Chapter 1

My "best friend," Vivian Shelby, was planning to drug me. She wanted to film an explicit video of me to use as blackmail.

Fortunately, a classmate overheard her plotting with my boyfriend, Marcus Carter, and posted a warning on our university’s anonymous Instagram gossip page: [Urgent! Looking for Chloe Vance. Someone warn her!]

I saw the post. And I quietly poured the drug into the drinks I prepared for them.

My Instagram DM inbox was blowing up. Everyone was telling me to watch out for my boyfriend and my "bestie."

With trembling hands, I tapped on the chat with an account called CampusWatch. It was a repost of a warning thread:

[Spread the word. Looking for a girl named Chloe Vance, Literature major. Your boyfriend and roommate are plotting something sick.]

At first, I didn't want to believe it. But looking at the blurry spy-shot attached to the post, I recognized Marcus and Vivian instantly.

Marcus was wearing the jacket I bought him. Vivian had my limited-edition designer watch on her wrist. I couldn't deny it.

I stared in shock at Vivian, who was out on our apartment balcony, laughing as she made a phone call. I couldn't believe our four years of friendship and trust had just evaporated.

Vivian and I had been roommates and best friends for four years. We shared everything.

Because her family struggled financially, I constantly helped her out, buying her meals and clothes under the guise of "sharing."

And Marcus was my boyfriend of three years.

I wasn’t codependent, nor was I stupid.

It was just that they were incredible actors. Marcus always acted like a hardworking, humble guy in front of my parents. Vivian played the role of the sweet, grateful, and fiercely loyal best friend.

Whenever Vivian was around me, she always put on a proud but slightly insecure front.

She took on part-time jobs, claiming she wanted to stand on her own feet and couldn't rely on my charity forever.

Occasionally, she would gift me small things—a lipstick, a hair clip—proudly stating she bought them with her own hard-earned money.

Sometimes it was a coffee she went out of her way to buy; other times, it was a limited-edition collectible figurine she had saved up for months to get me.

She used to say, "Chloe, you’re so good to me. I have to be even better to you."

Marcus played his part perfectly, too. He kept a respectful distance from Vivian whenever I was around, making it seem like I was the only woman in his universe.

They performed a flawless duet. One played the devoted boyfriend; the other played the caring bestie.

He acted like a loyal partner. She acted like a sister who relied on me completely.

They were so good that, until today, I hadn't noticed a single crack in their masks.

Last month, my father privately expressed his concerns about Marcus’s background. He made it clear that if we were to continue our relationship, Marcus would have to sign a prenuptial agreement.

When Marcus found out, his face turned incredibly ugly.

That, no doubt, was the trigger. Vivian must have egged him on, planning this drugging scheme to get dirty material on me.

They had spent three years acting, waiting, and plotting, only to realize they might end up with nothing.

So Vivian went mad. She dragged him into her sick plan to destroy me in the most vicious way possible, hoping to blackmail my parents and steal everything they coveted.

But I wasn't going to let them win.

Marcus was trash at his core. He belonged in the gutter, and that was exactly where I was going to leave him.