Star parked the Ferrari at the curb outside Crestfall University. Two weeks. She'd missed two weeks of school, and now she needed to catch up. Study. PACE herself. Try not to drown.
It was just past eleven, but she was in a surprisingly good mood. The sun hung in the sky, partially veiled by sprinkles of cloud. Autumn in Crestfall meant warm almost-every-day, and today was no exception. She was still in her baggy jeans and oversized T-shirt—comfort over couture.
She missed school. Missed selling sweets to hungry students between classes. Missed studying. Missed making assignments at 2 a.m. while questioning her life choices.
As she closed the door of her Ferrari, Star looked back at it and smiled.
"Thank you, stranger who bought me this car." She chuckled to herself. "My fellow students are gonna be wowed."
She walked away, fully expecting students to swarm the vehicle, asking questions and demanding answers. But as she stepped onto campus, something was off.
No one approached.
Instead, they gave her weird looks. Questionable looks. The kind of looks that made her want to check if she'd forgotten to put on pants. Some gossiped loud enough for her to hear. "Whore." "Opened her legs to hooligans." Others speculated about the car: Did she get it after being fucked? Was that her reward?
"I always wondered how she has an iPhone 17 Pro Max when she just sells sweets," one student said loudly, clearly not caring who heard. "Now I know. She sells herself."
Star stopped walking. Mild confusion clouded her brain. What is going on?
As if Tiffany had been reading her mind, a voice cut through the crowd.
"Hey, look, guys! The whore!"
Tiffany. Yelling. Loud enough to pull every pair of eyes in the vicinity.
Students laughed. Pointed. Whispered. Star stood frozen as the humiliation washed over her in waves.
"It's always the quiet one" another student commented.
"Whoreness doesn't come with silence" another spat
Then someone shoved a phone in her face.
"How did it feel having three dicks inside you?" the student asked, grinning like it was comedy night.
On the screen: a photo of Star naked. Having sex with men she recognized—the hooligans from the night she was kidnapped.
But she didn't remember having sex. Or being naked. How was this possible? And how did these photos end up on the school forum page?
Meanwhile, Tiffany was loving every second of this.
Finally. Finally, Star was getting what she deserved. Star wasn't popular. Wasn't rich. She had nothing—yet Adrian looked at her with those lovey-dovey eyes in a way he never, ever looked at Tiffany.
Just minutes ago, an anonymous account had posted Star's nudes and sex pictures on the official school forum page. All Tiffany had to do was show up and laugh in her face.
Adrian was going to be disgusted when he saw this. And if he wasn't? Well. Tiffany would make sure he was.
Star felt naked. Completely, utterly naked.
She'd never had a scandal in her life. Never been the center of gossip. She didn't know how to act in front of a crowd that now looked at her like she was something they'd scraped off their shoes.
How did Frieda post those pictures? And how had Star not seen them on her own phone? She checked the forum every day—especially since Lucian brought her phone back last night.
She walked toward the administrative building. In the corridors of the Residential Department, even the lecturers who had once admired her now looked away. Or through her. Or down at her like she was garbage.
Directors. Staff. People who had smiled at her two weeks ago. Now they all wore the same expression: disgust.
"Star. Just the person I wanted to see."
Mrs. Welam didn't wait for Star to sit. Didn't offer tea. Didn't even say hello. She just held up a printout of the forum page and let it speak for itself.
"What is this?"
Star opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She stammered. Tried again and failed.
"What's going on, Star? You skipped school for two weeks. We thought you were kidnapped or something. Lucian and Adrian came here looking for you." Mrs. Welma's voice was sharp. Disappointed. The worst kind of sharp.
"I was..." Star struggled to find words. Right now, it was her word against graphic, disgusting pictures. And to make it worse? They'd been posted on the official school page.
"Please, Mrs. Welma. You know me."
"I knew you." Mrs. Welma's sigh was heavy. "I knew you struggled—your mother, your abusive father. I helped you where I could." She paused. "What, you thought selling yourself would do what, exactly?"
Star didn't answer. What could she say? This was all new to her too.
"You know the consequences, right?" Mrs. Welma sighed again, deeper this time.
Star nodded. Tears poured from her eyes—uncontrollable, hot, humiliating.
"The page was hacked last night. Management got control back this morning, but the pictures had already spread." Mrs. Welma's voice cracked. "The university chancellors—everyone of power—are on that page. They saw those... photos. Star, I—" Her own eyes glistened.
"I understand, Mrs. Welma." Star's voice was steadier than she felt. "And I'll do anything to prove myself correct."
She already knew what was coming. Violation of the official page meant suspension or expulsion. And with the magnitude of this scandal? She was gone.
"What's your side of the story, Star?" Mrs. Welma asked quietly. "At least have some decency and tell me."
Star stood up. Exhaled and inhaled. Held herself together with sheer force of will.
"Two weeks ago, I was kidnapped by my father's mistress." She swallowed hard, blinking away tears that spilled down her cheeks anyway. "She sicced several men on me to rape me. And they did."
Mrs. Welma's face crumbled.
"And now I can't prove myself innocent because... it's true." Star's voice broke. "I don't know how to defend myself in this situation."
"Oh, Star. I can—" Mrs. Welma stopped. Defending Star meant losing her own job. Star was here on scholarship. She's a brilliant student. And just like that, her life was over.
Mrs. Welma pitied her. Deeply.
"Can I write you a recommendation letter?" she offered softly. "Maybe you can enroll in vocational training centers when the dust settles."
Star looked at the woman who had been kind to her. Who had helped her. Who was now handing her a life raft made of pity.
"Thanks. But no." Star's voice was hollow. "Like you said, you've helped me. And thank you for that, Mrs. Welma." She turned toward the door. "I will return, though."
She left before the tears could win again.
***
Meanwhile, Loise was humming a song as she cleaned Star's room. The tune was old—something her mother used to sing—and it bounced off the walls like a happy ghost.
"This child. Even at this age, she doesn't make her bed." Loise shook her head fondly and straightened the sheets, tucking corners with military precision. She finished, swept the floor, and dumped the trash into the bin.
Then she frowned.
A bottle of vitamins sat at the bottom of the bin. Full. Unopened.
"What do we have here?" She picked it up, reading the label. For a second, her heart seized—drugs? Star had been through so much lately. Loise wouldn't put anything past the universe at this point. But no. Just vitamins.
She exhaled. "They're not even expired."
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She dropped the bottle on Star's vanity table and went to answer it.
"Lucian." Loise's face broke into a warm smile. "What are you doing here?" She stepped aside, letting him in.
"Star went to campus," she added, closing the door behind him.
"Yeah, I know." Lucian took a seat, sprawling like he owned the place—which, honestly, he'd done enough sleepovers here as a kid that he practically did. "I'm actually here to see you."
Loise's smile faded slightly. Concern laced her voice. "Oh? Is everything alright?"
Lucian's mother, Melisa, had been Loise's colleague back when they both worked cleaning jobs. When Loise quit from Summit Height, the children—Star and Lucian—didn't stop hanging out. Sometimes Melisa would drop Lucian off, and he'd sleep over. Eat their food. Leave his socks everywhere. He is practically her son.
"Yeah. Everything's fine." Lucian paused, choosing his words. "Before Mom died, she said something that had me reeling for a while."
Loise sighed. A knowing sigh. The kind that comes before a difficult conversation. "Did she say something about your birth family?"
Lucian frowned and leaned forward. "Yes. I didn't want to know anything about my birth parents. But her saying that on her deathbed... it made me pay attention." He paused. "I mean, I don't know them. So anyone around me could be them."
Loise's face softened. "Your mother didn't know your birth family."
Lucian's hope visibly dampened. "But she—"
"A day after you were born, she found you in a baby basket." Loise cut him off gently. "You were about to be transferred to the orphanage. But Melisa... she admired you."
"You mean pitied me?"
"No." Loise's voice was firm. "You were premature. But strong. And among all the basket babies, you were the smallest." She smiled at the memory. "Melisa was alone. She lived alone. So she begged the hospital to let her adopt you. And they did. And here you are."
Lucian processed this. "So where are the adoption papers? My family information could be there"
"There were no adoption papers." Loise's face tightened.
Lucian's frown deepened.
"Okay, um..." Loise sighed. "She did a negotiation with a nurse. And you were just... given to her."
"So who's the nurse?" Lucian leaned forward. "Maybe she knows something."
Loise didn't answer immediately.
"But why would Mom say something like that on her deathbed if she didn't know my birth family?"
Loise met his eyes. "Because she wanted you to go out there and look for them. If not for the cancer—"
"She'd help me look for them herself." Lucian finished the sentence.
Yes. That was Melisa. Before she'd even told Lucian about her cancer, she'd started this narrative—this everyday mantra—that he should find his real family. Find where he came from. Find answers she couldn't give him.
"She had no clue who they are." Loise reached out and touched his hand. "But Lucian, if you don't want to find them... don't."
Lucian stood up. Decision made. "I will." He looked down at her. "Who was the nurse?"
"Nurse Anna. That was the name we used to call her." Loise thought for a moment. "It's been over two decades. She's probably retired by now."
"Thank you, Ms. Loise." Lucian nodded and left.
He got to his car, parked just outside the Tomas residence, and was about to open the door when he spotted a familiar face. Frieda. Talking to someone. Someone who looked suspicious.
Lucian grinned.
The suspicious man walked away after whatever exchange they'd had, disappearing around a corner like smoke.
"Making plans in broad daylight is really not a good step to killing me," Lucian called out, his voice dangerously calm. So calm it scared the crap out of Frieda.
She didn't say anything.
"Frieda?" Lucian tilted his head, amused. "Aren't you going to greet me? Or throw a knife at me? What's the matter?"
Frieda had never really seen Lucian in daylight before. He was... surprisingly hot. Really tall. The kind of attractive height and body that made you want to do inappropriate things with a twenty-two-year-old. She hated herself for noticing. Hated herself even more for admiring her brother's murderer.
"I will find ways to get back at you," she finally spoke. Her voice came out weak. Lower than she intended. Pathetic.
Lucian laughed. A full, rich laugh. Then he stopped abruptly and took a threatening step toward her.
"I have people tailing you. Watching you and your little minions." His voice dropped. "I know you're planning to kill Star in front of me, just like I did your brother." He paused, letting that sink in. "But let me tell you something, Frieda. Killing your brother was just the beginning of my revenge against you for the stunt you pulled."
His voice was dangerous. Deep. Dominating. The kind of voice that made knees weak and spines straighten.
And even under his gaze—even with the tension rising like a fever—Frieda felt something she desperately wished she didn't.
She could feel herself get wet.
She was absolutely, completely, utterly disappointed in herself right about now.
***
"I don't care that I'm a shareholder at that institution. Just delete the pictures!"
Adrian's voice bounced off his office walls for the nth time that morning. He'd checked the institution's portal for the timetable—a routine click, nothing more—only to be met with graphic, private pictures of Star.
His blood had turned to ice. Then to fire.
He only then recalled Star was talking to the police about being kidnapped for two weeks. But the police didn't believe her. Of course they didn't.
He placed another call, stress tightening his jaw. "I need you to sue the CPD. Right now."
He hung up before the person on the other side could respond. Grabbed his car keys and jacket and left his office like the building was on fire.
Down in the lobby, Adrian walked past the reception desk with purpose.
"Has the geo-location schedule arrived yet? I asked Lazarus to drop it by you?"
The receptionist nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Jamal is ready to check it out at four p.m."
"Good. Clear my schedule for now. I'm heading out."
He didn't wait for a response. He hoped into his Bentley and drove off like the devil was chasing him.
Maybe he was. The devil had blue eyes and a black hoodie and kept showing up wherever Star was. Why was he even thinking about him?
Meanwhile, Star got to her car. She ignored the humiliating students—their whispers, their stares, their phones held up like weapons—and closed the door.
Silence.
She looked into the rearview mirror and laughed. A sad, weak laugh. The kind where you're trying to imitate laughter but can't quite find the right tone. It came out broken. Fitting.
Someone knocked on her window. She rolled it down, squinting against the sunlight.
"Selena?"
Star's roommate stood there, holding a box. They were friends—sort of. Not close. Just two students who shared a room, a bathroom, and sometimes food. Acquaintances by proximity.
"You didn't clear out your bed. Mrs. Welma wants to bring in a new student."
Already? She'd been expelled just minutes ago.
Selena raised the box. There weren't many things inside. Star didn't own much.
"Open the boot, Ice," Star said.
"There is no boot," Ice AI replied, and a different compartment opened—a space just behind the driver's seat.
Star sighed. "I'm never going to get used to this, am I?"
She got out, placed the box inside, and closed the compartment.
"Just so you know," Selena said quietly, "I don't believe those pictures out there."
Star's throat tightened. Before she could answer—
Two Bentleys. Racing toward her. At the same time.
She recognized them immediately. Adrian's. And Lucian's. Both drove Bentleys. Both, coincidentally, decided to drive them today. Toward her.
Star's heart warmed. Time seemed to stop. Everything moved in slow motion as both men got out of their cars in perfect unison.
Adrian: clad in a tailored blue suit, white shirt unbuttoned two buttons at the chest, suit jacket open and expensive sleek shoes.
Lucian: clad in a black suit pant, black shirt also unbuttoned two buttons at the chest, no suit jacket and equally expensive sleek shoes.
For the first time, Star realized they walked exactly the same way.
Students who had been whispering moments ago now stood with mouths open. Shocked. Impressed. Their impressions shattered instantly when they saw that both attractive men were walking toward Star—concerned. Focused. Like she was the only person in the parking lot.
"Are you okay?" Adrian and Lucian said in unison.
They looked at each other. Adrian was shocked—he'd been so worried about Star he hadn't even noticed who was driving beside him. Lucian, on the other hand, had seen Adrian racing toward Star. He groaned internally. And to think they drove the same car? He hated this guy.
Adrian reached Star first and hugged her tightly.
But Star didn't hug back. Her arms stayed by her sides.
But Adrian didn't seem to notice—or care. He breathed in the scent of her hair, held her like she might disappear.
Lucian's fists clenched in rage.
That's my move, you idiot.
His teeth gnashed. He was seconds away from ripping Adrian off her when a roar—something that mimicked an angry lioness—tore through the moment.
"ADRIAN STARK!"
Tiffany. Rage incarnate. Stomping toward them at the sight of her boyfriend hugging the campus's new "public whore."
Star gently pushed Adrian to arm's length.
Adrian felt annoyance flood his system. He was just having a moment. Just one moment.
"I'm so sorry. I was a jerk last night. I—" Adrian started, then stopped. Something caught him. Something familiar. Nervousness.
Even in this storm—even with the world burning around her—Star looked strong. Her brown wavy hair moved in the soft hush of wind. And Adrian felt the world stop.
What is this? He'd never been in love before. He didn't know how much his heart yearned for Star's. But did she feel the same?
"Are you okay?" Lucian asked Star.
Her hazel eyes drifted from Adrian to Lucian. And softened. Immediately.
Adrian's jaw hardened at her reaction towards Lucian.
Then she hugged Lucian. Tightly. The way she hadn't hugged him.
"Are you crazy?" Tiffany scolded Adrian, who ran a hand through his locks as frustration took over. "She's in a whole scandal and you're all over her!"
He could feel it—an unspoken tension between him and Star. Was she mad at him? For what?
"She's a whore—"
"Watch your mouth, lady." Lucian's voice was ice. His hardened jaw and blue eyes glared into Tiffany. She shut her mouth immediately.
"Watch your mouth!" Adrian said at the exact same time, his bluish eyes just as hard.
Tiffany's face crumbled. "Babe... did you check the forum? Her nudes are there." She pulled out her phone, shoving it in Adrian's face. "She's being—" She stopped. Swallowed. Then spat it out: "She's being fucked by more than three people. Her whole is loose now."
If Adrian wasn't going to get over Star, she had to drill it into his brain.
"Let's get out of here," Star said to Lucian.
He nodded.
Star was tired. So tired of holding back her rage from exploding all over Tiffany's face.
"Can you drive?" Star asked, already walking to the passenger side of the Ferrari.
Lucian looked back at his Bentley. Then at Star. Then back at his Bentley.
"Let me just make a call." He stepped aside, dialed, spoke briefly. Within a minute, he was in the driver's seat and they zoomed off.
Adrian watched them go. His attention split. Lucian. Again. How did he do it? Being a mafia boss and a lover boy?
"Being around Star may affect your stocks!" Tiffany's voice cut through his thoughts. "The company shares will drop in seconds!"
Adrian turned to her. "What's wrong with you?"
Tiffany shifted back instinctively. Confusion attacked her brows. "I'm just—"
"Did you forget the condition for our relationship?"
Her mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out.
The deal was simple: They'd date for six months. He'd make Star jealous. She'd make her ex-boyfriend jealous. Except her ex didn't exist—she'd made that up. She just wanted the title of being Adrian Stark's girlfriend.
But she'd caught feelings instead.
Adrian's jacket pocket vibrated. He pulled out his phone, answered the call, and turned away from Tiffany.
She stood there for a moment, teary-eyed, then walked back toward campus without another word.
Only then did Selena move. She'd been standing there the whole time, watching the entire conversation like a spectator at a tennis match—head turning left, right, left, right.
She looked at Adrian. Then at the Ferrari's fading taillights. Then back at Adrian.
She said nothing. Just walked away, shaking her head.
***
Star and Lucian drove to a local house in downtown. Star hadn't said a word about her situation the whole ride. If anything, she was dangerously calm. The kind of calm that comes before a storm—or after everything has already burned down.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Lucian asked again after they got out of the car, grocery plastics dangling from their hands.
"Let's see if Safe will approve." Star swirled around, opened the gate, and they both went in.
Lucian hummed. But he could see it—something dark growing in Star. Over all the years he'd known her, played with her, stood by her side, Star had been thrown into hell and back more times than he could count. But she always came back strong. Held it together. And moved forward with a goal; finish her degree and buy her mother a new house.
Now all that had been stripped away in one day.
She'd gone through it. And this time, she was back from hell with a darkness that Lucian recognized. A flash of a dark memory he'd kept locked inside himself, trying to escape.
He knew that darkness. He lived with it every day.
"Safe, I'm home," Star called out as she opened the door.
A man—pale, old-looking, maybe in his fifties with a healed scar of a slash across his righ eye—came down the stairs in a gown. His face broke into a smile when he saw Star and Lucian.
Lucian packed the groceries into the fridge while Star helped Safe sit down on the couch. The house was small. Just a two stories with living room and kitchen connected. A small TV and basic necessities. But it was warm. Cozy and lived-in.
Star made a sign with her hands. Safe nodded and signed back.
"I'm so happy to see you too," Star said, bouncing down onto the couch beside him. She glanced at his gown. "It's noon. You need to change into clothes." She sprinted upstairs.
As soon as Star vanished, Lucian's demeanor shifted.
He stared at Safe for a second. Then he dropped the apples he was parking in the fridge and walked over. His aura darkened. Became threatening.
Safe didn't flinch. He signed with his fingers: "It's been two years. Still don't trust me with her?"
Lucian never understood sign language. And he didn't care to learn.
"I told you to stop using your finger signs on me." Lucian's voice dropped to a threat—low, quiet, deadly. "She cares for you. And right now, she needs a friend more than anything." He paused. "I have errands to run and I'm leaving her in your care."
"So you finally trust me?" Safe signed again, a small smile on his lips.
Lucian's fists clenched.
"My threat stays the same." He leaned in slightly. "Hurt her, and your voice won't be the only thing you'll miss."
He heard Star's footsteps on the stairs and immediately returned to the fridge, picking up the apples like nothing had happened.
Two years ago.
Lucian was teaching Star how to drive on the Crestfall Escarpment—a flat field miles away from a cliff. It was getting dark. Star was supposed to be practicing turns. Instead, she sped off down a path heading straight for the edge.
Lucian had screamed. Chased after her on foot like an idiot.
When he caught up, she wasn't at the cliff's edge. She was kneeling over a man—hands bound behind his back with tight wires, a fresh slash wound stretching from the side of his forehead across his right eye, blood covering his entire body. He looked weak. Dying. In desperate need of medical care.
Star insisted on helping him. Lucian didn't trust the man—didn't know where he came from or who he was—but he helped him for Star. Which he makes sure Safe never forgets.
They got him to a hospital. Months passed. He remained a John Doe. No ID. No name. No voice. But Star cared for him anyway. Begged Lucian to get the man a roof over his head until he recovered. Until he got his voice back. Until he could live again.
That was two years ago.
No one ever reported a missing person matching his description. Lucian ran background checks—deep ones, the kind that cost favors and left digital footprints—but nothing came up. It was as if the man had never existed.
So Star named him Safe.
And she'd been taking care of him ever since.