I had just wrapped an international merger deal, and the jet lag felt like lead in my bones as I dragged my suitcase into the foyer. That’s when I saw them: a pair of men’s sneakers that absolutely did not belong here. Crisp, designer high-tops, a limited drop, and definitely not a small size. They were tossed carelessly by the door, a silent, arrogant declaration of the intruder’s presence. Almost instantly, the semi-transparent, relentless torrent of text that only I could see—The Feed—began to scroll across my vision. 【HOLY SHIT! The forced-love scene is finally here! Tristan’s making his move!】 【AHHHH! Tonight’s the night! Cook that rice, baby! Go, go, go!】 【Wait until that stuck-up mom gets home and loses it, LOL. Her daughter belongs to our Tristan now!】 I watched the words with an expressionless face. They swarmed like a cloud of buzzing, bloodthirsty gnats directly on my retina. 1 My name is Delaney Stone. I’m a commercial litigator, known for my ruthless precision in the courtroom, and a single mother. Three days ago, I woke up. I realized I was trapped inside a toxic young adult novel titled The Exclusive Obsession of the Campus Psychopath. My role? The villainous mother, Delaney, who tries to keep the main characters apart, only to be utterly destroyed—her life ruined, her daughter’s future devastated, and finally, herself dying wretchedly in a psychiatric facility—by the "blackened" male lead. My daughter, Maya, is the tragic heroine. She would be kidnapped, tormented, and eventually develop severe Stockholm Syndrome, mistaking her captivity and trauma for "undying love." And the owner of the shoes by the door, Tristan Kael, was the male lead—the so-called "beautiful, powerful, and tragic" hero. A maniac who packaged stalking, harassment, and violent coercion as deep affection, and who romanticized his own obsession and possessiveness as salvation. I lifted my gaze toward my daughter’s tightly closed bedroom door. Faintly, I could hear muffled sobs and a boy’s impatient, low attempts at persuasion. The Feed kept scrolling. 【Don’t cry, Maya! Tristan loves you so much! Your mom is such a puritan, what does she know about real love?】 【Seriously, this mom needs to just die and stop getting in the way of our ship!】 【Hurry up, hurry up! I can’t wait for the forced-love payoff!】 I silently set down my suitcase, kicked off my high heels, and walked toward the kitchen, my bare feet sinking into the carpet. I didn't call 911. I didn't call building security. Against a rabid dog that skirts the edge of the law, conventional methods only serve to excite them further. From the utensil block, I took the weapon I’d bought specifically for processing large cuts of meat: a heavy-duty, razor-sharp bone cleaver. The blade glinted under the recessed lights, cold and unforgiving. The Feed seemed to sense the shift. It paused for a brief, shuddering moment. 【??? What is the mom doing? Is she grabbing a knife?】 【That’s not in the script! She’s supposed to be pounding on the door and begging the ML to let her daughter go!】 【Whoa, wait a second. Something is off. Her eyes look insane.】 I ignored them. I walked, step by calculated step, to Maya’s bedroom door. It was locked from the inside. “BOOM!” I lifted my foot and drove it, with all the focused force of a trained athlete, into the door right next to the lockset. The solid-core wooden door shuddered violently. The sounds from inside ceased immediately. “Who the hell is that!” Tristan’s voice, sharp with alarm and irritation, cut through the silence. The Feed exploded. 【WTF! She kicked the door?! This mom is unhinged!】 【Spicy! Is the plot twisting?! Author, get your ass in here!】 I offered no response. I simply stepped back, focused, and drove my heel into the same spot. “CRACK!” The second impact. A spiderweb of cracks formed in the wood around the shattered lock housing. “SMASH!” The third. The lock assembly disintegrated with a wrenching sound, and the door flew inward, slamming against the wall. The scene inside was instantly exposed. My daughter, Maya, was huddled on the corner of her bed, her school blouse torn open at the shoulder, tears streaming down her pale face. She was trembling uncontrollably. Tristan, the boy The Feed worshiped as the "God-Tier Campus King," was straddling her, one hand pinning her wrist, the other reaching for a button on her top. He was clearly stunned by the sudden violence. He froze, his body rigid, and turned his head to stare at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. The-Feed-was-in-ecstasy. 【OMG, that position! Tristan is so Alpha!】 【The mom’s arrival is perfect! Let her watch her daughter become his!】 【Hurry, Tristan! Do it right now! That’ll really piss off the old hag!】 Tristan recognized me. The shock on his face rapidly curdled into a mix of contempt and aggressive provocation. He even managed a playful, wicked grin, leaning down to Maya’s ear and speaking just loud enough for me to hear. “Look, Maya. Mommy’s home. Should we… continue what we started, right here, in front of her?” Maya’s trembling intensified. Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “You… let go of me…” “Let go of you?” Tristan scoffed, his gaze locked on mine in a pure act of defiance. “Look, Ma’am—don’t blame me. Maya and I are soulmates. You’re the one trying to tear us apart.” I looked at his face, flushed with adrenaline and dark excitement. I looked at the obscene comments scrolling before my eyes. Slowly, I raised the heavy cleaver in my hand. “What was that?” My voice was unnervingly quiet. “It’s loud in here. I didn’t quite catch that.” I aimed the blade directly at him. Tristan’s pupils constricted. He probably thought I was bluffing. The Feed did, too. 【What’s she doing? A middle-aged woman with a cleaver thinks she’s some kind of action star?】 【LOL. Does she really think she can touch a hair on our Tristan’s head?】 The very next second, I moved. I didn't charge him. I simply whipped my wrist, putting every ounce of my body weight into the throw, sending the heavy bone cleaver flying. The blade cut a terrifying arc through the air, whooshing with the speed of its passage. Its target was not Tristan, but the heavy wrought-iron and crystal fixture directly above his head. “CLANG!” A deafening, metallic snap. The fixture's main chain was precisely severed. The massive chandelier, dragging countless glass shards and wires, CRASHED! Tristan reacted on pure instinct, rolling off the bed and scrambling sideways, narrowly evading the impact. But Maya, pinned beneath him, was not so lucky. I would never hurt my daughter. In the instant the chandelier fell, I shot forward, grabbed the paralyzed Maya off the bed, and pulled her tight against me, shielding her body with my own. “KABOOM!” The crystal light fixture obliterated the mattress, turning the soft bed into a chaos of pulverized glass, twisted metal, and springs. Several shards of glass sliced Tristan’s cheek and arm, leaving bright red trails. He stared, dumbfounded, at the wreckage. If he had been half a second slower, he would have been crushed. The entire room fell into a deathly silence. The Feed stopped entirely. After a full five seconds, a single line of text appeared, shaky and hesitant. 【…she’s… she’s psychotic… this mom is a stone-cold lunatic…】 I held my daughter, who was still shaking violently, and stood up from the wreckage. My eyes, cold and assessing, settled on Tristan. He was clutching his bleeding face, and for the first time, his expression was a raw mix of terror and disbelief. “You…” I cut him off. I walked over, picked up the largest shard of glass near his feet—its edge was sharp enough to reflect his ashen face. I knelt down, and with that deadly piece of glass, I lightly tapped his cheek. “Now,” I looked him directly in the eye, asking, word for word, “Can you hear me clearly?” Tristan’s lips trembled. He stared at the shard of glass, which was easily capable of slitting his throat, and couldn't utter a single sound. The contempt and swagger in his eyes had evaporated. Only fear remained. The pure, paralyzing fear one feels when confronted by a superior predator. 2 Tristan scrambled away, practically crawling. He even forgot his designer high-tops. The Feed was a scene of collective grief and bewilderment. 【I swear! My yandere hero just got scared off like a puppy? Character assassination!】 【What in God’s name is this mom’s background? She’s brutal! I thought she was going to murder him right there.】 【NGL, that was kind of hot? Psycho vs. Psycho?】 I didn't care about The Feed, nor did I bother to chase Tristan. I knew he would be back. A narcissist and obsessive like him, whose ego was his universe, would never accept this humiliation. He would return for an amplified, vicious revenge. I shut the broken door, wedged the heavy sofa against it, and turned to hold my still-shaking daughter. “It’s alright, Maya. You’re safe. Mom’s here.” Maya buried her face in my shoulder and burst into deep, heart-wrenching sobs. Her body was fluttering like a leaf in an autumn storm. “Mom… I’m so scared… He… he wasn’t like this…” I knew exactly what she meant. In the original narrative, Tristan first appeared as Maya’s “savior.” Because of my own supposed “high-pressure parenting,” Maya was shy and insecure. When she was bullied at school, Tristan stepped in to protect her. This created the foundation for her dependence and the first stirrings of a confused attraction. She had no idea that her "tormentors" had all been put up to it by Tristan himself. A perfectly orchestrated, self-directed act of heroism had stolen my daughter’s initial trust. “I know, baby,” I stroked her back, my voice impossibly soft. “I know everything. But I promise you, he will never hurt you again. I guarantee it.” After calming her down and ensuring she had locked herself securely in the room, I began my cleanup. First, I called the building management. I reported a home invasion and attempted robbery, stating the door was forced and the property damaged. I demanded security be dispatched immediately and all hallway surveillance footage be secured. Then, I dialed a number I hadn't used in years. A lazy, smoky voice answered. “Well, well, if it isn’t Delaney Stone, the Great Litigator. Did you finally finish your merger case?” “Quinn, I need a favor. Now.” I went straight to the point. “Run a background check on someone: Tristan Kael. Seventeen, St. Jude's Academy.” Quinn was a college friend, now a private investigator with a notorious reputation. “Tristan Kael?” Quinn chuckled. “Oh, I know that name. The Kael Group’s messy little bastard son. What did he do? Key your Lexus?” “He tried to assault my daughter.” The laugh vanished. Quinn’s voice hardened. “Send me the address. I’ll have every dirty little detail on him, from his first parking ticket to who he stole a lollipop from in kindergarten, within three days.” I hung up, staring out at the heavy night outside. My gaze was ice cold. The Feed was still drifting by in scattered lines. 【Investigating Tristan? Useless. The Kael family practically owns Portland. What can one small-time lawyer do?】 【Just wait for Tristan to come back with backup and settle this with the mother-daughter duo.】 【Yeah, put this mom in the dark room, too. Hehehe…】 I scoffed. You think this is over? You think I'll be like the "evil mother" in your plot, relying only on useless methods like calling the police or complaining to the school? No. You underestimate me. You want a psychopath. You want forced love. You want a storyline that spirals out of control. Fine. I will give you a performance of utter, unhinged chaos. The very next morning, the school called. The principal’s voice was strained and frantic. “Mrs. Stone, you need to come in right now! Maya… something awful has happened!” My heart sank, but I kept my tone calm. “What exactly is going on?” “On the school forum… someone posted… some inappropriate pictures of Maya… The whole school is seeing them…” I ended the call, my eyes the temperature of liquid nitrogen. Tristan’s retaliation was faster and more vicious than I had anticipated. I arrived at St. Jude's Academy to find Maya surrounded by a cluster of students in a classroom corner. They were pointing, whispering vile comments. “Hey, Maya, that’s you in the pictures, right? Didn’t realize you were such a freak.” “How wild do you get with the Campus King? Was it good?” Maya was clutching her backpack, her head bowed, her face paper-white and silent. I strode over and shoved the most aggressive boy standing in front. “Move.” My appearance silenced the immediate circle. The boy I pushed, one of Tristan’s lackeys, stumbled, turned, and glared at me. “Who the hell are you?” I ignored him. I walked straight to my daughter, took off my trench coat, and wrapped it around her, pulling her close into my arms. “Mom…” Maya’s tears immediately began to flow. “Don’t be scared,” I patted her back, then lifted my head, my eyes sweeping over the young, malicious faces surrounding us. “Who posted the pictures?” No one spoke. The boy I had pushed, Leo, scoffed. “Ma’am, your daughter’s the one who posed for them. Don’t try to play the innocent victim here.” I looked at him and smiled slowly. “Your name is Leo, correct?” The boy froze. “How… how do you know that?” “Leo Davis. Grade 11, Section C, Student ID 24. You were suspended last month for fighting at an off-campus club. Your father is a mid-level manager at City Planning, and your mother works at the department store. You’re currently pursuing a girl named Tiffany in the next class, and you stole three hundred dollars from your dad to buy her a designer bag, didn’t you?” Leo’s face completely changed. His arrogance dissolved into sheer terror. “You… you investigated me?!” The surrounding students started murmuring, their eyes now wary. I didn't acknowledge his panic. I continued: “As for the photos, they’re synthetic. The Photoshop work is amateurish. Any forensic photo expert can tell. I have already contacted the police and my litigation team. You, and every single student who has made a derogatory comment on the forum, will be receiving a cease-and-desist letter within the hour.” “Defamation is a serious crime. Depending on the severity, it can carry a penalty of jail time. Since you are minors, you won’t be incarcerated, but the resulting felony record will follow you for life. Say goodbye to college applications, federal jobs, and any chance of a clean start.” My voice was low, but every word sliced through the tension. The students, who minutes ago had been so bold, now looked sickly pale. 【HOLY SHIT! This mom is a professional!】 【I take back everything! She’s not a puritan, she’s a predator!】 【LOL, these pathetic brats got a major reality check. They picked the wrong fight.】 I allowed myself a moment to appreciate their fear, then shifted my attention to the teacher hiding in the corner. “Ms. Williams,” I said, looking at the stunned principal. “As the homeroom teacher, my daughter has been subjected to severe bullying and slander in your class, and you stood by and watched. I believe I need to have a serious discussion with the District and the Board about your professional conduct.” The principal’s face turned the color of beet juice. Just then, an arrogant voice cut in from the doorway. “Oh, what a lively scene.” Tristan had arrived. He had a bandage on his cheek and a wrap on his arm. He swaggered in, trailed by a few large, menacing boys. His presence was a shot of confidence to the students, who immediately began to look less terrified. Tristan stopped in front of me, looking down with eyes full of pure malice and triumph. “Mrs. Stone, I told you you’d regret crossing me.” He smiled, utterly feral. “This is just the beginning. I will make your daughter unlivable in this city, completely destroy her name, and she will crawl back to me on her hands and knees.” He believed he had won. The Feed agreed. 【Tristan is dominant! We love this psycho-energy!】 【That’s right! When dealing with an annoying bitch, you use the nuclear option!】 I looked at him. And I smiled, too.
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