Rival's Marriage Agreement

Cameron’s POVThe party was in full swing—loud music, flashing lights, and the overwhelming scent of sweat and alcohol. Frat parties weren’t really my thing, but tonight was different. Tonight, I had a plan.Daniel nudged me as we stood near the back of the room. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the bass-thumping music.I nodded, even though my hands felt clammy. “It’s the only way,” I muttered.We’d set everything up. The camera was in position, tucked discreetly behind a stack of beer cases in the corner of the dimly lit room. All I had to do was slip the drug into Brandon’s drink, wait for things to get messy, and capture enough proof to ruin him.Brandon was already surrounded by people, laughing like he owned the place. He always had that air about him—cool, untouchable, like nothing ever fazed him. I hated that. I hated the way he made everything look so easy. He’d taken everything from me—my fraternity presidency, my father’s approval, my place in

Cameron’s POVI was losing my mind.The entire morning had been a blur of paranoia and sleepless exhaustion. Every time my phone vibrated, my stomach twisted so hard I thought I was gonna throw up. My mind wouldn’t stop replaying that night at the party—the heat, the way Brandon’s hands had felt on me, the way I had let it happen.And now? Now I was walking straight toward him.I spotted him near the quad, standing with a couple of his frat brothers like he didn’t have a single care in the world. Like my life wasn’t falling apart because of him.My blood boiled.Without thinking, I stormed up to him, grabbing his arm and yanking him away from his little audience.Brandon barely reacted, just raised an eyebrow as I dragged him behind one of the buildings. “Wow,” he said, his voice dry. “If you wanted to hold my hand, Cameron, all you had to do was ask.”My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “Shut up.”Brandon smirked. Smirked. Like this was some joke to him. Like he wasn’t the reason I was

Cameron’s POVThe silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.Dad still stood in the center of the living room, fists clenched, chest rising and falling with fury. The veins in his neck bulged like he was barely holding himself back from throwing another punch.Across from him, Eleanor sat on the couch, swirling a glass of wine like she was watching a particularly dramatic soap opera. She hadn’t said anything yet, but I could feel her presence like a knife at my back, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.“Really, Cameron?” she purred, her voice dripping with mockery. “You expect us to believe that?”I didn’t look at her. My eyes stayed on Dad.He was staring at me, his face dark and unreadable. I could practically see the gears in his head turning, calculating, looking for the cracks in my story.I needed to double down. If I backed out now, he’d never let me live it down.So, with more confidence than I actually felt, I shrugged. “Believe whatever you want. It doesn’t c

Cameron’s POV“You’re late,” I said the second Brandon stepped into the alleyway.He rolled his eyes like he always did, like nothing I said could ever bother him—even when I wanted it to.“You texted me five minutes ago, drama queen.”I scoffed and turned away, trying not to show how hard my heart was thudding in my chest. I hated that he made me feel like this—nervous, twitchy, like I was about to jump out of my skin. I was already spiraling, and his stupid smile wasn’t helping.“I could’ve died in those five minutes,” I muttered.“From what? Standing around and glaring at a dumpster? Yeah I can see the vision.”I spun back to him and my jaw tight. “I don’t have time for your silly jokes, we're in serious trouble.”That got his attention. His smirk faded just a little, and he took a step closer, the humor slipping from his face. He must’ve seen the panic I was trying to keep hidden under my usual ice.“What’s going on, Cameron?”God, the way he said my name made my cold heart skip

Cameron’s POV"Brandon!"His eyes snapped up to my face, wide and fake-innocent like he hadn’t just full-on ogled me five seconds ago. “Oh—crap—sorry.” he said, spinning around like he hadn’t planned this entire scene in his head already. “Didn’t mean to. Total accident.”I slapped my wet palm to my forehead. “Why are you still talking?!”“I panic.” he said from behind the door, like that was a valid excuse. “This is a high-stress situation. I saw your junk, Cam!”“YOU SAW BECAUSE YOU WALKED IN!”“Yeah but like… respectfully.”I groaned so loud it echoed. My soul straight-up left my body. I shut the water off and stood there, dripping in shame and rage and the kind of awkwardness that rewires your DNA.Then the door creaked again.Oh my god. Again?!“Brandon, I swear—if you open that door I will personally haunt your dreams.”He squeezed his eyes dramatically shut like that made anything okay. “Relax, diva. I brought you this.”He dangled something white and fuzzy in the air like it w