Chapter 4

The news that David and I had “slept together” spread across Brentwood University’s Instagram Page like wildfire.

My childhood friend had helped leak the story, and the more scandalous and unbelievable it sounded, the better.

I wanted Rachel to feel cornered, furious.

I didn’t care if she hated me. I wanted her to feel the pressure of having to protect her rich “rapist” boyfriend’s reputation.

Rachel soon moved back to the dorms, keeping an eye on me under the guise of concern, but I knew the truth: she didn’t want me calling the cops and ruining her chance to marry into wealth.

The day after I moved back, David texted me.

“Emily, we need to talk.”

“Let’s talk off-campus,” I replied. “I don’t want to be seen here.”

“Fine,” he agreed.

Knowing David liked to dress in black, I picked a black long-sleeve shirt and hat, wrapping myself in a disguise. My friend was ready with a camera to capture every moment.

As soon as I got outside, David’s sleek Maybach was parked across the street. I climbed into the back seat.

David’s face was tense as he stared at me in the rearview mirror. “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care. Let’s just drive.”

We circled the city aimlessly, and though I felt a pang of guilt for what I was doing to him, thoughts of my dead mother hardened my heart again.

I couldn’t tell him the truth yet. Rachel’s poison had already seeped too deep into his mind. If I revealed everything too soon, he wouldn’t believe me. I’d lose my chance for revenge.

There was a heavy silence before David finally spoke. “Emily, about that night… I’m sorry.

David's voice was low, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry about what happened that night. I know I drank too much, but honestly, a single bottle of sake shouldn’t have knocked me out like that. Rachel and I have been going over it, and… something feels off.”

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn't expected him to suspect anything so soon. Still, I kept my composure. “What do you mean?”

David hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Doesn’t it seem strange? Like maybe someone else was involved?”

I cut him off, tears streaming down my face. “Are you accusing me of something? Why would I set you up? I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. What reason would I have?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything—”

“You think I’d ruin myself just to frame you for something you didn’t do?” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “You’re trying to cover up what you did by throwing dirt on me!”

David exhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Fine,” I shot back, my anger rising. “Let’s go to the police. I still have the underwear with your DNA on it from that night. We’ll see who’s lying.”

Before he could respond, I threw open the car door and stormed down the street.

“Emily, wait!” David chased after me, grabbing my arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I yanked my arm away, playing up the distress. “You don’t get it! You ruined my life! You treated me like I’m nothing but a—” I choked on my words, collapsing into sobs on his chest.

David, shaken, tried to comfort me. “I’ll make it right. I’ll fix this. Whatever you need. I’m truly sorry.”

As I cried into his shoulder, my friend discreetly snapped photos from a distance—David pulling me close, my tear-streaked face buried in his shirt. The images would fuel the next wave of gossip on the Brentwood University Instagram Page.

Rachel would see these and lose her mind.

“I don’t want your money, David,” I whispered, ensuring my voice trembled just enough. “Let’s just pretend none of this happened. For my sake, for Rachel’s.”

David’s expression softened, filled with guilt. “If that’s what you want.”

I gave a small nod. “Thank you. I just… I just need to move on.”

With that, I hailed a cab back to Langston Hall, leaving David standing there, visibly torn and conflicted. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he was an unavoidable casualty in my war against Rachel.

Back at the dorm, Rachel was waiting for me. Her eyes were red, but her smile was disturbingly calm. “Emily, where have you been?”

I shrugged, playing it off. “Just went for a walk.”

Rachel wrapped her arms around me in a fake hug, her voice sugary sweet. “I was so worried about you. Come with me to a party tonight. It’ll take your mind off everything.”

She was inviting me to a "celebration"—the same excuse she used that night in sophomore year when she lured me to the Hilton Hotel. She was preparing to make her move.

Only this time, she was the prey, and I was the hunter.