Three days after I was kidnapped, they drugged me—something vicious, something that burned through every nerve. Clyde Gilbert, Sterling City's untouchable golden boy, showed up just in time.

He gave me his body as the cure, one hand gripping the back of my head, his voice wrecked:

"Deidre, I'll take responsibility. Once we're out of here, I'm marrying you."

After that night, Clyde really did propose—big, public, impossible to miss.

And right behind it came a video, humiliating and explicit, shot straight to the top of the trending list.

The slut-shaming hit like a wall. Thousands of strangers tearing me apart online, and I couldn't breathe through any of it. I went looking for Clyde, half out of my mind,

and walked in on him pressing a slender girl against the garden wall, his lips at her ear.

Her eyes had gone red with hurt:

"Do you actually have feelings for Deidre Morton? The whole circle is saying you're marrying her. If your heart's changed, just tell me—I'll let you go."

Clyde scoffed. "Don't be stupid. Victoria, the only person I've ever wanted to marry is you."

"Then what about the proposal? And those videos everywhere?"

He smiled, dismissive.

"Obviously—I needed a slut like her to make you look good by comparison."

"Those videos? I set that up. I fed them to the media myself. All of it was to prop up your pure sweetheart persona."

"My parents won't let you through the door, right? But once they find out I'm about to marry trash like Deidre Morton, the comparison alone will make them accept you."

I stood frozen where I was, ice spreading through every limb.

So from the very beginning, I had only ever been the foil for his idealized first love.

But I'm Deidre Morton. Nobody made me to be stepped on.

——

I stayed behind the hedgerow in the garden,

chest slamming against my ribs, every gulp of air coming up short no matter how hard I tried.

Clyde's voice kept cutting into me like a blade.

"Victoria, you know why I picked her?"

"Deidre Morton—big tits, no brain. Dangle anything shiny and she'll chase it. I barely had to try before she actually believed I was going to marry her. Moved to tears like a complete idiot."

He pulled out his phone, scrolled through something, and handed it to Victoria with a grin.

"Look at the comments under those videos. They're calling her the biggest slut in Sterling City—no shame, throws herself at any man who'll have her."

"Now look at your comment section. Nothing but praise for how clean and pure you are, a lotus untouched by mud. Isn't that exactly what I wanted?"

Nausea churned up from the pit of my stomach.

I bowed my head, eyes falling to the delicate diamond bracelet on my wrist, and unclasped it without a second thought.

Two hours ago, Clyde had fastened it on me himself.

A proposal gift, he'd called it. He'd gone down on one knee to give it to me, his voice and his expression so reverent.

Anyone watching would have sworn he was desperately in love with me.

Funny—with skills like that, he was the one who deserved an award in the entertainment industry.

I forced the tears back, clenching the bracelet so tight the links bit into my palm.

From inside the garden, their voices drifted over again.

"So when are you going to tell her the truth?"

Victoria's voice was thick with grievance. "The backlash online is already at full boil. She's being torn apart. Are you really going to keep this up?"

"No rush."

Clyde ruffled Victoria's hair, indulgent.

"My mother hasn't completely softened up yet. Let Deidre keep playing her part a little longer—once my parents fully accept you, I'll toss her."

"By then her reputation will be in the gutter, and my parents will cut their losses for the sake of the family name. You marrying into the Gilbert family will just fall into place."

"But..."

Victoria bit her lip, voice dripping with tender concern. "Poor Deidre, though. She doesn't have the faintest idea what's really happening to her."

Clyde let out a cold scoff, then reached over and tapped the tip of Victoria's nose.

A single laugh, dripping with the kind of contempt that made your skin crawl.

"Our Victoria, always so kindhearted."

"Deidre Morton? She's nobody. Some random model from some backwater town who spent three years scratching around Sterling City's elite circle without a single thing to show for it."

"If I hadn't picked her, she'd still be in some back-alley booth pouring drinks and kissing up to people, trying to claw her way into the industry. I gave her resources. I gave her the title and the spotlight of being my girlfriend. She should be on her knees thanking me."

I stumbled back two steps, heart pounding, and a thorn sank into my finger—and just like that I was back in that dim basement three days ago, the drug already dragging me under.

I had bitten down on my lip until it split, even ripped off a fingernail, telling myself that if those animals came through the door, I'd take them down with me.

Then Clyde had burst through the door like a hero out of a story, larger than life, the man who would save me from anything.

His bodyguards pinned the kidnappers to the ground.

He slipped off his jacket and settled it over my shoulders, and when I swayed into him, barely conscious, he quietly sent everyone out and had the door closed behind them.

He held me. His voice was raw. "Deidre, I'll take responsibility for you. The moment we're out of here, I'm marrying you."

Back then, I had secretly thanked fate.

I'd even convinced myself that everything—the kidnapping, the drugs—was destiny forcing me into Clyde Gilbert's arms, and that made it all worth it.

Now I knew how ridiculous that sounded.

A few seconds of silence in the garden. Then Victoria rose on her toes and pressed her lips to Clyde's.

"But I'm really scared. I'm scared you'll play the part so long it stops being an act."

She pouted, eyes rimmed red, the picture of fragile helplessness—the kind designed to make a man fold.

"Deidre really is pretty. Great figure, too. I keep seeing people online saying she's more beautiful than me."

Clyde laughed and pinched her cheek, his voice dropping into the indulgent tone you'd use to coax a child.

"Victoria, no one even comes close to you. Once I deal with my parents, I'm marrying you. Immediately."

"In this lifetime, I will never marry anyone but you."

"Then swear it." She wouldn't let it go.

He smiled, that same doting warmth.

"I swear: if I, Clyde Gilbert, ever marry Deidre Morton in this life, let heaven strike me dead."

Victoria was finally satisfied. She kissed his face, once, twice, three times.

A short while later, Clyde pulled out his phone and made a call.

"Hey, Director Lambert. It's me."

"Looked over the promo plan for Victoria's drama. Next three rounds of talking points are fine. But for Deidre—push another wave onto the trending list. Tomorrow morning."

"Already got the headline: 'Deidre Morton's Escort Scandal.' Yeah, those photos we took at the club. Pick the worst angles. The more damning she looks, the better."

He paused. Then laughed.

"She won't suspect a thing. Don't worry about it."

The voice on the other end said something.

Clyde laughed again, clearly in high spirits, then added one more thing.

"Oh—the kidnapping. That all cleaned up?"

"Keep those guys' mouths shut tight. Nobody finds out I arranged it. Not that a fool like Deidre could ever dig that deep, but better safe than sorry."

Everything went still.

The kidnapping. He arranged that too.

Part of me had already suspected it was Clyde's handiwork, but hearing him say it himself—casually, like he was checking off a list—something in my chest caved in, and I couldn't breathe.

They kept me in that pitch-black basement for three days and three nights. Pumped me full of some brutal aphrodisiac, left me screaming into nothing, and nobody came.

I'd told myself it was random—some enemy who grabbed the wrong person, a case of mistaken identity.

But Clyde Gilbert had been pulling the strings from the very beginning.

To him, I was just the ugly backdrop that made his idealized first love look even more radiant. A foil.

A tool.

A piece of trash to be used up and thrown away.

I spun around to run,

but my knee buckled and I stumbled back a step without meaning to.

A dry branch snapped under my foot.

Both of them turned at the same time.

Victoria's face went bone-white. She shrank behind Clyde on instinct. "What do we do? She heard everything we just said..."

Clyde's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto me. "Deidre. Come out."

I straightened my spine and stepped out from behind the hedgerow.

Three people facing off under the moonlight. The air between us was eerily still.

"You heard all of that?"

A slight crease between his brows. His voice perfectly calm.

I looked at him and laughed.

It must have been an ugly laugh—I could feel the tears forcing their way up, burning behind my eyes—but I choked them back with everything I had.

"Every word."

Victoria glanced at my face, then at Clyde, biting her lip.

"Clyde... she's the one you're with. I'm the one who shouldn't be here. Maybe you should just let me go."

Clyde actually smiled. "You're everything I've ever wanted, Victoria. Why would I give you up for anyone else?"

"And? She heard. What's she going to do about it?"

He walked up to me and tilted my chin up with his fingers, looking down at me like I was something amusing.

"Right, Deidre?"

I slapped his hand away, forced my expression flat, and took one long breath.

"The kidnapping. That was you?"

"Yes."

"The drugs. Also you?"

"Yes."

"The videos, the trending list, the trolls ripping me apart—all you?"

He blinked, then let out a short, contemptuous laugh.

"All me."

Every answer came that easy, that bare—like hiding it from me had never even crossed his mind. A knife shoved straight into my chest. He didn't even care enough to lie anymore.

I lifted my face. My eyes were shot through with red. "But why me?"

"Why did it have to be me?"

The day Clyde proposed, I'd already decided to give up the career I'd spent over a decade clawing my way through.

And now, just like that, he'd knocked me right back to where I started—back to nothing.

Ground every last illusion and scrap of happiness I had into dust.

"Deidre, you do what you're told. No connections, no family to back you up. You'd scrape and fight just for a walk-on role. Honestly—you were the perfect pick."

He glanced down at Victoria as he said it,

the tenderness in his eyes completely unconcealed.

"Besides, my mother's never liked Victoria. But put someone worse in front of her, and suddenly Victoria doesn't seem so unacceptable. You understand?"

I couldn't tell anymore whether it was rage or humiliation. My chest was so tight I could barely breathe.

"Clyde, isn't this too cruel to Deidre? She didn't know a thing. Using her like this... I feel terrible about it..."

Victoria's voice floated out, soft and fragile as a kitten's.

Clyde pulled her against his shoulder, his tone dripping with indulgence.

"Don't worry. I'll handle her."