“A whore in the making,” he said, letting the sharpness of it cut through the din of noise.

Clara's POV

The bus ride had been my only reprieve—a chance to bury my face in my notebook and pretend the world outside didn’t exist. But stepping onto campus, I realized peace was never meant for me.

University buzzed with life. Students rushed to lectures, laughter and gossip spilling into the hallways.

I slid into my usual seat near the back of the lecture hall, grateful to see Jenna already there, her bright smile a beacon amid my stormy thoughts. She always had a way of making things feel just a little lighter, if only for a moment.

“Rough morning?” she whispered as I sank into the chair, hoping my expression didn’t betray the turmoil churning inside me.

I nodded, forcing a small smile. “You could say that.”

Before she could press further, the classroom door creaked open, cutting through the low hum of conversation. A hush fell over the room as students straightened, ready for the professor to walk in.

But it wasn’t him.

It was Nolan. And Rebecca, glued to his side like a shimmering accessory.

Immediacy struck the atmosphere, like one of those snap judgments you don’t dare to voice. The whispers began instantly. Excited, breathless murmurs broke out among the students, mixing envy with admiration.

“Is that Nolan Carter?”

“Oh my God, he’s even hotter in person.”

“Rebecca and him—such a power couple.”

I froze, every muscle in my body stiffening. Why was he here? This wasn’t his class. An unwelcome sense of dread washed over me, pushing me deeper into my seat, as if the fabric could absorb my anxiety.

Nolan strode in like he owned the place, confident and self-assured, snatching the marker from the professor’s desk without so much as a backward glance for permission. His smirk was dangerous, sharp as a knife, and his eyes glinted with amusement as he wrote his name across the board in large, bold strokes: NOLAN CARTER.

The reaction was instantaneous. The girls around us nearly swooned, their whispers rising to a fever pitch. “He’s unbelievable!”

“Did you see how sexy he looks in that shirt?”

“Shipping them is so obvious. They’re perfect together!”

My stomach churned at their eager admiration. It felt like a barrage, and I was caught in the crossfire. The laughter echoed against the walls, oppressive like a weight bearing down on me.

Then his gaze flicked to me—sharp and piercing, a polarizing force that sent yet another jolt of anxiety through my chest.

“And since we’re on the subject of introductions…” he drawled, turning back to the board, his voice smooth and mocking. “I should probably tell you all about my new family.”

My heart sank, the warning bells ringing too loudly for me to tune them out.

“My dear stepmother—Clara’s mother.” His voice dripped with venom, the smirk on his lips curling cruelly. “A woman so talented she managed to seduce my father and land herself in our mansion. What’s the word for that again?” He tapped his chin theatrically, and I felt the flush creep up my neck, my stomach clenching painfully. “Ah, yes. Gold digger.”

The class erupted in murmurs, and I felt the heat of humiliation wash over me, scorching my skin as I wanted to shrink into nothingness. I could almost hear the laughter of the students echoing in the back of my mind like a haunting refrain. My world began to spin, blurred by the cruel remarks and sidelong glances.

“And then there’s Clara,” he continued, swinging his gaze directly at me. “A perfect little copy of her mother. Same eyes.” His own narrowed, insidious satisfaction swirling within. “Same lips. Same… appetite, I’m sure.”

The word hung in the air, dark and suggestive, laden with assumptions I detested. “A whore in the making,” he said, letting the sharpness of it cut through the din of noise.

My entire body burned with humiliation, my anger and frustration boiling just beneath the surface. I could feel Jenna’s hand grip mine tightly under the desk, grounding me as tears stung my eyes, threatening to spill over. “Don’t you dare,” I whispered under my breath.

“That’s enough!” Jenna burst out, glaring at Nolan with all the fire she could muster, her voice full of fierce protectiveness. “What is wrong with you?”

But her words were drowned beneath the waves of laughter, the whispers now a symphony of derision. “She can’t be serious. She’s seriously dating him?”

“Look at her; she’s practically begging for attention,” another voice piped up.