FAKE DATING THE BAD BOY FOR REVENGE 18+

SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.

Everyone says heartbreak feels like drowning.

They were wrong.

Mine felt like fire.

Fire in my lungs, my chest, the back of my throat.

Consuming, burning, hot.

Matt, my best friend boy I've loved since forever, the boy I made cardboard cut-outs of, replaying the moment he'd ask me to be his finally, stands there, laughing with the girl who's made my life hell for two years that I have attended this school.

He didn't just break my heart - he handed it to her on a platter of fucking gold.

And now, they're kissing in the hallway like no one else exists - like I don't exist to him.

I wasn't supposed to see it- I don't think anyone was supposed to. The hallway was quiet, too quiet, empty, but I turned the corner, and there he was.

Laughing with her, his hands around her waist as he places his lips on her cheek.

And my world-whatever little of it that was left-crashes, crumbles, under the weight of his betrayal.

He chose her.

The girl who sneers at my secondhand shoes.

The one who calls me a “charity case” loud enough for everyone to hear.

The one who reminds me every day that my father works for her boyfriend’s father… and that my mother is nothing more than a ghost in my records.

Except she isn’t dead.

She’s just… lost.

And now I am too.

Ravenscroft High wasn’t made for girls like me.

Not with my curves, my thrifted uniforms, my full scholarship status.

Not when the halls are littered with descendants of legacy billionaires and royalty-level egos.

This was a blessing in disguise, a gift from Mr Ravenscroft to my father for his outstanding service at work as his secretary, and the one boy that knew that from my lips, not from some tabloid publication, not from the whispers and sneers of the elite students in this ancient school, stands with the one girl that tormented me for it.

Kissing her, holding her, touching her.

I clutched my books tighter against my chest, backing away before they noticed me.

But I should’ve known better.

This is Ravenscroft.

Someone always notices.

I turn to my right, ready to run out of the hall before I scream, to find a small space to cry, vent, and weep at this betrayal. And that is when I saw him.

Lucien Knox Ravenscroft.

This school's god, king, prized possession, hockey and lacrosse champion, the son of Eldric Ravenscroft, and the very bane of my existence. The one person who would inherit the trillions of dollars from his aristocratic family was staring at me.

His blue eyes on me permeate something into the air, their icy nature suddenly rendering the room cold as chills run up my spine.

His tattoos peek from the collar of his shirt; the drawing of a skull on his neck was clear as day.

He's my bully, the son of my father's employer, and my benefactor, the one who started this entire bullying of Sloane agenda.

It started one day in the cafeteria. I unknowingly sat on a seemingly empty seat, ready to dive into the enemy father on my first day.

'For good luck,' He had said.

Little did I know, I had entered hell.

The hall had suddenly become silent as I sat on the white seat cushion-like enclave of the chair, feeling like something made for royalty.

All of a sudden, from the corner of my eye, I saw someone, a girl with dark hair and gothic vibes, whispering.

"Get up, now!" I should have listened.

Should have bolted out of the seat like it was acid, lava, and not the heavenly chair it was, and run.

Far from the cafeteria, this school, this city.

The door to the large hall suddenly opened, the band hitting the wall, jolting me from my almost-opened sandwich.

I looked up, and there he was, the golden boy.

Dressed in his uniform, navy blue pants, white shirt, and navy blue jacket, with tattoos his clothes did nothing to conceal, a piercing gaze, and a smirk on his lips, he walked in. His six-foot frame stood over everyone in the hall as his friends accompanied him.

Four tall guys.

Kai Blackthorne.

Theo Maddox

Lucian Stone.

Prescott Smith.

The four horsemen, as they are dubbed in this school, and Roxanne, the school's bimbo, on Lucien's arm.

The first place Ravenscroft looked at was the seat I occupied.

I remember his eyes, his stony expression, the rage in them, and the way I almost wet my pants in fear.

That day, I realised one thing: this school was hell, and I am no better than an animal for being a scholarship kid.

Gulping and fighting my fear, I made eye contact, clutching my books to my chest so tightly, I thought they'd crumble under my grip.

And worst, he smirked.

Like he could taste my heartbreak.

Like he’d been waiting for it.

“Rough day, scholarship girl?” he drawled, pushing off the wall with a lazy elegance that shouldn’t have looked that good.

I hated him.

Or at least, I was supposed to.

Lucien was the kind of boy who didn’t just rule the school; he owned it.

Literally.

His family founded the Ravenscroft group. His father sat on the board, and his last name was on the east wing of the building.

And I was the helper’s daughter.

I stiffened. “Go to hell, Ravenscroft.”

He chuckled, like I was a joke he couldn’t wait to unravel, his gaze not once turning from mine.

“Already there, darling. Want to join me?”

I moved to pass him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking the hallway with one hand braced above my head. His scent hit me. His sharp cologne smelled like leather, and something darker. Something so expensive, it'd buy everything I owned and much more....way more.

“You planning on crying in the girls’ bathroom?” he asked, now closer than ever. So close I could feel his knees against my thighs, the contrast of his strong knees to my soft thighs sent butterflies down my belly.

I refused to answer, choosing to bite my tongue instead, before I'd say something to cost my father his job.

His smirk widened.

“They don’t deserve your tears, Sloane, only I do.” His wicked gaze on mine as his golden blonde hair sits beautifully on his head.

He looks like he was sculpted by the Greek gods, an object fit to send women, young and old, into a frenzy. The scandal of his having relations with a teacher last year spread around the school like wildfire.

The news then was that a female teacher gave him a head job.

In no time, the teacher was mysteriously fired the following day, and Lucien?

He was apologized to and taken for counseling for 'Mental health evaluation for wrong done to him'

The principal was suddenly fired from school as well.

And suddenly, no one dared whisper the news anymore, fear of extinction too strong to avoid.

My name on his lips did something wicked to my spine.

“You don’t know anything about it,” I snapped.

He glanced toward the hallway where Matt and his new girlfriend still stood; oblivious, enamored, and disgusting.

“Oh, I know enough,” Lucien said softly. “Like how he was your best friend. Like how you loved him, but he never saw you, never gave you his time of day. Everyone can see it; it's almost sickening.”

My throat tightened. “What do you want?”

His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes.

“To offer you a deal.”

A sharp ring of the bell echoed from the cafeteria as people poured out for lunch.

At the sight of students rounding the corner, Lucien takes a couple of steps back, his hands in his pockets lazily as he says, stunning me;

“Date me.”