Chapter 3

“Oh my God, she showed up dressed like that at such a fancy event?! Gross!”

“Yeah, seriously. A delivery girl? What’s she even doing here? No way a top student from Mid Valley University would fall for trash like her.”

“So shameless. She actually followed him here!”

The whispers buzzed around me like a swarm of angry bees, crawling under my skin and eating away at my nerves.

Camera flashes exploded all at once, nearly blinding me. I looked desperately at Bryce, hoping—just hoping—he’d say something, defend me. But he kept his eyes down, hands shoved deep in his pockets, silent.

Shame, fury, and disbelief crashed inside me like a tidal wave.

I screamed with everything I had left. “No! That’s not true! I didn’t—!”

“Didn’t what? You weren’t a delivery girl? You weren’t assaulted?”

“If none of it’s true, then what the hell is someone like you doing here?”

“Why the silence? Because everything I said is the truth!”

Amara’s cruel smile hovered over me from the stage.

I lunged forward, scratching her arms with my nails.

“You liar! We’ve been together for four years! I cut off my family for him! I worked my ass off to help him start his business!”

Laughter exploded all around me—harsh, mocking, like thunder ripping through the room.

“Security! Get this crazy woman out of here! And from now on, no randoms allowed in.”

Bryce’s voice sliced through the chaos like a knife.

I opened my mouth to fight back, but my throat was dry and silent.

Dragged out by security, I clawed at the metal railing like a trapped animal.

I looked back at him—my nails dug so deep into my palm they bled, but it couldn’t numb the despair drowning my soul.

Why?

Why would he do this to me?

Kicked out of the venue, that question stuck in my throat, unspoken.

I didn’t dare ask it. I was too scared. I was running from the truth.

Four years ago, I’d wandered into the rundown part of the city, cornered in a dark alley by a gang of thugs. Bryce showed up, battered and bruised, and fought them off.

I looked at his swollen face and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll get some medicine and patch you up.”

From that day, I crossed from the glittering north side—the world of wealth and privilege—to the broken, grimy streets of the south every single day.

I knew he was a dropout, a street kid. But I couldn’t stop falling for him.

He taught me how to smoke, drink, skip class, and fight. I got expelled, lost my family’s support, and moved into the slums with him.

Then he took the college entrance exam and got into Mid Valley University.

And me? I became a delivery girl for that very school.

Still, he promised he’d never leave me. No matter where life took him, he said he’d always love me.

That night—when I was dragged into that alley, begging them to stop, getting torn apart—when I was found, my body bruised and broken…

The man who did it flashed a mental illness card and walked free without a scratch.

Bryce stayed by my side through it all. Helped me survive.

That kind of man—I loved him with everything I had. I refused to believe he’d betray me.

But now… everything had shifted.

Like it all changed overnight.

I wandered the streets in a daze.

The headlines were everywhere, my name, my face. Even blurred photos from the assault.

“Delivery Girl with Delusions of Grandeur? Trash Trying to Climb Too High!”

“Dressed Like That—Who Could Blame the Assault?”

“Bryce Wilder’s Curse—Bad Luck for Eight Lifetimes!”

Calls flooded my phone.

“You slut! Why aren’t you dead yet?”

“As a woman, you disgust me!”

Ringing. Buzzing. Nonstop.

My last shred of patience snapped.

“That’s enough! All of you—just stop! If you hate me so much, then kill me already!”

“Nyla, it’s us…”