The Billionaire's Good girl. Not.

Excellent. From this point on, we'll write Legacy of Crime l

"Sometimes, life doesn't destroy you with a storm. Sometimes, it smiles at you first."

The loud ringing of my alarm clock shattered the peaceful silence of my bedroom.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my face.

"Five more minutes," I muttered.

The alarm, however, had no intention of negotiating.

It rang again.

And again.

Finally, I stretched out my hand and slammed it off.

The room fell silent.

I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, letting reality sink in.

One week.

Just one week.

One week until prom.

One week until graduation.

One week until I officially became a high school graduate.

A smile crept across my lips.

Four years of sleepless nights...

Four years of assignments...

Four years of chasing perfection...

It had all led to this moment.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Vee?"

Only one person called me that.

"My door's open, Mom."

The door swung open, revealing my mother, Evelyn Clarke, dressed elegantly despite it being barely seven in the morning.

She leaned against the doorframe with a warm smile.

"You've been smiling since you woke up."

"I can't help it."

She chuckled.

"I know."

She walked over and brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face.

"My baby is graduating."

I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Mom..."

"Don't 'Mom' me."

She pinched my cheek.

"I still remember carrying you into kindergarten because you refused to let go of my dress."

"I was four."

"You were dramatic."

"I was emotional."

She laughed.

"I'll accept that."

Downstairs, a familiar deep voice echoed through the house.

"Evelyn!"

"If you don't come now, I'll eat breakfast without both of you."

Dad.

Mom shook her head.

"See?"

"I married the most impatient man in New York."

I laughed as we made our way downstairs.

Dad was already seated at the dining table, dressed in one of his expensive charcoal-gray suits.

Even at home, Richard Clarke looked every bit the successful businessman.

He glanced up from his newspaper.

"Finally."

"I was beginning to think Yale had already admitted you and you moved into the dorm overnight."

I smiled.

"Still waiting for the admission letter."

"You'll get it."

His confidence never wavered.

"I've never met anyone who works harder than you."

Those words meant everything coming from him.

Growing up, Dad had always taught me that success wasn't inherited.

It was earned.

He owned one of the largest media companies in New York, yet he never allowed me to rely on his influence.

"If you want something," he'd always say, "earn it."

And I had.

Or at least, I hoped I had.

Breakfast was unusually cheerful.

Mom talked endlessly about prom dresses.

Dad teased me about giving the longest valedictorian speech in Birkin High history.

"I'll be asleep by the third paragraph," he joked.

"You'll stay awake."

"What if it's boring?"

"It won't be."

"We'll see."

"You have no choice."

He raised both hands dramatically.

"I surrender."

The three of us laughed together.

Looking back...

If someone had told me this breakfast would become one of my happiest memories...

I would've stayed at that table forever.

Birkin High School looked different that morning.

Students weren't rushing to class.

They weren't buried in textbooks.

Instead, excitement buzzed through every hallway.

Clusters of seniors gathered around colorful posters announcing:

PROM COUNTDOWN – 7 DAYS TO GO

Someone had already started arguing over who would be crowned Prom King and Queen.

Others compared dress designs and tuxedo colors.

The entire campus felt alive.

As soon as I stepped through the front gate, someone wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"There she is!"

Vine Blake.

"My future Yale roommate."

I laughed.

"You've already accepted me into Yale before Yale has."

"Details."

She waved dismissively.

"You're getting in."

A second later, Vicar appeared carrying two cups of coffee.

"Morning, genius."

"Morning."

He handed me one.

"I got your favorite."

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

He shrugged.

"I wanted to."

Behind him came Daryl Elm, balancing an impossible stack of books.

"Can someone explain," he complained dramatically, "why teachers still think homework matters one week before graduation?"

"Because they enjoy your suffering," Vine answered.

"I knew it."

We burst into laughter.

This...

This was my world.

My people.

My family beyond blood.

Nothing could have convinced me that our lives were about to change forever.

The school bell rang.

Students poured into the massive auditorium.

Blue and gold banners—the school colors—hung proudly from the ceiling.

A giant sign stretched across the stage.

WELCOME TO GRADUATION WEEK

The chatter was almost deafening.

Everyone was talking at once.

Teachers struggled to restore order.

Eventually, Principal Augustine stepped onto the stage.

He adjusted the microphone.

"Good morning, Birkin High."

"Good morning, Principal Augustine!" hundreds of voices answered.

He smiled.

"I'll keep this brief because I know none of you are interested in listening to an old man."

Laughter rippled across the hall.

"So..."

He opened a gold envelope.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

"It is officially one week until Prom Night..."

He paused dramatically.

"...and graduation."

The auditorium erupted.

Students jumped from their seats.

Some screamed.

Others hugged their friends.

The excitement was contagious.

Principal Augustine waited patiently before continuing.

"I am also pleased to announce this year's official prom theme."

He smiled.

"A Night Beneath the Stars."

The room exploded again.

Vine grabbed my arm.

"Oh my gosh!"

"This is going to be perfect!"

"I know."

"I already have a hundred dress ideas."

"You had a hundred dress ideas yesterday."

"Now I have two hundred."

I couldn't stop laughing.

Principal Augustine raised a hand.

"And now..."

"The question everyone has been asking."

Instant silence.

"Who will be crowned this year's Prom King and Queen?"

Names immediately echoed throughout the auditorium.

"Vine!"

"Pius!"

"Jason!"

"Avillah!"

I buried my face in my hands.

"Not again..."

Daryl nudged me.

"Get used to it, Miss Popular."

"I'm not popular."

"You literally have half the school shouting your name."

"They're just being nice."

"They're being loud," Vicar corrected.

Before anyone could say another word, Principal Augustine cleared his throat again.

His smile faded.

He looked down at a small note that had just been handed to him by one of the office staff.

For a split second...

Something unreadable crossed his face.

He slowly lifted the microphone.

"Miss Avillah Clarke..."

Every conversation stopped.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Please report to my office."

He looked directly at me.

"...Immediately."

Hundreds of students turned to stare.

Even my friends looked confused.

Vine leaned closer.

"What did you do?"

"I don't know."

For the first time that morning...

A strange feeling settled in my chest.

I stood up slowly.

As I walked toward the auditorium doors, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.

I didn't know it yet...

But behind Principal Augustine's office door, a visitor was already waiting for me.

A man in an expensive black suit.

A man whose name would become permanently tied to mine.

Joel Boston.