4 📽️ HE REALLY WILL KILL US ALL…

LORIAH

FOUR DAYS LATER…

I told everyone that Zakari pushed me into the pool.

Technically, it was a lie — he did not physically push me — but no one believed me. Not even my own mother.

The guests gave me looks of disdain, as if I was deliberately trying to stir up drama.

Sebastian said I was hallucinating.

Mama told me to stop throwing tantrums.

And Zakari? He sat in the corner, legs crossed, silently watching with a devilish smirk as I helplessly fought for the truth.

He did not even have to defend himself. It was my word against his, and no one fucking believed me.

Victoria even gave him an alibi. According to her, Zakari never left her side all night.

The lying, conniving bitch!

Since that day, I have gone on a non-stop plotting spree. I need to take my revenge on Zakari and at the same time, find a way to pay off Lola’s medical bills.

The sun is warm on my face as I walk into Winter Bridge College.

Stone buildings mirrored by shimmering glass rise in the air, tall and intimidating. The college screams old money. Students mill about in tailored coats and flashy designer outfits, wielding phones and laptops that probably costs more than our entire apartment building back in Romford.

I do not belong here. Sebastian Von Hale is the only reason I’m able to afford a college this expensive. And I no longer want to be shackled to the Von Hale family or live off their benevolence.

Which is why I’m terminating my admission today.

A minute later, I turn into the courtyard leading to the Dean’s office… and instantly get the feeling that something’s off.

The atmosphere feels tense.

Students stand around in clusters, talking to themselves in hushed, stiff whispers.

The whispers cease when I arrive. All eyes instantly zero in on me. Some stare with morbid curiosity, others with mockery dancing in their expressions.

What the fuck is going on? Why is everyone staring?

I’m about to tell them to fuck off when I see it. The world stops spinning.

I blink twice, three times to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

There, stretched taut across the limestone archway of the courtyard is a massive red banner. And it has my picture plastered on it.

All traces of colour drain from my face.

I barely notice as my backpack slips off my shoulders and hits the ground with a sharp thud.

I inch closer, bile rising in my throat as I read the message written on the banner.

“WARM WELCOME TO OUR CHARITY STUDENT OF THE YEAR, LORIAH STEELE!!

LET’S HOPE SHE’S NOTHING LIKE HER MOTHER — ROMFORD’S FIVE DOLLAR SPECIAL!”

For a moment, my brain refuses to connect the dots.

My mother? Romford’s $5 special?

Then it hits me, and my knees almost buckle.

I step back, a gasp of pure horror leaving my parted lips.

Whoever did this knows about Mama’s past. He knows she used to give blowjobs for $5 back in Romford. But how…?

God, I want to vomit.

My cheeks redden with a sharp sting of humiliation as the whispers gradually pick up tempo;

“…I heard her mother used to be a whore!”

“…she’s a home wrecker too. Poor Mrs. Von Hale was kicked out of her home because of her. Just shameless!”

“…I’m sure this little tramp is a gold digger just like her mother. I knew she didn’t belong here. How disgusting!”

Within minutes, half the school’s population whip out their phones and cameras, desperate to get pictures of the whore’s daughter.

To make things worse, the banner was printed into small sized fliers and pasted everywhere — on the brick pillars, classroom doors, the notice board… my face is littered everywhere.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I chant it in my head like a mantra, but a crack the size of a fist has formed in my heart, and it hurts like hell.

I can’t take it anymore.

Hot tears stream down my cheeks as I stumble backwards and almost crash onto the pavement.

Right then, I look up and my gaze clashes with my greatest nemesis.

Zakari Von Hale.

He’s draped against the balcony above the banner, flagged by his clique of five, looking like a king on his throne.

The dark, devilish smirk on his lips tells me all I need to know.

He did this.

That unfortunate bastard did this!

The pain and humiliation that threatened to choke me just three seconds ago dissolves, replaced by fury so venomous, it singes my veins.

Before I can give it a second thought, I’m stomping up the stairs, barreling straight for him.

The whispers become frenzied as Zakari and I come face to face.

I hate that I’m fuming, fucking shaking like my heart is about to explode. And he’s just… terrifyingly calm.

He lifts a brow, his expression dripping with disdain.

“If you have something to say, make it quick. I don’t have all day.”

That’s it.

Thwack!

“How dare you?!” I scream, my palm stinging from the aftereffect of connecting with his cheek. “I am sick and tired of your games, Zakari. Stay away from me!”

The crowd goes silent. For a full five seconds, no one dares to utter a peep.

Zakari caresses his rapidly reddening cheek, his smirk growing even wider.

The enormity of my actions finally dawns on me when he leans closer, his eyes two frightening tunnels of blackness.

“I needed a concrete reason to actually end you, Loriah. Thank you for walking into my little trap…”

***

LORIAH

Zakari was not playing around when he said he would end me.

Pictures and videos of our… violent altercation circulated the internet like wild fire. By midnight, I was known as “the hellcat who dared to slap a king.”

The next day, I received a three-month suspension letter from Winter Bridge.

I had applied for scholarships to various universities just yesterday, confident that my perfect grades would make it easy to get in.

This morning, I opened my laptop to see several rejection emails. Every single school I applied to rejected me at the exact same time.

Zakari definitely has something to do with this. I just don’t have the evidence to prove it.

I don’t regret slapping him. After all, he messed with me first. I only regret the fact that it’s interfering with my life.

Zakari came out of our little drama unscathed, of course. No one believed me when I said he was behind the posters.

I had no proof. The school claimed it was kids playing “harmless” pranks.

Surprisingly, all the posters vanished before noon. I got suspended and he got a freaking apology from the management of Winter Bridge.

Fucking retards.

I’m just about to close my laptop when the door swings open with a force that startles me.

Lola comes hobbling in.

Her face is ashen, her eyes wide like she’d just encountered a collection of ghosts.

I shoot to my feet immediately, wrapping my arms around her as she collapses against my chest.

“Lola? What’s going on, baby? Talk to me.”

She’s trembling. Lola is a brave girl, but sometimes, she suffers from anxiety.

“She’s d-dead, Loriah. She’s dead.”

I go rigid, my hand stopping mid air.

“Who’s dead? Lola, what happened?”

She shoves away from me, tears steaming down her cheeks.

“Mrs. Von Hale is dead. I told mommy to call off this stupid marriage, now Mrs. Von Hale died of heart failure. She couldn’t take the heartbreak, so she died!”

A sharp, piercing pain blooms in my chest as I stumble backwards.

“No,” I whisper, eyes wide with disbelief, “this cannot be happening.”

“Zakari is hysterical.” Loriah babbles, “he’s going to kill his father, Loriah. He’s gone wild. No one can stop him.”

I pull my shaking sister into my arms, my brain already spiraling with a million and one thoughts.

Deep down, the fear in my stomach tells me all I need to know.

If Zakari eventually kills his father, he will not stop there.

He will kill us all. I need to get Lola out of here.