Blurb：
After SATs, childhood friend Lucas Bennet abandoned me for scholarship girl Stella Jones. But Chase Sterling, heir to the Sterling fortune, followed me to Berkeley with an intense pursuit. When I accepted his confession, mysterious comments revealed the truth: I was just the villainess in their story, and Chase was the devoted second male lead tasked with distracting me.
They thought I was clueless—the pitiful villainess clinging to Lucas Bennet while Stella Jones played the heroine. But I saw through Chase Sterling’s scheme. Using the wealth he showered on me, I boarded a flight abroad before he could dump me. Now, Lucas Bennet and Chase Sterling are left chasing shadows, while I rewrite my own story far from their drama.
Content：
After the SATs, my childhood friend, Lucas Bennet, dumped me and went to the same college as the scholarship girl.
But his buddy, the Sterling’s heir apparent, applied to Berkeley with me and launched this full-on, dramatic pursuit.
The moment I said yes to his confession, I saw the comments.
[Classic devoted second male lead, sacrificing himself to distract the villainess so the main couple can be happy.]
[Don’t be fooled by how he spoils the villainess now. Once she’s totally hooked and stops bothering the male lead, he’ll dump her hard!]
[Poor villainess, still clueless.]
[Serves her right. Who does she think she is? Clinging to Lucas, making our precious heroine insecure.]
Were they talking about me? The villainess?
Was I… pitiful?
I glanced at Chase Sterling, leaning against his Lambo filled with roses.
He was ridiculously handsome, loaded, very considerate to me.
Seriously, I hit the jackpot!
Later, the scholarship girl tearfully threatened him to break up with me to prove he hadn’t fallen for me.
Chase was extremely irritated and dialed my number.
No one picked up.
Because.
I’d already ditched him first.
With all the money he’d given me over the years, I boarded a flight to study abroad.
The comments popped up just as I was about to say yes to Chase Sterling’s confession.
This Sterling’s heir apparent.
Post-SATs, he’d hauled himself all the way to California.
Just to chase after this bankrupt heiress—me.
He pulled up in an Aston Martin filled with roses.
The hand resting on the window wore a Richard Mille.
Everything about him screamed obscene wealth.
He gave me that signature casual grin,
“Sophie, liked you for ages. Give me a shot?”
Squeals erupted around us.
Comments scrolled furiously.
[Villainess, say yes! Only when you’re with the devoted second male lead will you stop messing with our main couple’s sweet romance~]
[Scheming woman. So you’re the male lead’s childhood friend? Shouldn’t you know the childhood friend never wins over a new friend? Stop clinging! Disgusting.]
[Chase, you better play her hard. Dump her when she’s most invested, teach her a lesson.]
So that was it?
Well, color me delighted.
I took the bouquet.
“Okay.”
Seriously?
This was Chase Sterling. East Coast royalty. Someone I’d never normally cross paths with.
Now he was lowering himself, pulling out all the stops, just to trick me?
Since when did I get this lucky?
I’d made it!
The male lead the comments mentioned was my childhood friend, Lucas Bennet.
Our moms were BFFs.
When I was ten, my family went bankrupt, and I got sent to live with the Bennets.
They treated me well enough—roof over my head, no worries about clothes or food.
But the suffocating feeling of being a charity case, the whispers, the sideways glances…
It chipped away at my self-respect constantly.
Then, around puberty, I realized something.
The closer I got to Lucas, the less the nasty gossip flew.
To make my life easier, I started to approach him.
Bringing him breakfast.
Delivering Gatorade courtside.
Doing his homework.
It was that age, you know.
Lucas started looking at me with a rather ambiguous gaze.
Rumors flew.
They began to talk about when we would confirm our relationship.
The nasty voices vanished.
People who used to look down on me suddenly got friendly.
Until senior year.
Stella Jones transferred in.
I became her foil.
Highlighting her supposed saintliness everywhere.
She was poor but noble, above material things.
Me?
I got into a loud fight with a owner over a rigged scale cheating me out of five bucks.
She got high scores effortlessly.
I killed myself studying, my practice scores barely budged.
People called me “all try, no fly.”
Soon.
Lucas was captivated by her “uniqueness.”
He drew a line between him and me.
Warned me not to walk to school with him anymore.
Honestly. Relief washed over me.
Getting close to him was strategic.
If he’d actually fallen for me?
That would’ve made me feel guilty.
Post-SATs, they got together fast.
I moved out of the Bennets’ place ASAP, got my own place.
When scores were announced, they were curled up on the couch picking colleges.
I happened to come downstairs.
Stella looked shocked.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting Mrs. Bennet,” I said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I’d decided on research.
Mrs. Bennet’s family ran a major biotech firm, deep connections, knew all the top professors and academics.
Her advice was gold.
As I left, Stella chased me down.
She looked pissed.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to!
“Just trying to stay on his radar, huh?”
I didn’t get why she saw me as a threat.
But we were outside; making a scene would embarrass Mrs. Bennet.
So I let it slide.
A couple days later, a classmate “casually” asked about my college picks.
I knew who sent her.
Didn’t even look up.
“Berkeley.”
Reasons:
First, my score was 1520 – borderline for Ivies. Berkeley’s Honors Program was a solid safety.
Second, Lucas and Stella were staying East Coast.
I wanted to study, not get sucked into their drama.
Good riddance.
But Stella wasn’t convinced.
She sicced Chase on me to “distract” me, so I wouldn’t “bother” Lucas anymore.
Chase happily changed his college application.
With his family’s money and connections?
He could flunk out and still ace life.
Chase had things I needed.
After leaving the Bennets, I was on my own.
Tuition covered by scholarships, living expenses by grants.
Still tight.
Yet, this trust fund kid?
The crumbs falling from his table were a feast for me.
So began our mutual con game.
Once, during a “date,” his phone was unlocked.
His chat with Stella was open.
Detailed reports on my every move.
Panic shot through me.
Like a thief, I quietly locked his phone.
Terrified he’d realize I knew his game.
I was in STEM.
Beyond GPA, I needed achievements in scientific research.
Get into a lab early, butter up a professor.
Aim for publications before graduating.
Crucial for grad school apps.
So, sophomore fall, I picked a field, chose a tutor, joined his lab.
But the path wasn’t smooth.
Lately, something was wrong.
Maybe the cells in the petri dishes were sad.
They kept dying, dying, dying.
Dead.
My whole experiment stalled.
I was tearing my hair out when a helpful senior slid me a granola bar.
Told me science’s end is mysticism.
Failed experiments?
Try a ritual dance in front of the spectrometer.
Appease the machine spirit. Might work.
Once, she said, a grad student cracked.
Started crawling and barking like a dog… and bam!
Results!
So, these became lab traditions.
She patted my shoulder. “Sophie, just try it?”
“Hey, dark academia is still academia.”
…
I refused.
As the top student in the major and unofficial ‘lab beauty,’ I had an image.
Three more days.
Still zero progress.
Stress maxed out. My head throbbed.
What followed were mood swings, endocrine disorders, and several pimples on the face.
I decided.
I deserved a treat—
I put on my best “no-makeup” makeup and summoned Chase for drinks.
He has a very light tolerance for alcohol. One weak cocktail, and he’s buzzed.
We sat close. Ambience screamed “intimacy.” Shadows made his jawline look carved.
I licked my lips.
A sudden hunger pang.
I murmured, “Stay over tonight?”
Chase froze.
He’d never planned on that.
Never thought me initiating.
But…
Who says the girl has to be the reserved ones?
I kissed the corner of his mouth.
Smiled wider. “Problem? Aren’t we… together?”
He was… inexperienced. Strict family education.
A little teasing…
And his breath hitched, pulse racing, ears burning crimson.
“…Okay.”
First-timers? Insatiable.
We emptied the whole box.
I slept till noon.
Lab stress? Gone. Childhood trauma? Disappeared.
A new world opened.
Men fade fast; need harvest early.
Lab pressure rising?
Peel his clothes, enjoy the meal.
Chase had a hot body.
Six-pack. V-taper. Stamina for days.
Honestly? Thank Stella.
When she was flirting with Lucas, she’d bring drinks to the court, praise his physique,
while sneaking looks at Chase.
Chase was competitive. Spent a whole summer bulking up.
I was the ultimate beneficiary.
I traced his abs, nipped at his pecs.
Thought:
Thanks for the gift, “heroine.”
The Sterlings were old-school.
So.
Even though I was often the initiator…
Chase genuinely believed the girl “gave more.”
He felt guilty.
Started showering me with expensive gifts.
Birkin, Rolex, Van Cleef earrings…
I never played coy. Took it all.
Then sold them and bought fakes.
Being Chase’s girlfriend meant even fakes passed as real.
The comments saw it all.
They wanted to expose me, but Chase couldn’t see them.
Frustrated, they raged.
[So shameless.]
[Look at this gold digger’s ugly mug.]
I rolled my eyes.
First.
Chase gave willingly. Pocket change to him. Haters were jealous.
Second.
He started this con. Where were their morals then?
My life rule: Want something?
Admit it openly. Go all out.
Fake it till you make it.
Example: Want Chase’s money?
Provide top-tier emotional labor.
His word was law. No questions.
His birthday? I gave him a beaded bracelet.
He wrinkled his nose. “Too cheap for me.”
I looked down, playing vulnerable.
“It’s for our love. Super effective. Hiked for hours to get it blessed.”
He really fell for this.
Eyes lit, smirking. “That into me? Fine.”
He swapped his Patek for the bracelet.
Bragged about it constantly.
Another example: Wanted top grades?
Studied obsessively. Library was my second home.
Discipline and hard work, faked then made real.
I aced every semester.
Wanted publications?
Worked in the lab. Befriended grad students.
Snagged co-authorships.
Comments shifted. Less hate, some fans.
[Not gonna lie, this girl studies like her life depends on it?]
[Smart, beautiful, chill. Wanna be her fans!]
Time flew. Junior year arrived.
Future plans kicked in. Grad school apps. Job hunts.
I’d planned on abroad for ages.
Had my IELTS scores, recommendations ready.
Selling Chase’s gifts. Covered my Master’s abroad, easily.
One morning after… sleeping.
Penthouse suite. Room service breakfast a button away.
Chase insisted on cooking.
Shirtless. Apron tied low.
Major house-husband vibes.
He made eggs, pasta, then woke me.
Over breakfast, he said casually, “Sophie, let’s do grad school together?”
I was half-asleep.
That jolted me awake.
He was supposed to dump me!
I was fantasizing about him coldly breaking it off, me doing a three-hour Oscar-worthy meltdown, him tossing me “hush money”!
Planning our future?!
No!
I shook my head, lied.
“Culture shock scares me. Honestly, thinking Stanford for my Master’s?
“We’re both East Coast kids anyway. My application’s ready.”
Chase thought. “Okay, I’ll talk to my parents.”
He’d take over the family biz eventually. School location didn’t matter.
For insurance…
I decided to play dirty.
I knew someone spied on my social media platforms for years.
Blocked everyone I knew, I posted,
[So excited to be heading to Cambridge with babe for grad school!]
It worked.
Late September: Chase got into Stanford GSB. I got Cambridge.
But I lied.
Paid a roommate $50 to photoshop a Stanford acceptance letter.
Sent it to Chase.
“Yay babe! Together again!”
Graduation season. Galore parties.
I skipped them, claiming I needed to “contact with my future PI.”
My student visa was ready. One flight away.
Comments exploded that day.
[It’s happening! Main couple splits, heroine runs to second lead! Once he’s hers, the male lead regrets everything! Love triangle!]
[Sure, second lead slept with the villainess, but he was just practicing! Now he’s a pro!]
[Bye bye, villainess~]
Lucas and Stella broke up?!
Piecing comments together:
When they began dating, Lucas splashed cash.
Stella, clinging to her “noble poor” act, played hard to get, expecting more.
Lucas took her at her word. Stopped spending.
She got mad. Said “money was love,” claimed Lucas didn’t care her.
Lucas got fed up. They split impulsively.
Stella invited Chase to meet alone at a bar.
Drunk. Eyes red.
“Chase… you promised. If I looked back, you’d be there. Still true?”
Chase dodged. Took her glass.
“Stop drinking. You’ve started talking nonsense.”
Stella pushed.
“You never treated me like this before! Did you fall for Sophie? Remember your promise?!”
He was tensed. “…N-no!”
Stella, drunker, yelled louder.
“Prove it! Call Sophie right now! Break up with her! Then I’ll believe you!”
Chase hesitated. Clearly didn’t want to.
He’d started liking me.
— Mostly physically.
But his pride? Massive.
Admitting he got played at his own game? Humiliating.
Fine. Dump her now, win back later. Sophie always obeyed.
Chase pulled out his phone. Dialed.
The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…
Irony: Stella flew to Berkeley to confront Chase on the same day my flight left.
I’d booked a cheap flight with a London layover.
Ten hours later, landed.
Pulled out my phone. Called Chase back.
“Phone battery died. What’s up?”
“Sophie, I…”
Chase hesitated.
Silence stretched.
My heart hammered.
Say it! Just say it!
Suddenly.
A drunk female voice. “Chase… who’re you talkin’ to?”
I activated Drama Mode,
“‘Chase’?! Who calls you ‘Chase’?!” “Who is that?! Where are you?!”
Chase surrendered. “Sophie… I messed up. We’re done.
“I’ll make it right. Financially.”
Finally.
I muffled my laugh, “Ughhh… sob…”
But the comments weren’t done.
[Think leaving makes you the unforgettable lover? That’s heroine privilege!]
[Villainess abroad? Nobody cares~]
Seriously? Everything’s a competition?
I tried everything to make the comments vanish. Failed.
Went to a neurologist. He suggested immediate hospitalization.
I bolted, “Feeling better, bye!”
I was used to them.
But still, angry.
Landed in Cambridge. Opened my apartment door.
Empty. Bare floors.
Next: Get a credit card. Buy furniture. Join FB groups for used stuff.
Crucial: Find edible food.
Within a week, settled.
Summer break. No classes.
Met my future PI first.
Talked research, toured the lab, picked a focus.
Time slipped by.
August arrived.
Chase’s birthday.
Usually spent with me.
This year? Friends.
More people, more lively.
Yet… felt wrong.
He sat at the head of the table. Silent.
Getting used to someone’s presence?
Dangerous.
He rested his head on his hand.
How could he be such an asshole? Playing with her feelings for four years.
Idiot.
How could he be so shitty?
Sophie’s sobs on that call… pure devastation.
She loved him.
He’d sent money. Four years, four million.
But Chase believed Sophie would choose him over the money in a heartbeat.
Meanwhile, across the ocean.
Me, gleefully checking my bank balance, “Achoo!”
…
Birthday boy radiated gloom.
Awkward.
His friends chattered away, trying to warm up the atmosphere.
One clueless idiot, “Hey Chase, cool bracelet?”
Chase’s wearing: LV shoes, Van Cleef & Arpels necklace, seven-figure car key.
But the cheap beaded bracelet? Jarring.
Another guy hushed him, “Shut up! Ex-girlfriend gave it…”
Chase felt stabbed. Twice.
He looked down.
Had almost forgotten Sophie gave it. Just habit now.
Her words echoed: For our love. Hiked for hours. Got it blessed. Super effective.
Annoyed, he ran a hand through his hair, kicked them out.
“Looks good on me, okay?”
Only my roommate and close friends knew I left.
They hated Chase’s guts.
Kept my secret.
Chase flooded my Ins with apologies.
I sent him $0.01.
He accepted, thought it was reconciliation.
Pushed to meet.
I crafted the perfect reply,
“Sorry, the breakup wrecked me. Seeing you hurts too much right now. Talk when fall semester starts?”
Not a full “no.” Left hope.
Chase agonized all summer.
Finally, Grad Student Orientation Day.
His business school orientation was morning.
Mine Bio Sci was afternoon.
He grabbed his materials, camped outside Bio Sci’s check-in.
Waited.
From a trickle… to a line… to sunset… staff gone.
No Sophie.
Confused. Deflated.
Turning to leave… a girl ran up.
“Chase Sterling?”
Sophie’s undergrad roommate.
“Yeah. Where is she?”
“So sorry! Sophie asked me to give you this. Orientation chaos, I totally forgot!”
She handed him an envelope.
Inside: A postcard with the Cambridge seal. Two lines’ words.
Words silent, yet deafening,
[Enjoy Boston alone, Chase.]
[I’m at Cambridge, bye!]
Orientation ceremony.
Speech ended. Applause roared. Confetti rained down.
Cambridge. My dream since forever.
Standing there felt unreal. Dreamlike.
My grad life slammed into gear: Lab. Data. Papers. Reports.
Occasionally, I wondered about the trio.
Probably deep in their love triangle tango.
Then I realized… the comments were gone.
Since I left.
Guess my part in this “story” was over.
Now? Free to explore.
Mid-semester, Chase appeared outside my lab.
My PI was famous.
Taking me on broke years of precedent. Easy to track.
He said, “Sophie, missed you.”
Before, I catered to him.
Now? He looked at me… carefully.
“Need to talk. Give me another chance?”
He’d dressed sharp.
Crisp shirt, chest muscles straining against the tailored fabric under the harness straps.
Looked less like talking, more like seducing.
Hmm.
Lab stress was building.
I slid my apartment key into his shirt pocket.
“Lab report due.”
“Tonight. Impress me.”
Chase went to my place.
Minimalist. Functional.
While waiting, he hit the mall. Decorated my apartment.
Roses. Candles. Record player.
I almost walked past my own door.
Started to check the number… a hand pulled me in.
Shadows danced. Two figures against the wall.
“Sophie… okay?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “En.”
His kiss was a downpour.
Next morning.
I stroked his hair like a pet. “Good boy.”
Chase flushed. “After… I didn’t… with anyone. Still… yours.”
“I know.”
Could feel it through his stamina.
“So… us?”
“Not together.”
His eyes widened. “Last night we…!”
“Yep.” I shrugged. “You enjoyed it too, no?”
“But you hinted! Said I had a shot!”
He grabbed his phone, showed our chat. “One cent! For ‘one-lasting’ love!”
“What?” I blinked.
Then remembered. “Oh, that…”
“I meant…”
“Your apology? Not worth one cent.”
??!!
Chase practically levitated.
Desperate, he grabbed the bracelet. “This! You said it was for our love! I never take it off!”
Silence.
Truth? The bracelet wasn’t for him specially.
Legend: Hike up to the top of the mountain sincerely, your wish comes true.
For love.
Or… for school offer.
When I was waiting for the admission result, I couldn’t help but worry.
One dawn, hiking poles in hand, I reached the summit.
I knelt. Prayed for a long time.
A monk offered a divination tube.
“Try?”
I picked it up… hesitated… put it down.
Smiled. “No need.”
Three undergrad years. I’d given my all.
The rest? Up to fate.
No more worrying.
Outside, a gift shop.
I grabbed a drink. Saw the bracelets. Bought one for Chase.
But I didn’t know, fate silently gave me a smile.
As I turned to leave…
A gust whipped through the temple door.
Clatter.
The tube fell.
One stick tumbled out.
— Supremely Auspicious.
Later, Chase and I talked honestly.
I told him I wasn’t mad.
I knew his game from day one.
I’d gained so much from him.
Cambridge is “tuition assassin” level expensive.
My family’s bankruptcy meant high school relied on the Bennets.
No Chase? Maybe no grad school.
Definitely I was not here.
Plus…
His sleeping skills? Top-tier.
I’ve really made a fortune.
Chase looked hurt.
I comforted him.
“Look, we can’t go back to that, but maybe we can still…”
He cut me off, near panic, “NO! I’m traditional! You can’t treat me like that!”
I froze.
I just meant friends.
His mind went… elsewhere.
Fine. Time for mischief.
“Well? Do it or not?”
He got flustered. “I… I…”
“Need time… to think…”
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