LOGIN
Luke’s POV
The bitter aroma of freshly roasted coffee was the only thing keeping my nerves in place as I hurried through the halls of St. Hale University. Today was my 18th birthday. The day my boyfriend, Rusty Bayron, was finally supposed to introduce me to his world. For six months, Rusty and I have been in love in secret. Being the star athlete, no one expects him to choose a man over a woman, so our meetings stay hidden from everyone. But last night, his promises changed everything. "Tomorrow we’ll make it official, Luke," he had whispered in my ear. "Tomorrow, the world will know that I like you and we can be together." A small smile played on my lips. Rusty had always leaned toward the dramatic, even if he occasionally used burner phones due to his obsession with privacy. I had simply put on my favorite shirt and walked through the university corridors until I reached the auditorium wing. As I approached, I noticed the heavy oak doors were ajar. Rusty was definitely in there! With a wide smile on my face, I pushed the door open—but what I thought would be the happiest day of my life instantly turned into my personal hell. What I saw didn't just break my heart; it incinerated my soul. Spread across one of the front-row desks was Karla. His best friend, the only person on the entire campus who knew we were boyfriends, the one who had helped us hide. Her skirt was bunched up at her waist, and her legs were locked firmly around Rusty’s hips. He was devouring her with a carnal urgency he had never dared to show me. "Fuck, baby… just as tight as always!" Rusty groaned, hammering into her like a demon. "Mmm… I’m yours… always yours!" she gasped, arching her back in total ecstasy. The coffee cup slipped from my numb fingers. The cardboard hit the floor with a thud that was almost useless against the loud moans echoing through the room. I felt the scalding liquid splash my shoes, but I didn't feel the burn. All I felt was the void tearing its way through my chest. I couldn't believe it. Was this a lie? It had to be a nightmare! But as I stepped back, my spine hit a set of instruments, and the two semi-naked bodies spun around abruptly toward me. Rusty’s face went deathly pale. Karla, on the other hand, didn't make the slightest effort to cover herself. She leaned back, staring at me with a predatory smirk as she calmly adjusted her hair. "Luke…" Rusty’s voice was a broken, pathetic whisper as he clumsily tried to pull up his pants. "What… what are you doing here?" I didn't answer. I only heard Karla’s sharp, mocking laughter as she slid off the desk with insulting elegance. "I’m the one who called him…" she said, stepping toward me. She smelled of the expensive perfume I had spent months saving for just to give her for her birthday. "Did you really believe a man like Rusty would prefer a man over me? You were just a bet." My eyes went wide. I had no idea what Karla was talking about, but she made sure to explain. "You see… Rusty bet the guys he could make the little scholarship boy fall in love with him," Karla said. Those words felt like a massive blade piercing my chest. I looked at Rusty, waiting for him to defend me, to deny the bet, to say something. But he only looked at Karla and hissed, "Shut up, Karla! That's enough." His silence toward me was the final nail in my coffin. He didn't defend me; he only tried to silence the scandal. He wasn't the man I loved; he was just a disgusting coward. "But he’s already won the bet," she continued with venom. "He doesn't have to keep pretending he likes boys anymore." I clenched my fists, wanting to lunge forward and strike the smile off her face. But I just stood there, feeling the raw agony of betrayal. I turned my gaze to Rusty, pointing a trembling finger at him. "A woman, Rusty?" My voice came out as a thread of pure agony as I watched them pull apart. "You swore to me I was the only one. You looked me in the eyes and promised you were done with women, that you would never touch one again because 'I was enough! "You goddamn bastard!" My own words burned my throat. "No. Luke… Please… let’s talk." I didn't stay to hear his excuses. I turned and bolted toward the main hallway, my vision blurred by the tears I refused to shed in front of those traitors. I was so blinded by pain, so consumed by the fire in my chest, that I slammed head-first into a solid, unmoving chest that sent me reeling backward. Strong arms gripped my shoulders, steadying me. The scent of expensive tobacco and mint enveloped me immediately. I looked up and met a pair of frigid eyes, the color of ice just before it cracks. "Still as clumsy as ever, Luke." The voice was a deep baritone, laced with an arrogance I knew all too well. Frederick. My personal tormentor. The man who had made it his mission to mock my second-hand clothes and my scholarship since I turned eighteen, until he left to study abroad for a semester. He was taller, more muscular, and his presence radiated a darkness that made me instinctively recoil. "Let go of me, Frederick," I spat, trying to wrench myself from his iron grip. He didn't help me. He just looked at me with a sadistic curiosity, as if he could smell the scent of betrayal on my skin. "Go home, little mouse. You’re pathetic," he said, releasing me with an almost imperceptible shove and continuing to walk with that predatory elegance that made other students clear a path for him. I hated him. I hated Frederick, I hated Karla, and above all, I hated Rusty. Soon I reached my small apartment trembling, with the sole intention of locking myself away and crying until my chest stopped burning. But upon opening the door, I found something I didn't expect. There were boxes everywhere. But what surprised me most were the three massive men, dressed in impeccable black suits with earpieces, moving through our living room with arrogance. My mother was in the center of the room, wearing a pearl-colored silk dress we could never have afforded. "Luke! You’re just in time!" She ran toward me and took my hands, ignoring my red eyes and disastrous appearance. "I have the most wonderful news of our lives! I’m getting married!" I stood speechless, watching the giants in black suits carry out our things as if they owned our very existence. "You’re getting married? To whom? Mom, what is going on? These men… they scare me." "Oh, don’t be silly!" She waved her hand, dismissing my concern with a blinding smile. "It’s my fiancé’s security team. We’re moving to his mansion today. This is our chance to start from scratch, Luke! No more debts, no more fearing the end of the month." I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. "Mom, what are you talking about?" I forced her to look at me. "I’ve heard stories about the man you’re dating. We can’t just go with him because he has money!" "Enough with the horror stories, Luke!" Her tone turned sharp. "Richard is a gentleman. He has been generous to me and will be to you. Stop acting like a paranoid child and get in the car." "It’s a mistake! You’ve only known each other for a month!" I screamed, but she was already barking orders at the bodyguards. A tall man, with a scar running through his eyebrow, approached me. "Sir, the car is waiting downstairs." His voice was cold and distant. My mother didn't hesitate; with a smile, she walked toward the elevator without looking back, dazzled by the sparkle of a diamond ring that now adorned her hand. I went down to the entrance and saw a black armored sedan with pitch-black windows. Two other identical cars waited in line. It looked like a luxury funeral procession. I climbed into the back seat, feeling like I couldn't breathe. My mother talked incessantly about the luxuries of the mansionI finished bathing, the hot water causing my skin to turn red. I stepped out of the shower, took the rough towel, and rubbed it over my body with energetic, almost violent movements, as if trying to rip away an invisible layer of dirt that persisted on my skin.Once again, I deliberately avoided looking into the foggy mirror. I went straight to the room's closet, pulled out a pair of dark jeans, and a navy-blue button-down shirt.I dressed mechanically, buttoning it up to my neck to hide the cold I felt inside.Exactly thirty minutes passed before I took my university bag and opened the bedroom door.I went down the spiral staircase, expecting to face the firing squad that was the Bayron family. But as I entered the main dining room, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Frederick wasn't there. Richard wasn't either. Only my mother was sitting at the table, drinking tea from a porcelain cup."Good morning, sweetheart," she said, looking up with that sweet, uninformed smile that alwa
The digital stylus slid over the illuminated screen of the tablet with a monotonous, almost surgical rhythm. A straight line for the east wing hallway.A dense square for Frederick’s private office. A blurred circle for the blind spots that the security cameras of the Bayron mansion left clear in the back garden.My eyes burned, bloodshot from the accumulated exhaustion of hours of insomnia. When the digital clock in the upper right corner marked exactly 3:00 a.m., I finally let the stylus drop onto the quilt.I let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to dissipate immediately into the absolute silence of my room.I set the tablet aside and threw myself onto my back, feeling the mattress cushion my fatigue, and reached my hand toward the nightstand to grab a manila folder that burned my conscience.I opened it over my head, holding it with hands that wouldn't stop trembling slightly. It was my family’s financial statements.Bank accounts that used to overflow with zeros and were now a d
My hand burned, but Frederick didn't even blink. His head barely moved to the side. He looked back at me, and this time, the glint in his eyes was pure sadism."That’s what I wanted to see," he whispered.Before I could react, he grabbed my wrists with brute force. With a quick movement, he shoved me against the office's side wall. My back hit the wall with a dull thud. He raised my hands and immobilized them over my head, squeezing them with just one of his large hands."Let me go, you son of a bitch!" I shouted, struggling, trying to kick his legs, but he shoved his knee between mine, immobilizing me completely. "Don't you dare touch me!"Frederick placed his free hand on my neck, not to choke me, but to pin me against the wall. His fingers squeezed the tendons at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him."Are you going to keep pretending, Luke?" he asked me, his face inches from mine. "Are you going to keep pretending that you aren't hard right now?""Go to hell!" I spat dir
LUKE’S POV"I’m already done with that stupid practice, Frederick! Leave me the hell alone once and for all!" I shouted at him, turning my back on him while my boots echoed loudly against the entrance marble.I could still feel the trembling in my knees from the suicidal car race, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter. I walked toward the mansion’s large oak doors, wanting to bury myself in my room.But I didn't get far. Before I could cross the threshold into the great hall, I felt his fingers close like a vice around my bicep. With a violent and expert yank, Frederick forced me to spin, slamming my back against his solid chest. His mouth brushed my ear, and I could feel his erratic breathing, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine."Don't be impatient," Frederick hissed, his voice vibrating with dark satisfaction. "In this family, there’s a sort of ritual when someone passes their first real practice. You can't just go to sleep as if you hadn't sho
Frederick kept his hands firm on the leather steering wheel, but his eyes never stopped searching for Luke through the rearview mirror.He watched him like someone contemplating a work of art that had just revealed a fascinating crack.The boy was sitting in the passenger seat, his breathing still somewhat labored, but with a calm on his face that bordered on insulting after having shot a man.Frederick broke the silence with a voice that carried a mixture of irony and dangerous curiosity."Are you aware of what you just did, Luke?" Frederick asked. His voice was an icy whisper that cut through the hum of the engine.Luke didn't even blink. He ran a hand through his new haircut, messing it up with an indifference that made Frederick grip the wheel tighter."I shot a traitor, Frederick. Isn't that what you wanted to see?" Luke responded, turning his head to hold his gaze through the mirror. "Or maybe it disappointed you that I didn't miss."Frederick let out a dry laugh, a vibration lo
Frederick pulled his Glock 19 from the holster on his back and, with a fluid movement, extended it to Luke by the grip."Kill him," Frederick ordered.Luke looked at the weapon and then at Frederick."You want me to kill him?""Yes. Andrew is useless to us; I no longer care if he lives or dies, but I want to see if you have what it takes to be a Bayron. Shoot."Luke took the weapon. The metal was cold and heavy in his hand. The mercenaries stood still, expectant. He looked at Andrew, who was staring back with pleading eyes. Frederick expected Luke to tremble, to vomit, to return the weapon begging for mercy. Instead, Luke raised his arm with terrifying steadiness.BANG!The shot resonated like thunder. Andrew let out a gut-wrenching scream. Luke hadn't hit him in the head. The projectile had pierced his right shoulder, at the exact point to shatter the joint without touching a vital artery."What the fuck did you do?" Frederick roared, snatching the weapon back. "I said kill him!""







