Chapter 1

Vianna Sterling, the supposedly pure and impoverished scholarship student, swatted away the Ivy League offer Gideon Vance held in his hand.

"Don't use your privilege to insult me!" she cried.

I was even poorer than her. I picked up the admission letter that had fallen at my feet and carefully handed it back to the wealthy heir.

Gideon looked me up and down.

"If you can get Vianna to accept this spot, I'll recommend you for admission too," he said.

Afraid I might actually take the spot, Vianna quickly snatched it back.

From that day on, both Vianna and I were funded by the Vance family's educational foundation.

The difference was that I got my chance to study abroad by being Gideon's loyal follower.

Vianna got hers because Gideon practically knelt to give her the best of everything.

Gideon eventually pulled me into his bed, using me as a substitute.

Until the day Vianna returned to the country.

He said, "Vianna is a bit bothered by the fact that I had a thing with you. Go find yourself a boyfriend."

I simply said, "Okay."

1

At five in the morning, the blanket was ripped off my skin.

The freezing air hit me instantly.

I opened my eyes to see Gideon Vance standing by the bed.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, every strand of hair in place.

He looked like he was heading to a major board meeting, not like he had just climbed out of my bed.

"One hour," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

"Clear all your things out of here."

I froze.

He added, "Vianna is coming back."

Vianna Sterling.

That name was like an ice pick stabbing my heart.

I got up in silence and started packing.

I didn't have much.

Everything fit into a single suitcase.

A toothbrush, a towel, a few changes of clothes.

And that worn-out copy of "One Hundred Years of Solitude" on the nightstand.

Gideon leaned against the doorframe, watching me with cold indifference.

"Change the pillowcases and the sheets too," he ordered.

"She doesn't like the scent of strangers."

I nodded, quickly stripping the bed.

I revealed the pristine white mattress underneath.

It looked so clean, as if no one had ever slept there.

As if I had never existed.

Gideon's gaze fell on the ceramic mug in my hand.

There was a tiny chip on the rim.

I had accidentally knocked it when I first moved in.

"Throw that away too," he said.

My hand paused as I was about to put it in the suitcase.

"I bought this with my own money."

"It's ugly," he said flatly.

I didn't argue. I took it out and tossed it into the trash.

The sound of the ceramic shattering was sharp and clear.

After finishing the bedroom, I started on the living room.

I picked up the long strands of hair I'd dropped in the sofa cracks.

I wiped away the water rings I'd left on the coffee table.

I grabbed my three-year-old canvas shoes from the entryway.

Gideon followed behind me like a supervisor.

He was making sure I erased every single trace of my existence.

Finally, I stood at the door, clutching my suitcase.

"Gideon," I called out softly.

He looked up from his phone, his eyes full of impatience.

"Where am I supposed to live now?"

He seemed to find my question hilarious.

"I had an apartment rented for you near the office."

"The keys are with the building manager."

"Don't contact me for a while," he added after a pause.

"Vianna needs time to adjust after being back."

"If she's in a bad mood, my life will be miserable."

I understood.

I was his emotional trash can and a tool to keep his golden girl happy.

If he was unhappy, I was the one who suffered.

I pulled my suitcase and walked into the cold morning mist.