"You're so selfish. No wonder even your father hates you."
His words were poisoned needles, burying themselves in my heart. I didn't cry. I just stared at him, numb. The man who'd sworn to protect me was now using my deepest wounds to tear me apart.
Paul frowned at my silence, turned on his heel, and left.
After that, he began appearing publicly with Anna. When asked about their relationship, she'd smile shyly while Paul answered openly.
"I like her."
"We're together."
I withered, watching her dismantle my world piece by piece. She flooded my phone with photos of their dates, flaunting the gifts he'd chosen for her.
Serena Whitmore, you really are trash.
No matter what you want, I won't let you have it.
I read those messages over and over. Self-inflicted torture.
After graduation, Paul formally proposed dissolving our engagement.
"I was too young back then," he said coldly. "I've realized the one I love is Annie."
I didn't fight him. I numbly agreed. There's no point keeping a man whose heart belongs to someone else.
But fate—or a cruel scheme—intervened.
That very night, we were both drugged and locked in a hotel room. We woke up naked, disoriented, blinded by flashlights and camera flashes.