Fake Dating The Bad Boy For Revenge. 18+ novel Chapter 5

SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.

It wasn’t real.

But in Ravenscroft Academy, truth never mattered.

Only power did.

And Lucien?

He had all of it. This school was practically his playground—a field his father had given him; he owned everything. He smirks at me, a grin in his eyes as he swirls his phone in his hand, the tattoo of an ace of spades beautifully drawn on the back of his right hand.

Overwhelmed, I rose from my seat, barely giving a damn about who was watching.

Everyone's eyes were on Roxanne, the new object of all gossip.

That's what happens when Lucien strips his protection from you-- you're left on your own, the wolves and sharks ready to close in on you.

I found myself in the girls’ bathroom after that. I needed a second to breathe, maybe to hide, the weight of everything crushing me.

The hum of the fluorescent light above buzzed too loudly, the smell of lavender soap almost suffocating. I gripped the sink, knuckles whitening, watching my reflection like she might give me an answer. My eyes appeared red as I fought the urge to cry.

To scream.

To run... and hide, far away from this school.

A few minutes later, I could feel myself returning to normal as my breathing evened out, my red eyes cleared, and I could finally breathe without the urge to curl up in a ball and cry. The quiet helped; no one else was in the bathroom, so I had my thoughts to myself.

I was wrong.

The door slammed open, the expensive wood hit the wall so hard, I thought it would fly off its hinges; even if it did, the parents would make another generous donation, and it would be forgotten.

I looked at the figure in the mirror; the last person I wanted to see had walked in. Her possey of bimbos behind her.

Roxanne.

“You just can’t stop begging for attention, can you?” she spat, her voice sharp enough to cut. “Slut in a scholarship skirt.” She narrows her eyes, sharpening them into slits that could cut through ice.

But for some reason, maybe it was the weight of it all, the fear of my father finding out, of my father losing his job, of Matt's betrayal.....Lucien's power, and the way it rubbed off on me from this morning, but I made one decision;

Not today.

Not anymore.

I turned slowly, drying my hands on the edge of my skirt, my eyes finding hers in the mirror before I faced her fully. She stood, waiting for my response, probably expecting me to shrink as I always did before her.

“I might be a charity case,” I said, my voice calm like a frozen blade, “but at least I don’t come with a receipt.”

Her mouth parted, the first crack in her perfect porcelain façade. She looks at her possey of bimbos, as though she needed them to speak up on her behalf, but even they were shocked.

“You’re not even his type,” she hissed, her porcelain face turned red; with embarrassment?

Shock?

I didn't know, and I didn't care.

I took a step toward her, tilting my head, studying her the way you might study an insect you’re deciding whether to kill.

She noticed, as she slightly moved back, her eyes sparkling with something I had never seen before.

Fear.

“You’re so plastic, Roxanne…” I let the pause stretch, savoring it. “…even your lies squeak.”

For a moment, she just stood there, chest rising and falling fast, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or cry, her face turned redder as each second passed.

I thought she would burst into flames.

Then I felt it. The weight of a presence.

A shadow shifted just beyond the doorway, and a tall form stood confidently, revealing himself. His smirk was still on his face as his face shone with something.

Satisfaction.

Lucien.

He leaned casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to.

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