He owns the school. I just survive in it. Matt was supposed to be my safe place. My best friend. My maybe-someday. Until he chose her—the girl who’s bullied me for being poor, curvy, and unwanted since day one. Now he’s dating her, and I’m left with nothing… Except rage. And a deal I never saw coming. Lucien Knox Ravenscroft is danger in a tailored uniform—the son of a trillionaire, heir to Ravenscroft Academy, and the guy every girl wants. He also happens to be her ex. And nobody dumps him. Especially not for some millionaire’s son. So when he offers me a deal—a fake relationship that puts us front and center—I say yes. He wants revenge. I want Matt to regret ever choosing her. But then comes the bet. If Matt notices me again, I win—and Lucien will help me ruin her. If not… I’m his. For as long as he wants me. Now the whole school is watching. My father works for his powerful, monstrous dad. My crackhead mother is a secret buried deep. And Lucien? He doesn’t believe in soft. He plays dirty. And the more we fake it, the more real it feels. This isn’t love. This is war. Fake Dating the Bad Boy for Revenge is a dark high school romance filled with betrayal, secrets, obsession, and a heroine who refuses to stay quiet. No one fakes a relationship with Lucien Knox Ravenscroft… and survives it whole.
View MoreSLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.
Everyone says heartbreak feels like drowning. They were wrong. Mine felt like fire. Fire in my lungs, my chest, the back of my throat. Consuming, burning, hot. Matt, my best friend boy I've loved since forever, the boy I made cardboard cut-outs of, replaying the moment he'd ask me to be his finally, stands there, laughing with the girl who's made my life hell for two years that I have attended this school. He didn't just break my heart - he handed it to her on a platter of fucking gold. And now, they're kissing in the hallway like no one else exists - like I don't exist to him. I wasn't supposed to see it- I don't think anyone was supposed to. The hallway was quiet, too quiet, empty, but I turned the corner, and there he was. Laughing with her, his hands around her waist as he places his lips on her cheek. And my world-whatever little of it that was left-crashes, crumbles, under the weight of his betrayal. He chose her. The girl who sneers at my secondhand shoes. The one who calls me a “charity case” loud enough for everyone to hear. The one who reminds me every day that my father works for her boyfriend’s father… and that my mother is nothing more than a ghost in my records. Except she isn’t dead. She’s just… lost. And now I am too. Ravenscroft High wasn’t made for girls like me. Not with my curves, my thrifted uniforms, my full scholarship status. Not when the halls are littered with descendants of legacy billionaires and royalty-level egos. This was a blessing in disguise, a gift from Mr Ravenscroft to my father for his outstanding service at work as his secretary, and the one boy that knew that from my lips, not from some tabloid publication, not from the whispers and sneers of the elite students in this ancient school, stands with the one girl that tormented me for it. Kissing her, holding her, touching her. I clutched my books tighter against my chest, backing away before they noticed me. But I should’ve known better. This is Ravenscroft. Someone always notices. I turn to my right, ready to run out of the hall before I scream, to find a small space to cry, vent, and weep at this betrayal. And that is when I saw him. Lucien Knox Ravenscroft. This school's god, king, prized possession, hockey and lacrosse champion, the son of Eldric Ravenscroft, and the very bane of my existence. The one person who would inherit the trillions of dollars from his aristocratic family was staring at me. His blue eyes on me permeate something into the air, their icy nature suddenly rendering the room cold as chills run up my spine. His tattoos peek from the collar of his shirt; the drawing of a skull on his neck was clear as day. He's my bully, the son of my father's employer, and my benefactor, the one who started this entire bullying of Sloane agenda. It started one day in the cafeteria. I unknowingly sat on a seemingly empty seat, ready to dive into the enemy father on my first day. 'For good luck,' He had said. Little did I know, I had entered hell. The hall had suddenly become silent as I sat on the white seat cushion-like enclave of the chair, feeling like something made for royalty. All of a sudden, from the corner of my eye, I saw someone, a girl with dark hair and gothic vibes, whispering. "Get up, now!" I should have listened. Should have bolted out of the seat like it was acid, lava, and not the heavenly chair it was, and run. Far from the cafeteria, this school, this city. The door to the large hall suddenly opened, the band hitting the wall, jolting me from my almost-opened sandwich. I looked up, and there he was, the golden boy. Dressed in his uniform, navy blue pants, white shirt, and navy blue jacket, with tattoos his clothes did nothing to conceal, a piercing gaze, and a smirk on his lips, he walked in. His six-foot frame stood over everyone in the hall as his friends accompanied him. Four tall guys. Kai Blackthorne. Theo Maddox Lucian Stone. Prescott Smith. The four horsemen, as they are dubbed in this school, and Roxanne, the school's bimbo, on Lucien's arm. The first place Ravenscroft looked at was the seat I occupied. I remember his eyes, his stony expression, the rage in them, and the way I almost wet my pants in fear. That day, I realised one thing: this school was hell, and I am no better than an animal for being a scholarship kid. Gulping and fighting my fear, I made eye contact, clutching my books to my chest so tightly, I thought they'd crumble under my grip. And worst, he smirked. Like he could taste my heartbreak. Like he’d been waiting for it. “Rough day, scholarship girl?” he drawled, pushing off the wall with a lazy elegance that shouldn’t have looked that good. I hated him. Or at least, I was supposed to. Lucien was the kind of boy who didn’t just rule the school; he owned it. Literally. His family founded the Ravenscroft group. His father sat on the board, and his last name was on the east wing of the building. And I was the helper’s daughter. I stiffened. “Go to hell, Ravenscroft.” He chuckled, like I was a joke he couldn’t wait to unravel, his gaze not once turning from mine. “Already there, darling. Want to join me?” I moved to pass him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking the hallway with one hand braced above my head. His scent hit me. His sharp cologne smelled like leather, and something darker. Something so expensive that it'd buy everything I owned and much more....way more. “You planning on crying in the girls’ bathroom?” he asked, now closer than ever. So close I could feel his knees against my thighs, the contrast of his strong knees to my soft thighs sent butterflies down my belly. I refused to answer, choosing to bite my tongue instead, before I'd say something to cost my father his job. His smirk widened. “They don’t deserve your tears, Sloane, only I do.” His wicked gaze on mine as his golden blonde hair sits beautifully on his head. He looks like he was sculpted by the Greek gods, an object fit to send women, young and old, into a frenzy. The scandal of his having relations with a teacher last year spread around the school like wildfire. The news then was that a female teacher gave him a head job. In no time, the teacher was mysteriously fired the following day, and Lucien? He was apologised to and taken for counselling for 'Mental health evaluation for wrong done to him' The principal was suddenly fired from school as well. And suddenly, no one dared whisper the news anymore, fear of extinction too strong to avoid. My name on his lips did something wicked to my spine. “You don’t know anything about it,” I snapped. He glanced toward the hallway where Matt and his new girlfriend still stood; oblivious, enamoured, and disgusting. “Oh, I know enough,” Lucien said softly. “Like how he was your best friend. Like how you loved him, but he never saw you, never gave you his time of day. Everyone can see it; it's almost sickening.” My throat tightened. “What do you want?” His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. “To offer you a deal.” A sharp ring of the bell echoed from the cafeteria as people poured out for lunch. At the sight of students rounding the corner, Lucien takes a couple of steps back, his hands in his pockets lazily as he says, stunning me; “Date me.”SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.The music was so loud it felt like the floor itself had a pulse, as it started thrumming up through my heels, and my bones, until it was inside me. Gold lights dripped from the ceiling in thick chains and ribbons, as the entire room smelled like champagne, cigarettes, weed, and the kind of trouble you couldn’t wash off in the morning.Lucien’s hand was still at the small of my back as we moved, with him guiding me forward through the crush of bodies. He didn’t look at anyone, but everyone looked at him. That was the thing about Lucien Ravenscroft; you either watched him as he walked into the room or you pretended not to while burning up with jealousy on the inside.And tonight, I was on his arm as two things;His fake girlfriend.His public possession.“You’re staring at me,” he murmured, leaning just close enough against the stairs as he pulled me close to him, removing any space between us so that his lips brushed the shell of my ear.It was deliberate, espe
SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW. It wasn’t real. But in Ravenscroft Academy, truth never mattered. Only power did. And Lucien? He had all of it. This school was practically his playground—a field his father had given him; he owned everything. He smirks at me, a grin in his eyes as he swirls his phone in his hand, the tattoo of an ace of spades beautifully drawn on the back of his right hand. Overwhelmed, I rose from my seat, barely giving a damn about who was watching. Everyone's eyes were on Roxanne, the new object of all gossip. That's what happens when Lucien strips his protection from you-- you're left on your own, the wolves and sharks ready to close in on you. I found myself in the girls’ bathroom after that. I needed a second to breathe, maybe to hide, the weight of everything crushing me. The hum of the fluorescent light above buzzed too loudly, the smell of lavender soap almost suffocating. I gripped the sink, knuckles whitening, watching my reflection like she might give m
SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.I quickly slapped on a sweater and pants before I rushed out of the house. I realised something after that text: Lucien could never drive to this part of the neighbourhood. Someone would notice his expensive car, which had no business in this part of town, and it would be a matter of time before my dad would hear of it.I quickly shot him a text as to where I would be."Meet me at the same spot you picked me up from last time."A few minutes later, Lucien’s black Aston Martin idled at the curb like it had no business being in my part of town, as he pulled in beside me like a king on a throne. The expensive engine of the car purred from where it was parked, and I quickly got in to avoid more of the heads that turned this way at the sight of an expensive car in the middle-class neighbourhood.Every head on the street turned to look, but he didn’t appear fazed. He sat behind the wheel like the world was his waiting room, as he tapped his fingers against the leathe
SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.She walked ahead of me into the arts room, before turning so abruptly that I almost reeled back in shock. She looked at me with sharp eyes filled with what looked like concern and sympathy. I stepped toward her, but she didn’t move right away. Instead, her eyes met mine in a way that made my skin prickle; not with fear, but rather with the sense that she was weighing me out, and measuring something I couldn’t see.When she finally spoke again, her voice dropped low, meant only for me. It made me feel like someone was listening in on us from another part of the school. She leaned in as she stepped closer to me, so close that I could smell her strawberry cologne."Miss Bishop… in this school, not every crown is made of gold. Some are forged from iron. And iron… cuts deeper. Be careful, because if you keep playing with the crown, you'd be cut off from it sooner than you'd realise."Before I could ask what she meant, she turned on her heel and swept down the hall,
SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.As I'd suspected, Roxanne didn't wait before firing the first blow. It came before the second period that day, like a silent, slow poison, but I felt it. The photo hit before the second period.I didn’t even get the chance to breathe.There it was, blasted across every group chat like gospel. A shot of me curled into Lucien’s lap, my head tilted back in laughter, his hand on my waist like I belonged there. Like I was his.A doctored photo, but for some reason, everyone believed it, even though they knew Lucien and I never hung out, not even for a project. His wing of the school was completely different from mine, and off-limits to the scholarship kids.Everyone still believed it, and it spread like wildfire. The rumour is going wild across the school. I heard the whispers before I saw the caption.SELLING YOURSELF FOR TUITION? DADDY'S WORK AS THE HELP MUST NOT BE PAYING OFF.The first time I saw it, my heart didn’t break.It clenched, tight, hot, furious, read
LUCIEN'S POINT OF VIEW.The engine purred beneath me like a beast restrained, its growl low and threatening as I leaned back against the leather seat of my Lamborghini. The early morning sun filtered through the tinted windshield, casting gold across the sleek black dash. But I wasn’t watching the road.I was watching her.Sloane.Curvy, scowling, stubborn Sloane—marching up the sidewalk like she was daring the universe to touch her. Her books clutched to her chest. Her yellow-dyed hair caught the light like fire. She didn’t know I’d been parked on this street for ten minutes.Correction: She didn’t know I’d been watching her every morning since the bet.Scratch that, every morning since she walked through the halls of Ravenscroft High.But today wasn’t just any morning.Today, we arrived.I rolled the window down slowly.“Sloane,” I called out.She stopped like someone had yanked her spine back. Her eyes locked onto mine with the precision of a sniper’s aim, her eyes wide in shock an
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