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Step into sin…. Behind closed doors, desire has no rules. The forbidden stepfather who can’t keep his hands to himself. The older man who teaches her lessons no classroom ever could. The roommate whose touch ignites something neither of them can name. The rival who becomes the one person she can’t stop wanting. This is college, but not the way anyone warned you about. Welcome to the darkest, wettest, most sinfully intoxicating collection of desires you’ve ever read. These aren’t love stories. They’re hunger stories. And once you start, you won’t stop until you’re completely undone. Drip. By. Drip.

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Just how far will you go trying to reach that goal of yours? Were you able to betray your friends- even though you don't sound like the one who would do such a thing? Hungry for achievement and praises, Lily Jenkins accepts an offer from a very successful school. The greed and cravings made her do things she shouldn't do, which her guilt will attack her later. Will she allow a headmaster to knit her fate? Or try to rely on her friends even they are not that trustworthy?

The Scholarship Girl. She earned her place. They remind her every day that she doesn’t belong. Elora Brown fought her way into St. Jude’s Elite Academy — a world built for money, power, and names that open doors. Hers does neither. Then there’s Julian Anderson. The mayor’s son. The school’s golden boy. Untouchable… and unbearable. Their first meeting? He shoved her aside like she was nothing. The second? He used her brilliance — and dismissed her just as easily. Elora didn’t come here to make enemies. But Julian seems determined to be one. Because in a school where status is everything… she’s the one person who refuses to bow. And somehow, that makes her impossible for him to ignore. But some scholarships come with more than pressure. This one? Might come with a war she never signed up for… and a boy she might not be able to stay away from.

I suffered from a skin condition. I scratched myself in the library, and millions of netizens spammed my private inbox. Only then did I find out that a girl accused me of harassing her. I took out my diagnostic report to defend my innocence, but the girl cried pitifully. “You really know how to make an excuse for yourself! How could someone innocent like me frame you?” Even my elder brother spoke up for her! “Why would she frame you of all people? Can’t you take a look at yourself?” I could not bear the cyberbullying, and I died from a sudden heart attack the day before the court hearing. My grandfather could not accept my death, and he collapsed into a coma. My parents cut off ties with my brother before they committed suicide at home. Meanwhile, the girl did not just successfully make her way into graduate school, but she also dug open my grave and used my ashes to make fireworks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when she had asked me to reserve a seat in the library.

Ever since I was little, my dad taught me that no matter what happened, I should put my studies and exams as my top priority. When I was eight, I accidentally broke my leg during gym class, but my dad insisted that I finish that day’s class before taking me to get it treated. When the doctor said I was brought in too late and would have to be hospitalized, my dad looked troubled. “Third grade is a crucial transition period in elementary school. My child absolutely cannot waste any time right now!” So, I went to school in a wheelchair during the day and returned to my hospital room at night to finish my homework. When I was discharged, I was left with a lasting condition. Ever since then, I walked with a slight limp. When I was eleven, I ran a high fever of 102 degrees and started babbling incoherently. But my dad took forever to arrive. The teacher was so anxious that she took me to the hospital first, only to be berated by my dad when he finally showed up. “The transition from elementary to middle school is a critical moment for a child’s future. If my son, Teleus Costa, misses these three classes, just think how far behind the other kids he’ll fall!” Even though I had not fully recovered, my dad sent me back to school the very next day. From then on, I suffered from severe myocarditis. At seventeen, I developed a serious heart condition that put me at risk of sudden death at any moment. But my dad insisted I wait until after the SATs to seek treatment. “The SATs are the pivotal moment that determines your future. Missing even one class at such a time is tantamount to suicide!” One night during evening study hall, my heart seized up again, and I stumbled down the stairs. Lying in a pool of blood, I mustered my last ounce of strength to press the emergency contact button on my smartwatch to call for help. But on the other end, I heard my father’s voice. “There’s still one more session of evening study hall left. Can’t you just hang in there until it’s over?” ‘Dad, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could make it,’ I thought.