Chapter 2

Thelma's POV

"She’s such a cheap slut. Imagine throwing herself at Collins all these years!" I heard a voice snap as I walked out of uni after lectures.

"I bet any man whose dick goes near her hole will get lost in it," another sneered behind me, loud enough for me to hear.

More whispers followed as I passed by, hushed tones mixed with cruel laughter. But I kept walking. I didn’t stop. I didn’t confront them. I couldn’t. Because deep down, I knew the truth and that they were all lies. I wasn’t a whore. I had never even been with a man before.

Last week, when Collins and Vanessa had thrown those words at me, I thought it was out of anger, a misunderstanding or maybe even desperation to cover their betrayal. But now, hearing it everywhere, seeing how quickly the rumor spread through campus, I knew better. This was deliberate and they were responsible. They had destroyed my name before I could ever tarnish theirs.

I had caught them betraying me and somehow, I was the villain. How ironic.

Students stared at me when I walked past, their eyes sharp and judging. Some sneered, others laughed behind their phones, probably scrolling through posts and messages about me. Their mutters followed me everywhere, gnawing at my chest like thorns digging deeper into flesh.

And the worst part? I knew where it came from.

When I’d been desperate for money last semester, desperate enough to cover my mother’s hospital bills after I couldn’t secure a side job, I had stupidly created an OnlyFans account. My real name. My real photo. A foolish, reckless attempt to find fast money. I hadn’t even posted anything. I had abandoned it almost immediately, guilt consuming me because I knew my mother would never accept such a thing. Even in desperation, I couldn’t bring myself to go down that path.

But I had forgotten to delete the account. And back then, I had told Vanessa everything. My struggles. My shame. My darkest thoughts. Who knew that one day, she’d twist it all to ruin me, to brand me a whore in front of the entire university?

How sickening. I thought as sadness wanted to swallow me whole.

*****

The music pounded in my ears, vibrating through my chest. Neon lights flickered, bodies swayed, voices shouted over the noise and the sharp stench of booze mixed with sweat filled the air. But I didn’t care.

I clutched my drink tightly, gulping it down as though it could drown everything I was feeling.

I had come to the club to forget, to lose myself in the chaos. Vanessa had always talked about places like this back when we were friends, bragging about how wild it was, how freeing. And yet, it took her betrayal—hers and Collins’—to bring me here for the first time in my life.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, blurring the flashing lights. My heart was too heavy to hold it all in. My mother’s hospital bills kept piling up. My life was unraveling faster than I could piece it together. The holidays were coming and I needed a job if I wanted to survive. And now this heartbreak, this humiliation, this loneliness. It was too much.

So I let the tears fall. No one here knew me. No one here cared enough to mock me. For the first time since it all happened, I didn’t try to hide the pain—I let it pour out of me as freely as the alcohol I swallowed.

The glass emptied quickly and a strange dizziness wrapped around me. My body felt lighter, my mind fuzzy. One shot and I was already swaying. I had never drunk before, never tested my limits. I hadn’t known how low they were.

But tonight, it didn’t matter.

Tonight, I just wanted to forget.

I stood up and staggered out of the club, my head spinning, my vision blurring, when my knees almost gave way. Just as I was about to crash to the ground, a strong hand slid against my waist, steadying me.

Looking up, I froze. A tall, impossibly handsome man towered over me, his gaze locked on mine with an intensity that sent shivers racing down my spine. My chest tightened and at the same time, something strange stirred inside me. A sensation I couldn’t explain.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and musky, curling through me like velvet smoke.

I blinked, still lost in the spell of his eyes, in the sharp perfection of his face, in the way his hand fit so firmly around me. And then he spoke again, that voice dragging me further under.

“Are you alright?” he repeated when I didn’t answer the first time.

The alcohol burning in my system didn’t help. I was tipsy and unsteady, my thoughts colliding with one another. I couldn’t control myself, couldn’t silence the wild pull screaming inside me.

I shut my eyes. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe if I opened them again, he would be gone. But when I did, he was still there, staring at me. Waiting.

Before I knew it, I leaned closer. My lips brushed his. And then I kissed him.

I half-expected him to push me away, to vanish like smoke, but he didn’t move. His lips stayed on mine.

I kissed him harder. His taste was intoxicating—like velvet, like something forbidden yet irresistible. My courage came out of nowhere, raw and reckless and I buried my lips against his with a hunger I couldn’t name.

At first, he didn’t resist. But then, slowly, he kissed me back.

That broke something inside me. I gripped his neck, holding him tightly, terrified that if I let go he would disappear. My lips pressed deeper, desperate, demanding. And then something shifted in the air around us like the entire club had fallen away.

His mouth moved against mine, hot and insistent. He pulled me closer, tightly into him, his arms caging me in as if I belonged there. His tongue found mine, teasing, sucking and tasting me until I gasped against his lips. The way he kissed me, fierce and consuming, made my head spin even more.

And instead of slowing down, I kissed him harder. Matching his intensity, chasing that dangerous high.

A whore.

The word slashed across my mind. Collins’ voice. Vanessa’s sneer. The whispers on campus.

Maybe they were right. Maybe I could start being one, right here, right now, in this club. I was twenty-two, wasn’t I? I had a choice. My body. My life. My willpower. If I wanted to be a whore, I could. If I wanted to stop, I could.

No one had the right to define me. No one had the right to betray me and still throw stones.

This man, this stranger and what I was sharing with him right now… it felt like the escape I had been craving. The release. The freedom. The fire I’d been missing all along.

And I wasn’t about to let it slip away.

Taking it was exactly what I was going to do.