Her Perfect Trap

My classmate Bianca and I have the same taste. She wants every man I’ve ever dated.

She says I’m too naive. That I don't see how powerful men think. She calls it “testing” them for me.

She says she’s helping. Then she sleeps with my boyfriend.

Then she rubs it in my face.

“See? I told you that you can’t handle them. These men are sharks. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have been eaten alive by now.”

I choked on my rage. I said nothing.

This time, I went behind her back. I went after the king of New York's underworld.

When she found out, she made her move.

But she has no idea. This man isn't my endgame. He's the trap I set for her.

After stealing my boyfriend again, Bianca flaunted the hickeys on her neck and the expensive watch right in my face.

"This watch looks so much better on me."

Bianca held up her wrist. The Patek Philippe glittered in the sunlight streaming into the Columbia University library.

The pen in my hand nearly snapped.

That was the limited-edition watch Nico gave me last month.

"Bianca, you—"

"Oh, right. This was yours." She cut me off, her smile a mix of fake innocence and pure smugness. "But Nico agrees. He said it just... fits my vibe better. He texted me last night. Said he's never met a girl with taste like mine."

The whole library could feel the tension. Students around us exchanged knowing glances.

"Here we go again," Sarah muttered.

"Bianca is such a good friend. She always shows Viviana what these guys are really like," Emma added.

"Exactly," Jessica nodded. "If Bianca didn't sacrifice herself to test them, Viviana would be wrapped around some playboy's little finger."

My nails left crescent moons in my palms. I almost drew blood.

Bianca tilted her head, her eyes full of fake pity.

"Bella, I know you're mad. But I’m just trying to protect you." She sighed. "You're just too sweet, Bella. You can't see what these men are really like. They just want to play with you. They're never for real."

"Yeah, Nico even got your birthday wrong," Sarah said, dead serious. "You can tell a guy like that is bad news."

I clenched my jaw and said nothing.

I knew the truth.

Bianca had sent the same picture to every rich kid who ever asked me out: a private photo of herself, half-naked on silk sheets.

The caption was always the same: Want to know how boring Viviana is?

It worked every time. Every single time, it made me look like a fool who was completely in the dark.

But I had to take it.

Suddenly, the whispers in the library grew louder.

"Oh my god, look outside!"

"Is that Matteo Falcone?"

"It really is him! What is he doing on campus?"

I looked out the window.

Matteo Falcone moved down the main path like he owned the place.

He wore a perfectly tailored black suit. Two men, clearly bodyguards, followed close behind.

The whole campus was buzzing.

Students were sneaking pictures with their phones, but no one dared get close.

This man controlled half of New York's underworld. Publicly, he was the CEO of a revolutionary biotech company.

Every time he showed up in public, he made the front page of the business section.

And now, he was at Columbia.

Bianca instantly sat up straight. Her eyes burned with a crazy ambition.

Getting her claws into him was her ultimate dream.

"What's he doing here?" she muttered, already fixing her hair.

I packed my books and got up to leave.

In the bathroom, I carefully reapplied my makeup.

Lipstick. Eyeliner. Highlighter.

Every stroke was precise.

This was war paint.

When I walked out, Bianca was waiting by the door.

"Viviana, wait." She blocked my path. "Where are you going? Didn't you and Nico break up? Who are you meeting?"

Her eyes were filled with suspicion and a hungry curiosity.

I let out a cold laugh.

"None of your business." I tried to walk around her. "But since you love testing men so much, you can have that piece of trash. I don't need him."

Bianca grabbed my arm, her grip tight.

"What is that supposed to mean—"

My phone rang.

A deep, sexy voice came through the speaker. "Baby, you ready?"

The color drained from Bianca's face.

She snatched the phone from my hand.

"Hi, this is Viviana's good friend, Bianca." She switched to her sweetest voice. "She's still getting ready, why don't we chat first? I've always admired your work so much—"

"Put her on the phone."

The voice on the other end was ice-cold.

Bianca's smile froze on her face.

"But, I just wanted to—"

"Now."

The one word was a death sentence.

Shaking, Bianca handed the phone back to me, her face ashen.

I took the call, my voice soft. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's okay, baby. I'm right outside the library." Matteo's voice was warm again.

I hung up.

The hallway was dead silent.

Students walking by had stopped in their tracks, staring at us with wide eyes.

Bianca stared at me, her face a mask of pure, venomous jealousy.

Her voice trembled. "Your date... is Matteo Falcone?"