The Alpha Queen

"Andrea, If you can get that loser to drink from the same bottle you did, I'll date you."

I blinked.

Henry Rummell stood there, one eyebrow raised, that smug smile already loading another hit.

The rich kids around us jumped in.

"Come on, Andrea! You've been after Henry forever—he's finally saying yes!"

"I'm so over that Noah guy. Straight A's don't make him better than us."

"Let him grind all he wants—he'll be fetching our coffee in ten years."

Their laughter felt like a vice around my lungs. Couldn't breathe.

Henry and I grew up in the same ritzy neighborhood. The rest of them? D.C. nepo brats with last names that opened doors.

Bullying was their group sport. I never joined, but I never stopped it either.

Pissing them off could tank my dad's business, and I used to think staying quiet was enough.

In my last life, I finally confessed to Henry. His response? If I got Noah Novak to drink from a bottle I'd already used, he'd date me.

It felt wrong. But I was sixteen. And stupid. And in love.

So yeah, I did it.

To quiet the guilt, I slipped Noah a thousand bucks.

He took the cash, drank the water, and from then on? Wouldn't even look at me. Just kept his head down like I didn't exist.

I didn't care. I was too wrapped up in Henry.

After college, everything crashed.

Dad's company tanked—he jumped off a building. Mom got cancer.

Henry? He cheated, made me get an abortion, then tossed me out.

A degree no one cared about and zero real skills. I ended up scrubbing floors at some club just to keep Mom's treatments going.

"Don't say I'm heartless," Henry would sneer. "My girl wants a laugh. Bark like a dog, Andrea. I'll toss you two hundred."

Every time he had a new girl, he pulled the same twisted stunt.

His crew came to watch. Even Peggy—my ex-best friend—joined in.

"Princess Andrea, shine my shoes. On your knees. Twenty bucks."

"I'm gonna puke. Catch it with your hands and I'll give you a hundred."

I used to wonder how people lived on fifty bucks a day.

Then I started living it. Swallowing my pride, blinking back tears, and smiling through gritted teeth.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, ma'am."

Dignity?

Doesn't pay for chemo.

When they started egging me on to strip, Noah walked in. Took me out of there.

Sharp suit. Quiet power.

I couldn't even lift my head. Just stared at his polished shoes, watching my wrecked reflection in the floor.

I thought he came to humiliate me.

But he didn't.

He paid for my mom's treatment and told me to stop crying.

How was I supposed to hold it in?

That same day, after he covered the bill, my mom—thinking she was just a burden—took her own life.

Dad was gone.

Now Mom, too.

I had no one.

Noah kept me close and said, "I'll be your family now."

When I told him I wanted to rebuild my dad's company, he backed me—no hesitation. Time, money, everything. Anytime I hit a wall, he was already there.

He was brilliant, patient, kind in ways I'd never known.

Falling for him? Easy.

But just when I was ready to tell him, he said, "I don't ever plan on getting married."

He said it like it was no big deal.

I felt... stupid. Embarrassed. Maybe even ashamed.

Because the man he'd become?

I didn't deserve him.

Noah worked himself into the ground. Right after his company went public—boom. Late-stage liver cancer.

He hated hospitals. Moved into a riverside villa instead.

I tried to stay, but he shoved me away. Said awful things, just to make me go.

I left. But he was miserable without me.

So I came back. "Don't send me away, Noah," I begged.

He was all bones, too weak to move. First thing he did? Cover my eyes.

"Don't look at me," he whispered. "I'm ugly."

I still couldn't stay.

Never even got to say goodbye.

His lawyer told me later—Noah left everything to me.

But I didn't care about the money. I just wanted him to live.

I dragged myself up Mount Calvary Church's steps, where people said prayers came true.

Dropped to my knees. Begged God to give Noah peace. Maybe even a better life next time.

I didn't expect that walking back down...

I'd get hit by a car—

And wake up in senior year.