Dahlia's POV I hurried past the hallways as fast as I could because the way I'm desperate right now, I've never been more desperate in my entire life. The letter I was holding in my hands had crumpled badly, tearing from how many times I had folded it and unfolded it over and over again since I collected it last week. I paused as I got to Dean Prescott's office in this school, Bellmont Academy, my worn out shoes making squeaking noises on the marble floors. 'Please, please just give me until the end this month. The pay from my part time job will soon come in. I swear, it will.' I rehearsed my speech in my head. I've muttered this speech many times than I'd like to admit, but I don't care. The only reason I've been able to stay in this school and breathe the same air as the other rich kids that attended this school with a silver spoon in their mouths was because of this scholarship. But now, as the deadline for tuition payment is coming and with my mother still recovering from the surgery that has drained our little savings, I was running out of options and time. The entire school was now empty as almost all the students had left home for the weekend. The hallways were quiet as I walked through. I passed through the trophy case and saw my reflection staring back at me. My black hair packed in a tight ponytail and green tired eyes. My thrifted...clothes that made me look like I'm suffering, which, to be honest, I was. But I can't afford to think of all these now. I had myself and my mother to save. Man, I was so tired. I was still mentally preparing my speech for Dean Prescott when I turned the corner and noticed that her door was slightly open. Through the gap, I saw him. Vincent Carrington. Of course. Who else would it be if not Vincent Carrington? The golden, untouchable boy of Bellmont Academy. Hockey captain. Heir to the Carrington fortune. The Carrington fortune was so big that if his father wanted to buy the school and turn it into a parking lot, he would. He was the boy that almost every girl wanted and every teacher feared low key. My breath caught in my throat. Inside Dean Prescott's office, she was bent over her desk, her expensive green gown was unbuttoned and the gown was bunched around her hips. Vincent was behind her, his dick buried inside her as he trusted in and out of her mercilessly. She cried in a moan, while one of his hands gripped her waist, the other slapping her ass. They were having sex right there, without bothering to close the door. In her office! I felt the blood drain from my face. I should have looked away. I should have backed up, pretended I saw nothing, and disappeared down the hallway like the invisible scholarship student I'd always been. But I couldn't move. Not because I was shocked, though I was. But watching Vincent Carrington even when he was doing something bad made my heart hurt with that silly feeling I had been carrying around for three years. I had a thing for Vincent Carrington since the time I saw him skate at the Bellmont rink. He was so good at it. He looked really powerful. I thought he was out of my reach. I would sit in the bleachers. Watch him with my sketchbook on my lap, drawing pictures of him with charcoal and pencil. I remembered the way his dark hair fell on his forehead, the way he held his jaw like he thought he was better than everyone and the rare times when I saw something sad in his cold blue eyes. I knew it was pathetic. I knew he would never look twice at someone like me, because I was the scholarship girl in thrift store clothes who could barely afford lunch. But knowing something and feeling it were entirely different things, and my heart had never been very good at listening to reason. Now, watching him take a woman old enough to be his mother on her own desk, that pathetic heart of mine was finally getting the wake-up call it desperately needed. This is who he really is. This is all he'll ever be. My sketchbook slipped from my trembling fingers, hitting the floor with a loud thud that echoed down the empty hallway. Vincent's head snapped up. For one terrible moment, our eyes met through the gap in the door. I saw the flash of recognition in his gaze. That cold, calculating recognition of someone who had just been caught. And then he was moving, pulling out of Dean Prescott with a very high speed, his long legs eating up the distance between us. I didn't wait. I ran. I ran faster than I'd ever run. My heart pounded against my ribs as I rounded corners and ducked through hallways, my sneakers slapping against the marble floors with desperate, frantic steps. I could hear him behind me, his footsteps heavy and I knew I couldn't outrun him forever. He was an athlete. He was built for this. But I had to try. I made a sharp turn toward the bookcase lockers to a narrow room I had discovered in my freshman year, hidden away from the main hallways where I hid when the bullying got too much. If I could just make it there, maybe I could- His hand closed around my arm. I gasped as my back slammed against the metal lockers, the impact knocking the breath out of my lungs. Vincent was there, pressing me against the cold surface with a strength that made struggle feel pointless. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, the other planted flat against the locker beside my head, caging me in. We were both breathing hard. His chest heaved against mine, his face inches from my own, and I could smell the expensive cologne he always wore mixed with the faint scent of sex. I hated that he still looked beautiful. Even now like this. "You saw nothing," he said, his voice low and dangerous. I couldn't speak. My throat was too tight. I just stared at him with wide eyes, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. "Look at me, little scholarship mouse." I lifted my chin, trying to find some scrap of courage. But my voice came out as barely a whisper. "I... I didn't mean to see anything. I was just walking by. Please, I won't tell anyone. I swear." His eyes narrowed. He studied me for a moment, those cold blue eyes raking over my face like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "The valedictorian," he said slowly. "Dahlia Lancaster. I've seen you in the library. Always reading and alone. You think you're better than everyone else, don't you?" "No, I don't think that," I stammered. "I just... I'm just trying to-" "I know exactly what you were doing," he continued, ignoring me. "But if you speak, I know you have a mother and I'll go after her." My heart skipped a beat. My mom? No. Not my mother. "Please," I whispered. "I won't say anything. I swear. I'll forget everything I saw." His smile was sharp and predatory. "You think I'm going to trust you? A girl who has nothing to lose? A girl who might use this against me when she runs out of options?" I shook my head frantically. "I wouldn't do that. I'm not that kind of person." "You're exactly that kind of person," he said softly. "Everyone is. When you're desperate enough, you'll do anything. I've seen it before." I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them back furiously. I would not cry in front of him. I would not give him that satisfaction. "Please," I said again, my voice breaking. "I just want to go home. I won't tell anyone. I promise." He studied me for a long moment. I could feel his eyes on me, weighing me, judging me. I felt so small. So invisible. So completely powerless. "I could tell everyone you were the one with Dean Prescott," he said finally. "Scholarship girl desperate to keep her place. Word travels fast at Ashford, mouse. You'd be ruined." The threat hit me like a physical blow. "Please," I begged. "Please don't. I have nothing. My mother is sick. If I lose this scholarship, everything is over. Please. I swear I won't say anything." "Swear to me." "I swear it. On my mother's life. I won't tell anyone what I saw." He stared at me for a long moment. And then, slowly, his grip on my wrists loosened. "Get out of my sight," he said flatly. I didn't need to be told twice. I slid out from under his arm and started walking away, my legs shaking so badly I could barely stand. But then his voice stopped me. "One more thing, mouse." I froze. "If I ever find out you said anything to anyone, I won't just ruin you. I'll ruin your mother too. Understand?"

Dahlia's POV I was still shaking when I finally made it home. The small apartment I shared with my mother was cluttered, but it was warm and had a warm touch. After the marble of Bellmont Academy and the terrifying encounter with Vincent Carrington I desperately needed warmth. I needed to feel safe. I needed to forget the way Vincent Carrington's body had pressed against mine, the way his cold blue eyes had looked at me like I was nothing. I pushed open the door and leaned against it for a moment trying to steady my breathing. My hands were still trembling. My heart was still racing. I could still feel Vincent Carrington's grip on my wrists hear his low voice threatening to ruin me. "Sweetheart you are home," my mother said, her voice bright and cheerful. I forced a smile onto my face pushing down the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I could not let her see how scared I was. She had enough to worry about. "Hi, Mama " I called out my voice shakier than I wanted it to be. I walked into the kitchen and froze. My mother was standing by the counter, her eyes sparkling with a happiness I had not seen in months. She was practically glowing with a smile on her face. On her left hand there was a ring. It was impossible to miss. A massive diamond solitaire that glittered on her finger like it was trying to outshine the sun. My stomach dropped. "Mama what is that?" I asked, my voice full of worry. Her smile was radiant almost girlish. "Oh Dahlia I was going to tell you at dinner. I did not want to spring this on you. I just could not wait any longer." "Tell me what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Richard proposed," she said, her eyes shining with happiness. For a moment I forgot how to breathe. "Richard, as in Mr. Carrington as in Vincent Carrington's father?" I asked, my voice shaking. "The same," my mother said, practically glowing. "We have been seeing each other for months, darling. I did not want to say anything until I was sure.. Now..." She held out her hand watching the diamond catch the light. "We are getting married. We are going to move into the Carrington estate. You will finally have everything you deserve." The words hit me like a blow. This could not be happening. This could NOT be happening. I thought about Vincent Carrington. His blue eyes, his arrogant smirk, his body pressed against mine in the school hallway. I thought about the way he had threatened me the way he had looked at me like I was something to be destroyed. "No Mama you can not marry him. You can not " I said, my voice shaking. "His son, Vincent Carrington he is terrible. He is cruel. He uses women like they are nothing. I saw him today, Mama. I saw him with Dean Prescott. They were..." I could not even finish the sentence. My mothers face went pale. "You do not know what you are talking about " she said, her voice firm. "Yes I do, Mama. I saw them. He was..." I could not even finish the sentence. "Please Mama please do not do this. We do not need them. We have each other. We will figure something out. I will work hours. I will drop out of school if I have to. Just please do not marry him." My mother stared at me for a moment.. Then something shifted in her expression. The softness disappeared. The warmth evaporated. In its place was something desperate that I had never seen before. "Don't you think I know that Dahlia?" she said, her voice rising. "Don't you think I know what kind of man Richard Carrington is? You think I do not know about his affairs? You think I do not know about his son? I have lived in this city my whole life, Dahlia. I know who they are." "Why would you..." I started to ask. "Because I have no choice " she said, her voice screaming. "I have worked myself to the bone for eighteen years. Eighteen years, Dahlia. I have scrubbed floors. Washed dishes and worked jobs that broke my body just to keep food on the table.. For what? So we could live in this cramped apartment? So you could wear second-hand clothes to school and get bullied by kids?" I felt the tears spill down my cheeks. "Mama..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I am tired, Dahlia " she said, her voice cracking. "I am so tired. I have sacrificed everything for you. Everything. I have given up my dreams, my youth, my health.. Now I have a chance. A real chance. Richard Carrington loves me. He wants to take care of us. He wants to give us a life we never even dreamed of." "He does not love you Mama " I said, my voice shaking. "He just wants..." "He wants to marry me " she said, her voice firm. "That is more than any man has ever wanted from me. Your father left me with nothing. I have been alone for long, Dahlia. So long.. Now someone wants to take care of me. Someone wants to take care of you." "Please Mama..." I started to say. "No " she said, her voice final. "You are going to listen to me. This is happening. We are moving into the Carrington estate. You will finish school. You will go to college. You will have everything you deserve. Do you understand me?" I shook my head sobbing now. "I can not live with him Mama. I can not live with Vincent Carrington. I can't...I really can't stand him. He's a jerk." I sniffled. My mothers expression flickered. For a moment I saw a crack in her resolve. Then she hardened again. "Then you will stay out of his way " she said quietly. "You will be polite. You will be invisible. You will not give him any reason to notice you.. You will survive, Dahlia. You will survive because that is what we do. We survive." The fight drained out of me. I felt my knees buckle. I sank to the floor my body wracked with sobs. I could not breathe. I could not think. Everything was falling apart. I could not stop it. My mother knelt down beside me. Her arms wrapped around me pulling me close. I felt her tears on my cheek. I realized she was crying too. "I am sorry Dahlia " she whispered. "I am so sorry, baby. I know this is hard. I know you are scared.. This is our chance. Our only chance. Please Dahlia, please just trust me." I could not speak. I just cried into her shoulder letting her hold me. I had never felt so broken in my life. The next morning had never came so fast ever since I was born. I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Vincent Carringtons cold blue eyes staring at me. I heard his voice threatening to ruin me. I felt his body pressing me against the lockers his grip on my wrists his breath on my ear. I got up anyway. I put on my clothes. Which were not much just a clean blouse and jeans that did not have any visible holes. I brushed my hair and pulled it into a tight ponytail. I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror at my green eyes and pale face and I felt nothing. I was numb. My mother was nervous during the drive to the Carrington estate. She kept smoothing her dress checking her makeup fidgeting with the engagement ring on her finger. I sat in the passenger seat of our beat-up car and stared out the window watching the city turn into suburbs and the suburbs turn into rich men's area. The Carrington estate was huge. It was a modern mansion on a hilltop surrounded by manicured lawns and very high iron gates. The driveway was so long I could not see the house from the entrance. We drove fountains and gardens and staff members who hurried out of the way as our car approached. My mother was practically vibrating with excitement. I felt like I was going to be sick. When we finally got to the doors Richard Carrington was already waiting for us. He was a man and he looked very nice with silver hair and a warm smile. He did not look like his son all. "Dahlia!" He came forward with his arms open. "It is so wonderful to meet you properly. Evelyn has told me a lot about you." I made myself smile. "It is nice to meet you Richard Carrington." "Please call me Richard, " he said. "Or dad," he grinned like a kid. I swallowed and lowered my head. My mom and him cleared their throats as there was awkward silence for some seconds. He took us inside the house. The house was more amazing on the inside. There were marble floors and crystal chandeliers. There was a lot of art on the walls that probably cost a whole lot of money. Richard showed us around the areas of the house talking happily about the changes he made and the rooms for guests and the rooms for the people who work there. My mother looked like she was in a dream. I kept my head down and did not say anything. Then just as we got to the big staircase I heard a door open somewhere above us. There were footsteps on the stairs. They were slow and heavy. My blood went cold. I knew those footsteps. I knew who was making them. I looked up. There he was. Vincent Carrington. He was standing at the top of the stairs wearing a t-shirt and jeans and his dark hair was still wet from the shower. His cold blue eyes looked at the scene, below him. His father, my mother and then me, Dahlia. His face did not show any feelings. "Ah, Vincent!" Richard said with a smile. "Perfect timing.. Meet your new family." Vincent came down the stairs slowly, looking at me. I felt like an animal being cornered by a big animal. I could not breathe. I could not move. He got to the bottom of the stairs and stopped in front of us. His father pointed to my mother. "This is Evelyn, " Robert said warmly. "My fiancée.. This is her daughter, Dahlia." Vincent looked at my mother. He gave her a nod.. Then he looked at me again. "What is she doing here?" he asked, his voice flat and full of disgust.

Dahlia's POV The silence after Vincent's words was really loud. I could hear my heartbeat as it was so loud. It was like my heart was beating in my ears. "What is she doing here?" He said again, his voice sounding cold and disgusted like I was some bug under his shoe. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment. It felt like I should disappear. I wanted to hide. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me up. I wanted to run out of this house and never come back, but I could not move. My feet felt stuck to the marble floor and my throat felt like it was too tight to talk. Richard's face looked angry. "Vincent, that is no way to talk to your sister!" he tried to say calmly. You could see that he was really trying to hold himself back. "She is not my sister." He kept looking at me with hateful eyes. "She is nothing! She is a nobody. She and her mother does not belong in this house!" Richard opened his mouth to say something but Vincent cut him off. "I said no!" he said in a voice. "I do not want her here. I do not want either of them here. This is our house. They do not belong here." My mothers hand found mine. Her fingers were cold and shaking. I could feel her trembling beside me. I knew she was scared like me. Richard's voice was loud and sharp. "Vincent, that is enough!" he thundered. "I will not have you talk to my fiancée and her daughter like that in my house. You will say sorry now." Vincent's jaw looked tight. I could see him thinking about what to do. He wanted to argue. Something in his fathers voice made him stop. "I do not have anything to say sorry for ". His voice was quieter now. He did not sound so sure. Richard said, "You will say sorry.. You will not join us at the table until you can behave like someone tonnage a brain!" Vincent looked at his father at me then at my mother. I could see the anger in his eyes. I also saw something else. Something that looked like fear. He was afraid of his father. "I am sorry" he said in a low voice. He did not look at us when he said it. He stared at the floor like it had done something to him. "That is better." His voice was a little softer now. "Now, I want to talk to you. In my study. Now." Vincent did not argue. He just walked away. His footsteps were heavy on the marble floor. Richard followed him. Before he left he turned back to us and smiled. "I am so sorry about that," he said. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I will not be long." Then he was gone, walking down the hallway after his son. I stood there with my mother in the entrance hall. We were surrounded by marble and crystal and beautiful artworks on the wall. I felt really small. "Oh baby it is going to be okay. I promise you. It is going to be okay." My mother whispered I shook my head against her shoulder, my hands trembling. "No, Mama. It is not. He hates me. He hates us. He is never going to like us." "Shh, baby. It does not matter if he likes us. What matters is that we have each other. We are going to be fine. We are going to get through this. We always do." My mother said I felt tears on my cheeks. I tried to hold them back but I could not. Everything was just sudden and too much. The scholarship, the money problems, my mothers surgery, Vincent's words and now this. It was all too much. A soft sob escaped my lips. I whispered, "I love you Mama." My mother said, "I love you too baby. More than anything in this world. I am going to make sure you have everything you need. I promise." We stood there for a time holding each other in the middle of that big cold house. I could hear Richard's voice coming from down the hallway. I could not make out the words. I could hear the serious tone. Vincent's voice answered sometimes but it was never loud enough to challenge his father. My mother held me like she was never going to let me go. After a while, Richard came back and he came back alone. "I apologize again for my son's behavior. This change is hard on some kids. Vincent is going through a time right now.. I want you both to know that you are welcome here. This is your home now. Please make yourselves comfortable." He said My mother nodded, her hand still holding mine. "Thank you Richard." He smiled, but it was a small one. He looked guilty. "Vincent will not be eating with us tonight," he said. "He is going to take some time to think about his behavior. I think it is better if he stays in his room for now." My mother nodded again. I could see the relief in her eyes even though she tried to hide it. I felt the relief too. Richard led us into the dining room. The table was huge with lots of food and fancy glasses. I had never eaten at a table like this before and I did not know what to do with my hands. "Please make yourselves at home." Richard said We started to eat. The food was delicious. I could barely swallow. My stomach was like it was tied in knots. Every bite felt like I was forcing it down. My mother and Richard started talking about the wedding and the house. Richard kept holding my mothers hand. She kept smiling at him like he was the only person in the world. I sat there in silence pushing my food around my plate. "Dahlia are you okay? You have barely touched your food." Richard asked I said "I am fine. I am just a little tired. It has been a day." "Of course of course. You must be exhausted. Why don't you go up? There is a bathroom down the hall. David will show you the way." A servant came around, his face warm but expressionless. "If you will follow me, miss." I stood up, happy to get away from the table. My mother squeezed my hand as I passed her eyes telling me everything will be okay. "Don't worry, sweetheart," she whispered. "Everything is going to be okay." I followed the servant out of the dining room. The servant led me through the house. I tried to remember where I was going but everything looked the same. Artworks filled the walls of the hallway. I was never going to find my way around this place. "Here you are, miss. Ring this bell if you need anything." The servant said, pointing at a bell just outside the wall beside the door. "Thank you." I said quietly. He nodded and walked away leaving me alone in the empty hallway. I pushed open the door and went into the bathroom. It was fancy with marble and gold. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, closing my eyes. I took a breath. I was okay. I was going to be okay. My mother was right. We had each other. We were going to get through this. We had been through times before. I just had to get through the few months. I had to keep my head down. I had to stay away from Vincent Carrington. I had to survive. I used the toilet and came out, washing my hands. The water was warm and I let it run over my fingers for a long time. I splashed some on my face trying to wake myself up. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I dried my hands and unlocked the door. I took a breath and stepped out into the hallway. Then I froze. Because Vincent Carrington was standing in front of me. I did not even have time to react. His hand closed around my neck pushing me back into the bathroom. My back slammed against the wall knocking the breath out of my lungs. His body was pressed against mine, his face inches from my face. "What do you think you are doing here," he said in an angry voice. "What is your plan, scholarship mouse?" he asked. "You think you can just walk into my house and act like you belong here like you are part of my family?" "I don't..." I gasped, trying to push him off. "I don't have a plan. I didn't want to come here. My mother-" "Your mother," he spat. "Your pathetic, desperate mother who will do anything for money. She's just like all the others. She's just using my father for his money. And you-" He squeezed my neck harder. "You're even worse. You think you can use me? You think I'll just roll over and accept you?" "I don't want anything from you," I choked out. "I swear. I just... our parents like each other and I have nothing to do with it!" He stared at me for a long moment. His blue eyes were cold and hard, but there was something else flickering behind them. Something I couldn't identify. "I would make your life a living hell," he said softly. "I would make sure you regret ever setting foot in this house. I would make you wish you had never been born." "Please," I whispered. "Please, Vincent. I won't bother you. I'll stay out of your way. I promise. Just please let me go." He didn't move. His hand was still on my neck, but his grip had loosened slightly. He was staring at me. Staring at my face. Then his eyes shifted to my lips. And then he leaned closer. I could smell him and that expensive cologne. I smelled something in him that made my heart race for reasons I didn't want to admit. He leaned closer, his lips almost touching mine. "Vincent," I breathed. "Please." But he didn't let go. He stayed there, his lips so close to mine I could feel his breath on my skin. His eyes were searching my face, looking for something. Then, it shifted into something different and mischievous. And then, slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I froze. My brain stopped working. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. All I could feel was his mouth on mine, warm and soft and completely unexpected. It only lasted a second. Maybe less. But it felt like an eternity. And then there was a knock at the door. I tried to pull away, but he gripped my neck tight and I gasped into his mouth. The door swung open. My mother stood in the doorway. Her eyes went wide. Her face went pale. She looked at me, then at Vincent, then back at me. "Dahlia?" she said, her voice trembling. "What... what is going on here?"