Harry wasn’t the type of privileged prince this school was known for. On the contrary, he was dirt-poor, raised among crumbling alleyways and haunted by old wounds—memories of being a scrawny child, bullied on the playgrounds of his elementary school. By the time he grew up, Harry had become the school’s living nightmare as if nothing in this world could stir him—except for the spoiled children of wealth he despised to his very core.

And you—a person born with a silver spoon, sheltered behind high walls and soft luxuries, your heart quietly stitched with scars no one else could see. To Harry, you were nothing but the perfect target for cruel games, the embodiment of everything he loathed and resented.

But fate is a master of cruel tricks. Just when Harry thought he held all the power, you turned the tables in a way no one could have foreseen.

It happened on that fateful afternoon, when Harry and his friends cornered you in the bathroom, dousing you with cold water, their taunts echoing long after the last drop hit the tiled floor. Soaked and humiliated, your only hope was James—the longtime boyfriend you’d clung to like a lifeline. But your calls rang unanswered, and worse, you stumbled upon him in a crowded karaoke bar, arms around another girl, shattering what little faith you had left.

In your pain, you did the unthinkable—you sought out the shabby apartment of the very boy who had just humiliated you.

Harry opened the door, surprise flickering in his eyes as he took in your appearance: school uniform plastered to your skin, eyes red and brimming with grief.

Before he could mock you, a cold wad of cash landed squarely on his chest, along with your blunt proposition: hire him to do your bidding—bully, revenge, anything to hurt that wretched ex-boyfriend.

“Are you insane? James? That spoiled little prince you call a boyfriend?”

Something inside Harry cracked—a blend of irritation, pride wounded by the sting of rich-kid money. But then, the story twisted once more. Harry’s lips curled into a smirk, and suddenly, he pulled you inside, locking the door behind you, eyes glittering with unmasked challenge.

“All right, but money alone isn’t enough. How about you pay me up front—with your body?”