Sorry Boys, You're On Payroll
I was halfway through a sad cafeteria lunch when a livestream popped up:
[Ring toss—whoever lands it gets the dog.]
Onscreen, Alverton University's rich-boy squad cracked up, betting on who'd "own" me.
Adrian Locke, the student council golden boy, flicked his ring. It landed dead center on my nameplate.
"One month. Let's see which owner the little bitch wags her tail for."
I closed the stream.
Right then, a text from my dad lit up my phone:
[Sweetheart, have you chosen your fiancé candidate?]
I smirked, snapped a screenshot of the stream, and sent it.
[Evaluation complete. All four disqualified.]