Blurb：
Lucas died tragically after being framed by his childhood sweetheart Chloe and brutally murdered by her father Frank. Now reborn, Lucas vows revenge. Chloe, the so-called genius, skipped college entrance exams to party with a punk, got pregnant, and blamed Lucas. Frank, obsessed with Ivy League dreams, destroyed Lucas’ future. In this second chance, Lucas exposes Chloe’s lies and Frank’s hypocrisy. Will Chloe face consequences for her actions? Can Lucas clear his name and protect his NYU photography dreams? A gripping tale of betrayal, redemption, and justice.
Content：
My so-called childhood sweetheart skipped her college entrance exams to hit up a club with some punk—and then told her parents she’d been studying at my place the whole time.
She partied so hard she missed the tests, and by the end of it, she was pregnant—then she pinned the whole mess on me.
When her folks found out? They burst into my house and beat me to death.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was begging me to cover for her.
Watching her parents show up at my door, I smirked,
“You get what you give. Your daughter’s the one who’s hooked on that guy—how is that my fault? I’m not her daddy.”
“Lucas, I’m going to a bar with friends to blow off steam. If my parents ask, just tell them I’m studying at your place.”
Seeing that text pop up on my phone, my head spun.
Hadn’t Chloe’s dad, Frank, already beaten me to death?
Right then, my phone started buzzing again—Frank was calling.
I let it go to voicemail, and he immediately started spamming my inbox with messages.
“Lucas, have you lost your mind? Exams are tomorrow, and you’re keeping Chloe out late? Her phone’s off, too! If she misses those tests tomorrow, I’ll hold you responsible!”
“My daughter’s Ivy League material—she’s not some artsy slacker like you who’ll end up in community college. Put Chloe on the phone, now!”
Hearing Frank’s furious rants in those voicemails, I frowned.
Three months before exams, Chloe had hooked up with some local troublemaker—guy with a leather jacket and a rap sheet, the whole deal.
Every time she snuck out to see him, she told her parents she was studying at my place.
Frank always thought art students like me were losers.
He’d warned Chloe a hundred times to stay away from me, said I’d drag her down with my “pointless”photography.
Later, when Chloe got caught leaving a hotel with that punk, she threw me under the bus faster than I could blink—claimed she’d been at my place studying with me the whole time.
I still remembered Frank’s face when she said it, dark, like a storm.
“Chloe, you’re top-tier college material. Why are you wasting time with this slacker? Alone together? What if something happens?”
Chloe just laughed it off, like it was no big deal.
“Dad, Lucas and I are like siblings. Even if we shared a bed, nothing would happen.”
I’d blushed so hard my cheeks hurt, but I stayed quiet—too embarrassed to set the record straight, too scared to make her mad.
Little did I know that silence would cost me my life.
When I didn’t reply, Frank lost his patience. Another voicemail popped up, angrier than the last.
“Lucas, are you listening? Make Chloe call me right now! If she messes this up tomorrow, I’ll break your legs! I mean it”
I rolled my eyes and blocked his number.
Last time, Chloe’s reckless choices got her pregnant and made her miss the exams—and she blamed me for every bit of it.
Her dad Frank accused me of ruining his daughter’s life. Before the police could even start investigate, he broke into my home and killed me.
He said if it weren’t for me, Chloe would’ve gotten into an Ivy League school no problem
But I’d already been accepted into NYU’s photography program—my future was bright.
Until Frank ended it.
My parents, overseas, got torn apart by the scandal Frank stirred up. Their company collapsed under the stress, and they died heartbroken, thinking their son was a criminal.
Now I’ve got a second chance—and I’m not letting that happen again.I’m settling the score.
And I’ll see if Chloe really the genius Frank claimed she is, once she has to face the consequences of her own actions.
But this time, even without covering for her, her parents still showed up at my door.
Same as before—same anger, same accusations. Like I was still the one to blame.
When the doorbell rang, I played it smart—didn’t answer, didn’t even move from the couch.
But they had a key.
Or maybe Frank just didn’t care—next thing I heard was a hard kick, and the door flew open.
It was Frank and his wife, Melissa.
Frank’s face was red, like he was already halfway to a rage.
“Lucas, you little shit—where’s my daughter?”
“You ignored my calls, ignored my texts. Exams are tomorrow! If you’ve messed this up for Chloe, you’re gonna regret it!”
Melissa stepped her voice sharp with that fake sweet sarcasm,
“Lucas, I know you and Chloe are tight, but she’s not like you. She doesn’t have ‘special little talents’—she’s Ivy League bound. Keeping her out this late? You really wanna drag her down with your dead-end art stuff?”
I clenched my fists behind my back. Last time, I argued—tried to defend myself—and it got me killed. Not this time
I took a slow breath and forced a calm smile, and said,
“Exams are tomorrow. Shouldn’t Chloe be home studying? Why would she be here with me?”
I thought explaining would defuse it—make them see how stupid this was.
But when I looked at Frank’s face, I knew I was wrong.
He’d already made up his mind I was the one corrupting his perfect straight-A daughter.
Every time Chloe snuck out to see that punk, she used me as her alibi.
Her parents ate it up—thought I was her lapdog, desperate to hang onto her. .
So Frank didn’t just kill me last time because Chloe’s life fel apart—he was unleashing years of resentment—hating that his “genius” daughter even talked to a “slacker” like me.
When I stayed quiet, Melissa jumped back in.
“Lucas, Chloe said she was studying here this afternoon. I trusted you. But it’s almost 10 PM, she’s not home, and her phone’s dead. What’d you do to her?”
“My daughter doesn’t lie. If she said she’s here, she’s here. I know you two are close, but you can’t keep her locked up like some secret.”
I almost laughed—cold, bitter.
“Melissa, Chloe’s a grown woman. If she were here, she’d walk out and tell you herself. You think I tied her up or something?”
I leaned forward a little, keeping my voice steady,”And breaking into my home is illegal. You want me to call the cops right now and ask them about trespassings?”
Before I could finish, Franks hand hit my cheek—hard.
The slap made my head snap to the side, my ears ringing so bad I could barely hear.
Frank was head of school security—6’2″, 200 pounds of muscle, built like he still played football.
Three months ago, he’d caught two armed robbers near campus and the principal called him a hero.
Now that strength was turned on me.
He wasn’t done. He pulled out his phone, hit record, and held it up to my face, yelling for the camera.
“Whose spoiled brat is this? A failing student trying to drag my daughter down with him? Pure garbage! Someone’s gotta put him in his place!”
He posted the video to the school’s parent group chat—300+ people, all the moms and dads from Chloe’s class.
After his robbery heroics, Frank had clout there.
Everyone ate up whatever he said.
The chat blew up instantly—messages pouring in. Frank grinned, kept recording, narrating like he was a news reporter,, “This kid’s rotten to the core. My daughter tried to help him study, but he clung to her—distracted her from her work.”
“I thought it was just a silly crush. But now? Right before exams? He’s hiding her.”
“It’s almost exam time, and I can’t reach my daughter! I’m going crazy, and this little liar’s playing games. You tell me—is this right?”
Parents in the chat rallied behind him.
[Total toxic friend! Looks innocent but he”s nothing but trouble!]
[If my daughter hung out with someone like that, I’d ground her for a year.]
[Frank, find Chloe before it’s too late. Missing these exams changes everything for her.]
Frank’s eyes lit up—he loved the attention. He started a live stream in the group, and parents flooded in—50, 60, 70 people watching.
He got even more worked up, shoving the camera right in my face,
“Talk, you little worm. Where’s Chloe? Or I’ll do what your parents should’ve done a long ago.”
Melissa walked over to the entryway, picked up a baseball bat and handed it to him a baseball bat from by the door.
“Use this, Frank. He’ll talk when he’s scared.”
I glared coldly at them, cold as ice.
“Chloe’s not here. I never told her to skip studying, never encouraged any of this. Get out of my house before I sue you for trespassing and destruction of property.”
I thought that’d make him back off—mentioning a lawsuit.
But he just laughed, loud and mean, “This brat’s threatening to sue me? Hilarious!”
He swung the bat, smashing a camera lens off a shelf.
A parent who knew photography freaked out in the chat.
[Frank! That’s a limited-edition Leica M11-P lens! Worth over 0-00,000!]
Frank froze for a second, then scoffed.
“A million? Leica or not, how’s a kid like you afford that? Figures. I’m just cleaning up this trash.”
He swung again—hit my camera body, then my laptop, then the stack of prints I’d made for my NYU portfolio. Everything I’d worked for, gone in seconds.
My chest hurt, but I didn’t move.
I knew if I tried to stop him, he’d beat me worse than last time.
Frank hated rich people—hated anyone who had more than him.Especially wealthy young women.
Once, a new art teacher started at school—she carried a 0-05k Chanel bag.
Frank sneered to anyone who’d listen, said must be spoiled or kept.
Turned out she was a billionaire’s daughter—that bag was pocket change to her.
But the dads in the chat? They ate up his jealousy. They started typing,,
[Check his other rooms! She’s gotta be hiding somewhere!]
I stood up, finally, my voice tight,
“Frank, Chloe’s really not here. Call the police if you’re worried. Why wreck my place?”
“This is illegal. Stop right now, or I’m calling 911.”
The chat went quiet for a second—like they finally realized how crazy this was. .
But Frank was too far gone. He shook his head, gripping the bat tighter,
“You wanna call the cops? Do it! I’d love for them to arrest you—keep my girl as far away from you as possible.”
Just then, a message popped up in the stream.
[I’ve seen this kid around. A young woman picks him up in a black Mercedes sometimes—they kiss when she drops him off. Too young to be mom. Probably a sugar babe. Explains the expensive camera.]
The chat erupted again, messages piling up so fast I could barely scroll,
[He seemed so innocent!Turns out he’s just a kept kid—disgusting.]
[Kids these days have no work ethic. Always looking for shortcuts instead of earning things.]
[Who even is this kid? Where are his parents? They need to step up and discipline him.]
My parents were overseas on a business trip and not in the chat, couldn’t defend me even if they wanted to.
I checked on the accuser’s profile—turns out it was Liam’s mom.
Once, during an English test, he tried to cheat off my paper. I refused.
He got caught red-handed, and the teacher called his mom in.
She begged me to lie, to say I’d let him look—but.I told the teacher the truth.
Liam never forgave me.
But I just never thought his mom would hold a grudge this long, or attack me like this.
Frank saw the message and lit up, like he’d just found proof.
“See that? A kid can’t afford this stuff on his own. It’s sugar mommy money! Disgusting—no morals, no respect.”
“He’s got no one teaching him right from wrong? Fine—I’ll do it myself.”
He smashed a glass cabinet full of dad’s auction treasures—jade and porcelain, now shards.
I glanced at the chat, and my heart sank when I saw Mr. Smith—my homeroom teacher—was still in there, silent.
Last life, mom had given him a spare key to our place, worried I’d lock myself out. She even told him our address, trusting he’d look out for me.
When Chloe missed her exams and got pregnant, that key let Frank kill me before police could show up.
Only after dying did I learn, Mr. Smith was Chloe’s uncle.
Family always came first for him—truth didn’t stand a chance.
He knew the “woman in the luxury car” was my aunt, not some sugar mommy. But he stayed quiet, letting everyone slander me.
If Frank was the one who pulled the trigger, Mr. Smith was the accomplice.
This time, I wasn’t gonna let them get away with it.
I type fast, mentioned Mr. Smith in the chat.
“Mr. Smith, you know what’s really going on. Please tell Frank—it’s not what he thinks.”
A minute later, he replied, and my blood ran cold,
“Lucas, Chloe took time out of her study schedule to help you, even when Your grades were struggling. Don’t repay that kindness with cruelty. If you’re hiding her, tell her dad where she is. He’s worried sick—this isn’t a game.”
Parents jumped on board right away,
[Teacher’s right. No one wants drama before exams—just tell the truth.]
[That boy looks so decent but he’s got a black heart. Using Chloe like that.]
[The school should transfer him out. Who knows what he’ll do to other kids?]
[Boys these days are so lazy and entitled. Society’s going downhill.]
They chatted so much someone clipped the live stream footage—Frank yelling, me tied to the chair, the broken glass—and posted it online.
The caption read, [Slacker hides top student before exams. Desperate parents search endlessly.]
It went viral overnight.
Everyone condemned me.
Frank saw the attention, and his eyes lit up. He opened a live stream on a bigger platform—one with way more viewers than the school parent chat.
Download the NovelGo app, Search 【 114790 】reads the whole book.
