into Lydia at the entrance. She frowned and took a half-step back. "You again?" Like a magician, I produced a bottle of water from my bag. "If I want to win you over, I have to be seen, right?" She stared at the bottle I held out. Her fingers twitched. It was the brand she always drank. Before she could refuse, the club president called my name from across the room. While she was distracted, I shoved the water into her arms and scurried away. After the introductions, the president announced we were pairing up for practice games. A classmate, Sophie, immediately slid up to me. "Kian, want to be partners?" Before I could answer, a familiar water bottle was thrust between us. Lydia had materialized behind me. Her face was a cold mask as she pushed the water back into my hands and turned to leave. I had to apologize to Sophie. I hurried after Lydia. "Hey, Lydia, want to be partners?" "Didn't you already find someone?" she clipped out. I circled around to face her, my eyes curving into a smile. "But I came here for you." I gently pulled her to a nearby table. "Everyone's already paired up. It's just us left." As we played, our fingers brushed. She snatched her hand back, the tips of her ears turning red again. "Do you even know how to play?" I watched her, smiling. "The president told me you're a 5-dan professional. If I beat you, can I claim a prize?" "What kind of prize?" The hand holding the black stone paused. She seemed to realize she was playing into my hands and hesitated. But I sealed the deal before she could object. "Something you can definitely do." Just then, my phone buzzed with a group chat notification. Lydia’s gaze fell to my screen, and her eyes widened in shock. I had set one of the pictures I took of her as my lock screen. Remembering the whole photo-selling business, I quickly turned the screen off and met her gaze. "It's not illegal to have a picture of the person you like as your wallpaper, is it?" "…" When she didn't say anything, I pressed my advantage. "I took a really nice photo of you the other day. My friends want to see it too. Is it okay if I show them?" "Your face is a work of art. Men see it and fall in love, women see it and go crazy, old people…" "Stop!" She turned away, the blush on her ears spreading down her neck. "Whatever." "Great." "By the way," she added, her voice smug. "You lost." I pointed at the board. Comprehension dawned on her face. Her eyebrows shot up. "You were distracting me on purpose?" Her competitive spirit ignited. "That doesn't count. Let's go again." Fifteen minutes later. I smiled. "You let me win." "And about that prize… you can't go back on your word." Not giving her a chance to refuse, I held up my phone. "I recorded you. A deal's a deal." Lydia had clearly never encountered anyone as shameless as me. She finally gritted her teeth. "You've certainly got some moves." You bet I do. Thanks to Donna, I was forced to learn a whole host of skills she couldn't be bothered with as a child, just so I could cover for her. Chess, horseback riding, violin… you name it, I had at least a working knowledge of it. 7 After that, Lydia stopped being surprised whenever she saw me around campus. The consensus in the group chat was that out of all her pursuers, I had the best shot. The guys who used to sell her photos took mediocre pictures from bad angles. I, on the other hand, always found her good side. A few of my shots were so close you could see the fine, downy hair on her cheeks. They figured she must have been letting me get that close. One afternoon in the library, I spotted her immediately, head bent over a textbook. Beauty, I realized, was an aura. Especially when it came to a focused woman. She stood out from the crowd like a crane among chickens. I was about to head over when a hand clamped onto my arm and yanked me into the hallway. It was Donna, who I hadn't seen in ages. She wore the same condescending expression. "There's a volunteer event in front of the library tomorrow at noon. You're going for me. Oh, and you'll be wearing a mascot costume." It had been so long, I'd almost forgotten about this nuisance. I'd already moved out of her house. I had no obligation to be nice to her anymore. "I'm busy," I said, my voice cold. "What could possibly be more important than what I need?" Had her brain completely checked out? I let out a humorless laugh and spelled it out for her. "Winning over Lydia Moriarty." Donna’s expression froze, her face darkening like a storm cloud. "Oh, really?" "Yeah, really. What, you regret it now? Because I'm not giving the money back," I said, done with pretending. I started to walk away. She grabbed my arm, her jaw tight. "Twenty thousand. To fill in for me tomorrow." "Not interested. It's too hot for that." "Fifty thousand." "No. I'll get heatstroke in that costume." "Two hundred thousand." "Deal." "…" I pulled my arm free. "Anything else?" As I reached the door, I heard her mutter, "Kian, you really are a disloyal dog." I paused and looked back. "Thanks for the compliment. Don't forget to wire the money." As I grabbed the doorknob, I heard the thud of a foot kicking the wall behind me. I couldn't be bothered. I went to find Lydia. 8 But something was off with Lydia. While she studied, she didn't meet my eyes once. A chill emanated from her that was cold enough to give me frostbite. When it was time to leave, she packed her bag and walked out without a word. I scrambled to catch up. Just outside the library, Ethan Ford intercepted her, holding a milk tea and a small cake. He shouldered me aside, beaming at her. "Lydia, you must be exhausted from studying. I had someone wait in line forever to get these for you. Have a taste?" He thrust the items toward her. Lydia looked thoroughly annoyed. She didn't reach for them. But as her gaze shifted, she froze. I followed her line of sight. Damn it. How did the bracelet I'd gotten from her end up on Ethan's wrist? I thought I sold it to some other guy in the group. Noticing her stare, Ethan proudly held up his wrist, giving it a little twirl. "No doubt about it, this is yours! I bought it off some guy." "Cost me a pretty penny, too," he added smugly. Damn it all to hell. The guy who bought it said he was short on cash, so I took pity on him and sold it for a measly $520. Lydia’s eyes were fixed on me, her voice practically a growl. "How much did you pay for it?" Ethan grinned. "Ten thousand. The second I heard it was yours, I didn't even blink. The seller was a real pro about it, too. The money hit his account, and he handed it over without a second thought. See? All those other guys are faking it. I'm the only one who really likes you." Meanwhile, I was dying a slow, painful death. Damn the middleman! In that moment, I still hadn't grasped the full extent of the disaster unfolding. Not until Lydia pushed Ethan aside and stalked toward me. Her eyes bored into me, and she forced out a single, chilling question: "Kian, care to explain?"
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