My Roommate Rented Out My Bed,So I Revoked Her Scholarship

I'd been away from the dorm for one month. That was all it took for my roommate to start renting out my bed to strangers at thirty dollars a night.

My toiletries, my sheets, my comforter, even candid photos of me taken without my knowledge, all of it bundled up and listed on eBay at bargain prices.

I was famous now, apparently. The whole campus knew me by a single label: the thirty-dollar-a-night gold-digger.

I came back furious, ready for a fight, and the only thing I got was a question tossed at me like I was the one who owed an explanation.

You spend every night out there hooking up with men and selling yourself, and you still have the nerve to sleep here? We don't want to catch whatever you've got.

I stared at them, baffled, and my roommate shoved a photo into my face. Taken yesterday, right after class.

In it, I was stepping out of a luxury car with a smile on my face. Behind me, still seated in the back, was the blurred figure of a middle-aged man.

You really will do anything for money, won't you? Latching onto some greasy sugar daddy like that.

And with that, she upended an entire bucket of kitchen slop onto my bed.

I was so angry I laughed.

My gaze dropped to the name badge pinned to her chest, and I went still.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the greasy middle-aged man in the photo.

Dad, cancel the scholarship our family's been funding for the past ten years.

I gripped my phone tight, my eyes sharp as I looked back at them.

Tamara Cooley's mockery didn't let up.

Who would've guessed? You look so innocent, but behind closed doors you're a total slut.

Someone as talented as you? This dorm's way too small for a big shot like you.

Tamara stroked the Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet on her wrist, sneering down at me.

That was when I actually looked at her. Head to toe, she was dripping in designer labels. A Chanel dress. An Herms bag.

My brow furrowed.

I knew my father had devoted himself to philanthropy for years. He'd even established a dedicated charitable foundation through the school, pouring serious money into scholarships for kids who couldn't afford an education.

Tamara Cooley was one of those kids. A girl pulled out of poverty on a scholarship from the mountains.

I hadn't remembered her name before. It was only when I saw the scholarship badge on her chest that I realized she was the student my father had been sponsoring all along.

Our family had funded her for a full decade. Even after she'd gotten into college, we kept her scholarship active.

Every month, a generous stipend hit her account.

But she'd only been enrolled for half a year. Where was all the luxury coming from?

She must have noticed the way I was looking at her, because Tamara arched a brow, preening.

I'm nothing like you. Sure, I'm on a scholarship now, but my boyfriend happens to be the richest man in the city. He's the one who's been paying for everything.

We actually have a real relationship. He told me he'll marry me after I graduate. Not like you, playing mistress on the side.

The words hit me and I froze where I stood.

My mind went blank.

Then something sharp clawed its way out of my throat.

You're saying the man who sponsors you is going to marry you?

That was impossible. My mother had been gone for years, but I had seen with my own eyes how deep my father's love for her ran.

Every year on the anniversary of her death, he would spend an entire month at the temple, praying for her, hoping she was at peace wherever she was.

Relatives had urged him to remarry. He'd refused every time, swearing he would never take another wife.

Doubt crept in anyway, cold and unwelcome, and I fought it.

But the next second Tamara held her phone right up to my face, chat logs open, and everything I believed cracked apart.

Every illusion, shattered.

The screen was full of it. Baby and love you and all the nauseating pet names in between.

The location pin pointed straight to my family's gated community. The living room in the photos, the climbing roses by the front door, they were identical to mine.

A roar filled my ears, drowning out everything else.

My eyes went wide. The hand gripping my phone had started to tremble.

Because the WhatsApp profile picture was unmistakably my father's.

A nameless fury surged from somewhere deep in my chest, shooting straight to the top of my skull.

I pulled up his contact and called him, ready to demand an explanation.

The line wouldn't connect.

I paced in place, stomping my foot, my breathing turning shallow and fast.

I was about to give up.

Then I heard it: a rapid-fire string of notification chimes from Tamara's phone.

My gaze landed on that familiar profile picture, and my whole body locked up.

My heart dropped straight through the floor.

My boyfriend literally can't go a second without me.

Leaning past her shoulder, I saw a screen full of sweet nothings and a voice message over twenty seconds long.

Underneath the fury, a quiet doubt started to gnaw at me.

In all these years, my father had never once ignored my calls unless he was in an emergency meeting. Even if he really did have something going on with my roommate, he wouldn't deliberately leave me hanging.

And my father had never been the type to sweet-talk anyone.

Back when my mother was alive, she used to tease him for being the worst with words.

Unless the man chatting with Tamarahad stolen my father's identity.

The fire in my chest cooled, replaced inch by inch with something cold.

I looked at Tamara, my expression unreadable.

She tipped her chin up, face glowing with smug satisfaction, practically preening.

My boyfriend said if you don't move out of this dorm, next time it won't just be a campus-wide disciplinary notice.

So if you know what's good for you, pack your crap and get lost.

I stared at that self-satisfied face and let out a cold laugh before I could stop it.

I walked toward her, slow and unhurried, every step deliberate.

And you're absolutely sure the person you've been chatting with is a billionaire and not a fraud?

My other roommate, Kate Pruitt, cut in with a sneer.

What, just because you had to sell yourself to land a sugar daddy, you think Tamara's the same kind of trash?

I didn't bother responding to her. My eyes stayed fixed on Tamara.

I kept my voice light, almost offhand.

So has he actually taken you to that mansion yet?

The contempt in Tamara's eyes only thickened.

My baby told me that's going to be our house after the wedding. He wants to keep it a surprise. Someone like you wouldn't get the chance to see a place like that in your entire life.

I'm about to become the richest man's wife, so I suggest you do as you're told. Otherwise I'll make sure you can't survive a single day on this campus.

I had no intention of arguing with them any further. In less than a month, I'd be leaving for the University of London.

I shrugged, indifferent. I'd given her the warning. What she did with it was her problem.

I turned and headed for the door.

But as I passed the desk, my pupils contracted sharply.

Sitting on the surface was a crisp, untouched study-abroad application with my name printed clearly across the top.

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

I had submitted this application to my advisor just yesterday. How was it here, in the dorm?

And yesterday had been the final deadline.

I snatched the application off the desk and flung it in Tamara's face

You intercepted my study-abroad application?

Tamara had been trimming her eyebrows with a razor, slow and leisurely. My outburst made her pause, annoyance flickering across her face.

A gold-digger like you thinks she can use her dirty money to study abroad? Dream on.

All we did was tell the advisor about your little gold-digging career. She's the one who sent it back. And the campus-wide disciplinary notice? That should be coming down any day now.

You're about to be famous.

Something inside me snapped. Every last thread of restraint burned away, and before I could think, I stepped forward and slapped Tamara across the face.

The crack echoed through the dorm room.

A welt rose on Tamara's cheek almost instantly. Her teeth clenched, her expression twisting into something feral.

You have a death wish, Yvette? My boyfriend could make you disappear from this school with a single phone call.

I let a slow, calm smile touch my lips.

Then I'll be watching.

The moment I walked away, I texted Lambert Mason.

Freeze Tamara Cooley's supplementary credit card. And stop all future sponsorship payments to her.

You could pour a lifetime of kindness into an ungrateful person and never tame them. So I'd simply take back what was never hers to begin with.

I ignored them after that and left the dorm alone.

I drew a long breath.

The school ran on my family's funding anyway. Worst case, I'd just get reassigned to a different room.

I called our family's attorney next and sent him the audio I'd recorded in the dorm.

A malicious defamation charge would be more than enough to ruin the rest of Tamara Cooley's life.

I wasn't going to let them take one more thing from me.

I started down the stairs, one step at a time.

My hand drifted to my wrist out of habit, reaching for my jade bracelet. My fingers closed around bare skin.

I stopped dead. My heart stuttered.

That bracelet was the last thing my mother left me before she died.

I must have taken it off in the rush and left it in the room.

Cold sweat beaded along my hairline, and a sick, frantic heat spread through my chest.

I turned and ran back up the stairs, back to the dorm, reaching for the handle.

The door was already locked from the inside.

Tamara, open the door! I left something in there!

Muffled, contemptuous laughter seeped through the door.

Oh, so much for your pride. You lasted what, three minutes? Already crawling back to make nice? You were pretty tough when you hit me. Too late now.

Born spineless. No wonder older men love her.

Then a video call from Tamara lit up my screen.

She was standing on my bed, shoes and all, her eyes glinting like a snake sizing up prey.

Get on your knees and knock your forehead on the ground a hundred times within five minutes. Then maybe I'll think about letting you in to apologize.

I didn't hesitate for a second. I hung up.

I went downstairs and found the RA.

When the door was forced open, Tamara let out a shriek.

She was on a voice call with her boyfriend, cooing baby into the phone between every other word.

I didn't spare her a glance. I just started searching, frantic, tearing through every corner for my bracelet.

A fist closed around my hair from behind and yanked. Before I could brace myself, I was shoved hard and sent sprawling to the floor.

My knees cracked against the concrete, white-hot pain searing up my legs.

I didn't look up. I stayed low, eyes locked on the ground, scanning desperately, every nerve screaming to find what my mother had left me.

I searched the entire room by touch, every surface, every gap. Nothing.

Tamara clicked her tongue, savoring the moment.

You wouldn't happen to be looking for this, would you?

I raised my head, stiff, slow.

A deep, luminous green bracelet sat quietly on Tamara's wrist.

I drew a breath and forced my voice level.

Who told you you could touch my things?

A bracelet this nice? Don't tell me that old man of yours bought it for you. Could he even afford it? Probably fake.

I clenched my jaw and lunged for it.

Tamara jerked her arm up high, dangling my mother's bracelet over the hard floor as if she'd let go any second.

I froze. My eyes burned until the edges of my vision went red.

Don't you dare!

Tamara had the bracelet dangling from one finger, swinging it like it meant nothing.

You're this precious about some cheap bracelet? How many nights did you have to sleep with him to get it?

You want it back? Fine. From now on you treat me with respect. And I want you to admit, out loud, that you're being kept by some old man. Then get on your knees and knock your head on the floor a hundred times. Do all that, and it's yours. Sound fair?

One kowtow, and I lower it one centimeter.

Her voice dripped with satisfaction.

The way she looked at me was the way someone looks at a stray dog whose food just got snatched away.

The sheer arrogance of it made me laugh out of pure rage.

I'd been raised in the palm of my father's hand my entire life. I'd never lifted a heavy thing, never gone without, and I had never been humiliated like this.

If I wanted, the whole school could be mine.

Why the hell would I bow my head to the person who fabricated explicit photos of me?

Instead of kneeling, I closed the distance between us, step by step.

I reached for the bracelet, but she saw it coming and kicked me square in the knee.

The same knee she'd already hurt. Pain shot through my leg and my face twisted.

I held back my fury and the urge to strike her, terrified she'd drop the bracelet.

My voice went cold.

Tamara, are you sure you want to do this? Let me make something clear. My father funds this school. You're one of the scholarship students he sponsors. If I kneel to you today, you won't set foot on this campus tomorrow.

The room went quiet for two seconds.

Then they burst out laughing.

Did I hear that right? A whore trying to act tough? If your dad's a school board chairman, then I'm your grandchild.

Don't bother with her, Tamara. She probably wants to pawn the bracelet to treat whatever diseases she's carrying.

Tamara lifted the jade bracelet again. This time she tossed it into the air.

My eyes went red instantly. Veins stood out along my neck.

This was the last thing my mother ever left me. I couldn't watch it shatter.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to step back.

I'll apologize. I'm sorry. I'll be respectful from now on. Is that enough?

She curled her lip, unimpressed.

Strip. Record a video of yourself naked as a guarantee. Otherwise, how do I know you're sincere?

My head snapped up. My voice came out raw.

Don't push it.

Tamara grabbed both my arms and locked them behind me. She'd grown up doing farmwork, and the strength in her grip was brutal. I couldn't break free.

I couldn't move.

Kate stepped forward and ripped my shirt open, baring a wide stretch of skin.

You love selling yourself so much, right? Let's film a little promo and drum up some business for you.

She manhandled me like a ragdoll. Every ounce of strength had drained from my body.

Ice settled behind my eyes.

If you touch me, my father will destroy you.

Tamara pulled out my phone, opened the camera, and switched to video. Her thumb hovered over the record button.

One second before she pressed it, the door exploded inward.

Stop!

Tears clung to my lashes as I looked up.

My father, who was supposed to be at the office, came charging through the doorway.

One sweep of his arm sent Tamara and Kate sprawling to the floor. He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

Evie, are you all right? I'm taking you home. Right now.

He stood back up, walked toward Tamara, and crushed the phone on the floor under his heel.

The color drained from Tamara's face.

That phone was a limited edition my boyfriend just bought me. Can you even afford to replace it?

She looked my father up and down, and her face lit up like she'd just cracked a code.

So you're the old man keeping Yvette as his sugar baby, huh? Playing hero now? Just wait till I tell my boyfriend. He'll make both of you pay!

My father's gaze drifted down to the name badge pinned to Tamara's chest. His brow furrowed slightly.

So you're the girl who came out of the mountains. In that case, perhaps it's time you went back.

His words drew a sharp laugh out of Tamara.

Cut the act. My boyfriend is the richest man in the city AND the school board chairman. Who do you think you are to expel me?

And with that, she lifted the jade bracelet high and slammed it against the floor in front of everyone.

It shattered into pieces.

The breath left my lungs. Hatred flooded my chest until there was no room for anything else.

Even my father's eyes flashed with something dangerous.

But Tamara didn't notice. She was too busy gloating.

Watch me call my boyfriend over here to set you both straight!

She whipped out her phone and dialed.

Two seconds later.

A ringtone cut through the dorm room.

Tamara's head snapped toward the sound.

A man in a chauffeur's uniform stood behind my father, rigid, not daring to make a sound.

The moment Tamara recognized that face, she froze solid.