Chapter 2

Vanessa headed straight for my dorm with a group of student council members. On the way, she had one of them drag me along by the leash.

Every time I slowed down, the collar dug into my neck, leaving a red mark. Students pulled out their phones as we passed.

Some even whistled at me. "Hey, sugar mama! How about cutting me in on that eight million? How do you find time for all four Sterling brothers? You got them on a rotating schedule or something?"

Vanessa glanced back at me with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Hear that? The whole university knows what a slut you are now."

When we reached my dorm room, I grabbed the door handle. "The student council doesn't have the authority to search my room."

She pulled a form for a search authorization from her bag.

She'd filed the complaint herself. She was also the investigator. And, as it turned out, she'd approved the search too—three steps, all handled by one person.

Talk about efficiency.

Carter had followed us there. "Emily, just cooperate. If you've done nothing wrong, the university will clear your name."

"And who's going to pay if you damage my stuff?"

Vanessa waved her phone at me. "Why should we care if stolen goods get damaged?"

She swiped the key card, opened the door, and went straight for my closet. She moved like she already knew exactly where everything was.

The moment she opened the closet, a men's suit came into view. The crowd immediately started hooting.

Vanessa yanked it out and tossed it into a cardboard box. "Adrian's."

Next, she dug Blake's black credit card out of a drawer. On my desk was a watch Caleb had given me, and beside my bed sat the spare key to Dylan's sports car.

With every discovery, the insults from the hallway got louder.

"Wow, she really did get her claws into all four of them!"

"She's not just a gold digger. She's got the whole Sterling family on the hook!"

Vanessa shoved the black card against my cheek. "So this is what you get for sleeping with four different guys. How do you even sleep at night?"

I turned my face away. "Watch your mouth."

"What? You can sleep around, but you can't stand being called out for it?"

She yanked open my nightstand drawer. Inside were four envelopes. Each had the same message written on it—"Here's to a long and happy life, Princess."

Vanessa held them up to the camera and burst out laughing. "You're only 19, and you've already got men wishing you a long life? Guess you'll need plenty of time to spend all that money you're squeezing out of them!"

She ripped open the envelopes. There was no money inside, just four handwritten IOUs.

Vanessa glanced at them, then tore them to shreds. "Garbage."

My expression went cold. Those were apology notes the four brats had been forced to write after skipping a family dinner.

And they didn't owe me money—they each owed me a birthday together.

I was about to pick up the scraps when Vanessa spotted the rosewood box tucked away at the bottom of my closet.

Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, what's this? A little keepsake from one of your boyfriends?"

I stepped in front of her immediately. "Don't touch it."

Vanessa saw the look on my face, and her grin widened. She shoved me aside and flipped the lid open.

Inside was an old pendant. The stone was cloudy, and its edges were slightly worn. An old-fashioned letter S was engraved on the back.

Vanessa picked it up and turned it over in her hand. "Let me guess. You're going to tell me this is some priceless Sterling family heirloom?"

I held out my hand. "Put it back."

"You want it back?" She dangled the pendant out the window. "Get on your knees and call me 'Your Highness' three times. Then maybe I'll give it back."

I stared at her. "If you break that, you'll be sorry."

"Oh, please. It's some cheap flea-market junk. What could possibly happen?"

She laughed and opened her fingers. The pendant dropped from the third floor, and a sharp crack echoed from below.

For a second, my mind went blank.

Vanessa merely brushed off her hands, looking pleased with herself. "Quit acting like you're some rich heiress. Cheap junk belongs in the trash."

She leaned in and lowered her voice. "If you're that attached to it, go downstairs and pick up the pieces. You're already wearing a dog collar. Why not crawl over there and give the whole university a show?"