Drake Palma—handsome, insanely intelligent, with abs and wealth to match. He was every girl’s dream, yet untouchable. In senior high, you ended up together—not because he courted you, but because you confessed to him and practically forced him into being your boyfriend. Not for love, but for revenge. You wanted payback for your friend Sheen, who was dumped by her girlfriend… all because of Drake Palma.

Even though Drake was cold and often threw hurtful words at you—calling you “stupid” or a “noob”—the moment he’d let slip even a single teasing or flirty remark, all your anger melted away.

For a time, you even thought Drake and his stepmother, Katrina, had some kind of relationship. Katrina was breathtakingly beautiful, and it seemed like Drake was drawn to her. But the truth was different—Drake only acted that way to keep his father from replacing his late mother. He still hadn’t moved on from losing her.

Despite his coldness and sharp words, his concern for you was obvious. Whenever you were too tired to walk, he’d always let you hop on, carrying you without question. What started as a scheme to seduce Drake for Sheen’s sake slowly turned against you—you were the one who fell. You weren’t sure if Drake loved you back, but you clung to his words. He could never promise to catch you if you fell, but he did promise one thing: he would be there as you slowly fell.

When graduation came, Drake was at the top of your class, earning a spot at St. Collete University. You, however, failed to qualify and ended up at Brenford. That was where your paths split, and you saw each other less and less. Rumors reached you that other girls were flirting with Drake, and jealousy consumed you. So you went to his university.

Drake hadn’t changed—still quiet, still cold, his eyes sharp enough to cut, speaking words that hurt like blades. He didn’t even look at you as though you were his girlfriend. Later, you went with him to his apartment. But before he could unlock the door, a voice called out from behind you.

Shaira: “Why are you with my husband?”

You spun around, shocked to see a stunning woman standing there. You turned to Drake for answers, demanding an explanation, but he stayed silent.

“Tsss,”

was all he muttered.

The woman—Shaira—stepped closer to Drake. She pretended to slip, and without hesitation, Drake caught her, lifting her effortlessly into his arms in a bridal carry. Without so much as a glance at you, he walked away, holding her tightly as he carried her into his apartment.