Chapter 1

Layla’s POV

I brought breakfast to Dylan Sterling exactly 1,095 times.

The year his father went to prison, Dylan locked himself in his bedroom for three months straight. He refused to talk. He refused to see a single soul.

I was the one who climbed over his backyard wall every single morning, leaving a warm breakfast on his windowsill.

I’d sit beneath that window, telling terrible dad jokes until my throat went hoarse, refusing to leave until he took a bite.

When he finally walked out of that dark room and started smiling again, everyone said Dylan owed his life to me.

Everyone assumed we were destined to end up together.

Until the night of the Sterling Group Charity Gala.

He took the stage, took the mic, and announced that he was about to introduce the most important person in his life.

Instantly, every pair of eyes in the ballroom turned toward me.

I sat in the third row, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it almost knocked the breath out of me.

I even smoothed down my dress, nervously rehearsing what I’d say when he called my name.

Instead, Dylan stepped off the stage, walked right past my table, and headed straight toward the far side of the ballroom.

He took Chloe Hayes by the hand and led her up the stairs.

"Meet Chloe Hayes. My date for tonight."

The entire room went dead silent.

Three seconds later, whispers exploded across the banquet hall like grease hitting a hot pan.

I sat frozen, my fingers digging into the linen tablecloth until my knuckles turned stark white.

Wearing a wine-red evening gown, Chloe looped her arm through Dylan’s and walked right up to me after they stepped off the stage.

"Layla, please don't take this to heart," Chloe said, keeping her voice just loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear. "Dylan just felt too awkward to reject you in public. After all, you've been chasing him for years."

Her lips formed words of sympathy, but her eyes dripped with pure, unapologetic triumph.

I said nothing. I pushed my chair back and walked away.

Toward the end of the night, I passed through the VIP lounge. Dylan and Chloe were sitting together on the velvet sofa, their heads pressed close over a phone, laughing until their shoulders shook.

Several of Dylan’s business associates were sitting right next to them.

The second Dylan saw me, the smile melted off his face. He leaned back against the cushions.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you one thing," I said. My voice trembled, but I forced my spine to stay straight. "What did that stunt on stage mean?"

Dylan let out a sharp, mocking chuckle and glanced at his friends.

"Can you believe this?" he sneered. "After all this time, she still can't take a hint. Talk about shameless."

The men beside him chuckled in chorus.

The blood drained from my face.

"Word on campus is that you're sleeping with your academic advisor," Dylan said, casually swirling the whiskey in his glass. "I didn't believe it at first. But seeing how desperate you cling to people, maybe the rumors are true."

Chloe lightly tugged at his sleeve, putting on a show of gentle restraint. "Dylan, stop. That's too harsh."

"Did I say anything wrong?" Dylan stared straight into my eyes. "One thousand and ninety-five breakfasts. You actually thought that entitled you to my heart? Let me make one thing clear: that kiss back then? I was wasted. I thought you were someone else."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Chloe’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Chloe is my girlfriend."

I stood there, feeling as though every drop of blood had been drained from my body.

When the gala wrapped up, Dylan didn't spare me a single glance.

Back in my hotel room, a vicious stomach ache hit me. I hadn't eaten all night. I curled up under the sheets, shivering in pain.

Then came a knock at the door.

Thinking it was room service, I pulled the door open. Dylan stood in the hallway, holding a box of caramel pudding.

"Stomach hurts?" His tone was unexpectedly soft. He stepped inside, placed the pudding on the nightstand, and lifted a spoonful to my lips. "Eat something sweet. It'll settle your stomach."

I looked up at him, my vision blurring with tears.

"He still cares," I thought. "Somewhere deep down, he still cares."

I opened my mouth. The pudding was sickeningly sweet.

Watching me swallow the last bite, Dylan suddenly grinned.

"Tastes good?" he asked. "There’s a little extra something in it."

My mind went blank.

The door swung wider, and Chloe strolled in, twirling an empty paper packet between her manicured fingers.

"High-dose laxatives," Chloe chuckled. "Dylan asked me to mix it in. He said you’ve been looking a little bloated lately."

Dylan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and looking down at me like I was dirt beneath his shoes.

"I could feed her poison," he said casually, "and she’d swallow it down thinking it was candy."

The next morning was the university final exam.

I spent the entire dawn chained to the bathroom, losing four pounds in a single morning.

When the last exam bell rang, I braced my trembling hands against the corridor wall. The world spun black, and I collapsed onto the cold linoleum floor.

Through my fading consciousness, I caught a glimpse of Dylan standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Pathetic," he muttered.