Beg For My Help, Princess.

BIANCA

I walked on eggshells the entire day. Spooked by the slightest sound, unnerved by every traded glance.

I'd gotten so used to disappearing whenever I was here, it felt unnatural to feel anything but invisible.

All because someone somewhere in this sea of bodies knew my secret... and my mind wouldn't stop forcing that realization down my throat.

By the last lecture, I had to throw on my most composed mask yet.

LIT 107, Creative Writing.

With Professor Campbell absent, the Literature Club President was tapped to lead. That responsibility, unfortunately, fell on me.. despite my spiraling headspace.

“What readers say they want and what they actually want are two different things,” Jonathan argued, slamming his palms on the desk in delight. “They claim to want an impenetrable female character, but trust me... none of them resonate with that.”

He grinned wider. “They want a slutty princess that moans and begs to be used like a whore.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean, Jonathan?!”

Pandemonium erupted. The theatre hall swallowed the debate whole, rowdy voices drowning everything. The perfect distraction from my impending doom.

But it lasted until the basketball team trickled in. Uninvited. Unwelcome.

I spotted them first from the front of the class, reeking of anything but good news. Worse, leading the pack was that all-familiar face.

The Vice Captain. My Ex-boyfriend. Zane Harrison.

“That'll be all for now, guys. Mrs. Campbell should be back next week.”

I dismissed the class, scrambling to pack as calmly as I could manage. But before I could shove my last note into my bag, his hand pinned it to the desk.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was low. Close.

Goosebumps raced across my skin. I tried to shift, but he planted his other hand on the wood and caged me in. Heat coiled off his body as he pressed against my back... a mask of sweat and cologne invading my space.

“Why are you still wearing these oversized get-ups to school? God, you're so selfish with that body.”

I hated how he said it. Always had. His gaze stripped me bare; I felt it without looking.

“Get off me,” I muttered.

He ignored it. Leaned closer, breath hot on my neck. “I know this is your last lecture. Come grab lunch with me. We need to talk.”

“I don't have anything to say to you. Now get off, or I'll—”

“I'd lower that tone if I were you.” His voice soured. “Wouldn't want anyone to learn our little secret.”

My mind froze. Eyes widened.

Every stare in the room suddenly burned into me.

Cold sweat trickled down my spine, soaking into the thick cardigan now laced with his scent.

“Didn't you guys hear her?” He turned to the lingering crowd. “Class is dismissed. Get out. All of you.”

No one dared stand up to him. Zane's authority was ironclad after two years. Even those that were his former mates in high school couldn't manage to raise an eye in contest.

Me? I was tied to the 6’2 bastard by something much darker.

“They're gone. You can look me in the eyes now.”

I couldn't. Last night's fear had metamophorsed into full paralysis. Of all people... him? How?!

He spun me around, fingers digging into the small of my back, sliding lower than comfortable. Our eyes locked.

“Did you really think I wouldn't know?”

His tone hit like a slap. He pressed harder, pinning me to the table, extinguishing escape.

“If you needed money that badly, you should've come crawling back. I wouldn't mind sparing an old flame a couple bucks.”

My pulse hammered. I pictured it: him finding my page, spreading proof, ruining everything. Real this time, not the rumors from before.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say you need my help. Beg me to come back. If you don't pay off your tuition by next week, you can kiss your little dreams bye bye."

My mind twinged. He wasn't lying about the tuition deadline... but something felt off. His pressure didn't land as hard as it should.

He noticed my shift, pressed until I cracked in his arms.

“I heard all about it from the little lady at the bursary. Don't worry. Your secret’s safe with me. If you're willing to comply.”

Wait... that's the secret?!

Fear doused into annoyance. I shoved him off, madder at myself for panicking than at his sleazy tactics.

He wasn't the DM guy from last night. And he definitely wasn't worth my energy.

"You stubborn little slut" he growled, but I paid no attention.

Snatching my bag, I slung over my shoulder and took a stride in the direction opposite him. But just as I stepped forward, his palm flew... aiming straight for my face.

It happened fast.

A blur intercepted. Grabbed his wrist. Twisted. Bent. Pinned both arms behind his back.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” The growl vibrated through the empty hall.

My eyes widened, my vision suddenly filled with his massive frame. Stout, built, appearing from nowhere.

The Captain of the Basketball Team.

Max Callaghan.