Word on the street in the city of Hereshire was that Roy Chester had a penchant for eighteen-year-old girls. Yet, Willow Croyton was twenty-one when they started dating, and she stuck by him for nearly three years.

She was a well-known simp to Roy, her only merit being her docility and good behavior. Later, when Willow left, Roy was spotted multiple times near her apartment block, his eyes teary.

Word on the street in Hereshire was that the young heir of the Chesters had a thing for eighteen-year-olds. However, Willow Croyton was twenty-one when she got with Roy Chester, and they were together for nearly three years.

One evening, Willow received a call from Roy. He told her he would be back in Hereshire that night and was craving short ribs. Willow spent the next two hours cooking up a storm, but Roy was nowhere to be found.

Around eight that night, she called to check on him. The line was noisy, filled with chatter and card shuffling of a poker game.

“I’m at the Red Lounge. I’ll send the driver to pick you up.”

“I thought you were coming back for dinner,” Willow replied.

“Haven’t you had dinner? What do you fancy? Come over, and I’ll get the kitchen to make something for you,” Roy said without a care.

Willow fell silent for a moment.

Right before she took up on his offer, a boisterous voice interrupted the call. “Royal flush!”

Amid the crackling sounds, someone poked fun at Roy. “What does Willow have on you? I can’t believe you haven’t dumped her yet. You’re not actually into her, are you?”

Roy scoffed. “Get your head out of the clouds before you talk to me, will you?”

“You guys just don’t get it. Even a pet will grow on you, and Willow is the ultimate pleaser. Roy can’t just turn his back on a faithful doormat.”

“Oh, quit it!” Roy remarked with a smile.

There was a bunch of noise, then it went quiet. Roy must have realized the call was still connected, so he hung up.

The poker game was still going on when Willow arrived at the club. The guys at the poker table were the ones she had heard on the phone. No one seemed the least bit concerned, though. They were sure Willow would not and could not make a fuss regardless of what she had heard.

Willow was gorgeous, but pretty girls were a dime a dozen. Born into power and privilege, Roy could have any woman he wanted. Willow was just the most sensible and docile one of them all to stick with Roy all these years. Sure enough, Willow simply kept her head down while taking a seat next to Roy.

Roy was tipsy when leaving the club at midnight, his weight pinning Willow down. By the time Willow managed to shove Roy into the car, she had worked up quite a sweat.

The car cruised down a dark, empty mountain road. The absence of streetlights gave the illusion of being in the middle of nowhere.

Roy leaned in for a kiss, and Willow, while sitting upright, let out a startled yelp when Roy suckled her earlobe. He really got into it and anchored her hand, his body pressing down on hers.

“Uh, don’t….” Willow murmured, her eyes darting to the front in a flurry.

Without pausing, Roy tapped on the privacy partition behind him, and the car pulled up at the side of the road.

Roy was a seasoned lover, always looking for thrills. Despite her familiarity with his ways, Willow could not get used to his advances. She blushed when the chauffeur got out of the car and locked the door behind him.

Still, Roy seemed to love that about her. He gave her cheek a little squeeze and clutched her chin to lock tongues while unbuckling his belt with his free hand.

The confines of the small space kicked Roy’s desire into drive. Their bodies were slicked with sweat on the chilly night of late autumn.

Willow plucked her chin up, her eyes zeroing in on the drop of sweat slipping along Roy’s chiseled face, chin, Adam’s apple, chest, and all the way down. She had to admit that even without the prestige of his family name, Roy had the looks and body.

Noticing her staring, Roy chuckled. “Admiring the view?”

Before Willow could say anything, he slipped a diamond-encrusted bracelet onto her wrist. The jewelry piece slid down her arm, the cold sensation of the metal pressing against her skin.

“Your birthday gift.”

Seated, Roy rolled over and pulled on his shirt offhandedly.

Willow’s downcast eyes fell on her phone. The clock just struck twelve, and it was October 19th. It was not her birthday, though.

“Thank you.” Willow leaned closer to wrap her arms around Roy’s arms and pecked him on the cheek.

With the phone ringing, Willow glanced over while Roy beat her to take the call.

“Roy…” Sierra Burton’s whimpers echoed in the cramped car space.

Roy sat up. “What’s the matter? Easy there. Take your time.”

Only a broken stream of tears came through.

Furrowing his brows, Roy buttoned up his shirt. “I’ll get there now.”

After the call, Roy fastened the last button. “Get out.”

Roy gave no explanation or time for Willow to straighten herself up.

Just like that, Willow stood at the side of the road, clad in a windbreaker as Roy’s ride disappeared into the night. The cold night air did little to cool the heat that still clung to her skin.

Then, with her phone vibrating in her pocket, Willow whipped it out for a look.

“See that? I can make him leave you with one phone call.” The message was dripping with smug satisfaction.

Willow tugged at her collar, took a photo of her well-loved neck, and sent it out.

A message soon came in. “You have no shame!”

Willow grinned.

A barrage of messages continued to flood her phone. Without reading the texts, Willow knew the content was insults and hate directed at her.

She plopped the phone back into her phone and pulled her coat tighter around her shivering body, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

Such was her life, but thankfully, all would be over eleven days later.

The next morning, Willow went to school and presented her paper to her advisor.

“You have a lot of potential, Willow, but your academic pursuits seem to be taking a backseat. How many times have I told you to revise the paper?” The suited professor adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and stared at Willow with a smile.

“What are the changes I should make, professor? I’ll follow your instructions to a tee.” Willow hung her head low, her demeanor soft and submissive.

“Are you sure?”

The advisor rose to his feet and approached Willow from behind, his hand running down her silky hair.

As Willow remained motionless, his hand landed on her shoulder, his fingers kneading through the thin fabric of her blouse.

Willow closed her eyes and murmured, “What do you like about me, professor?”

The advisor laughed. “There’s just something about you that appeals to men. You’re a fascinating contraction between fragility and stubbornness, purity and promiscuity…”

His hand slid further down as he spoke.

Willow broke free and raised her voice. “What are you doing, professor? Let me go! I’m here to submit my paper. Are you going to harass me because I won’t sleep with you?”

Struck by a thought, the advisor grimaced. “Did you set me up?”

Willow’s sobbing voice was filled with terror. “Please stop, professor! Please…”

The advisor scowled. “Motherf–”

Just then, the door to the office was kicked open with a bang.

Roy barged into the room looking like he was out for blood, taking Willow by surprise. The next thing she knew, her advisor was down on the floor, groaning in pain. Roy came on hard and strong, pulling punches right to the bone.

Willow quickly snapped out of her shock and pulled Roy back. “Stop, Roy!”

The man lay on the ground out cold with a busted nose. Not done with the professor, Roy planted a brutal kick.

Willow grabbed him from the waist to pull him back. “You’re going to kill him.”

Huffing and puffing, Roy cocked his head back at her. The first thing he saw was the possessive marks along her collarbone.

Hiding the emotions behind his eyes, he said with bloodthirst, “Did he do that to you?”

Willow followed his line of vision. “You did it.”

Roy was lost for words. However, he paid no heed to Willow’s dissuasion and turned back around to give the man on the ground another kick. Then, he grabbed Willow by the wrist and stormed out.

Willow snatched her bag from the desk and sighed to herself before discreetly turning off the voice recorder inside.

“How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Burning in rage, Roy darted ahead, and Willow had to jog to keep up.

How long had it been? Willow reckoned that it had been more than six months.

It started with verbal harassment and escalated to unwanted physical advances. When she explicitly rejected her advisor, he began to make her life miserable.

Why had she not turned to Roy for help?

At first, Willow did think about seeking his help since her life would be back on track at the snap of Roy’s fingers. Heck, Roy could get away with barging into the office and beating the crap out of her advisor. However, why did she not then?

Emotions washed over her, and before she knew it, her lips curled into a smile. What did Roy say the other day again?

He uttered, “Don’t think too highly of yourself, Willow. Do you actually think you’re my girlfriend because I’m nice to you?”

Left out in the pouring rain, Willow spent the night drenched to the bone and contracted a week-long fever. The moment she felt better, she shamelessly went back to Roy and apologized.

Since then, they had gone about life like nothing ever happened. However, Willow knew that things were different for her.

Roy went to make a phone call and dropped a few terse words. The person on the other end of the line promised to get right to the matter.

“What brings you here?” Willow asked once he was finished with the call.

Before Roy could reply, Willow got her answer when she approached the school gate.

“Fancy seeing you here too, Willow. You’re at school too.” Sierra popped her head out of the car, looking rather innocent and surprised, a far cry from the defiant tone of her messages last night.

“Get in.” Roy released Willow’s hand and approached the driver’s seat.

As Willow drew close, Sierra got out of the car in a fluster. “I’m sorry, Willow. I didn’t mean to make him drive me around like a chauffeur. I should get out of the front passenger seat. I’ll switch with you right now–”

“Hold still! You have a sprained ankle!” Roy stopped Sierra.

Before Roy could say another word, Willow opened the door to the back seat and climbed in. As the car drove off, Roy appeared annoyed, so silence hung heavy in the car.

Moments later, Sierra cocked her head back and said bashfully, “Are you upset, Willow? Roy gave me a ride to school to submit my work because I hurt my ankle. That’s all.”

Before, Willow would snap back with a smile, saying, “I thought it’s compulsory for freshmen to live on campus.”

Today, however, she could not be bothered to engage with Sierra.

Roy said, “She’s having a bad day. Don’t blame yourself or worry too much, kiddo.”

Sierra grinned shyly and pouted. “I’m not a kid anymore, Roy. I’m eighteen, and in a few years, I’ll be old.”

Her gaze lingered on Willow as she said that.

Roy appeared amused, tension lifting from his furrowed brows. After that, Sierra chattered away about her school life while Roy listened intently for once.

Willow looked out the window, her mind elsewhere. She wondered if Sierra’s connection with Roy mirrored hers three years ago. She would say the dumbest and most naïve things on purpose, and Roy would take the time to listen to her. He would even cup her chin and kiss her.

His kisses back then were light, cautious, and almost worshipful. Though time went on, Roy could not get enough of her lips. Only, those kisses became more demanding, possessive, and thick with aggression.

She once lost herself in his affections, until one day, Willow overheard a casual remark from Roy’s buddy. “I didn’t think Willow would be so easy. Once you’re tired of her, maybe I can have a turn.”

Willow fled the scene, unable to take another word. It was humiliating enough to have her private life laid bare, but the thought of hearing the truth from Roy’s own lips was too much to bear. After all, she still cared a lot about Roy then.

“Willow, could you?” Sierra’s voice brought Willow back to reality.

“What?” Willow looked up.

“Roy said you make the best short ribs. Could you make the dish for us, Willow?” Sierra asked with a smile.

Willow glanced at Roy through the rear-view mirror, but Roy kept to himself.

“Sure,” she answered.

“That’s great! Thank you, Willow!”

Then came a buzz from Willow’s phone.

Sierra texted, “Thank you for cooking for us.”

Another text message followed seconds later. “Do you want to know why Roy loves this dish?”

Sierra ended the conversation there. She took pleasure in Willow’s distress, eager to see her squirm in anxiety.

Willow simply dropped her gaze, so Sierra sent another text message as the car entered a villa community.

“Someone once made him the food. Do you want to know who it was?”

Willow put away her phone without responding to the texts.

When the car pulled up outside a villa, Sierra opened the door and stepped out. The moment her foot landed on the floor, she let out a cry and nearly took a tumble.

Roy was quick to break her fall.

“I’m fine, Roy. I can walk… Eek!” Sierra exclaimed as Roy swept her into his arms.

Willow emerged from the car and watched as Sierra clung to Roy, her head nestled against his shoulder, her coy glance meeting Willow’s.

That would have upset Willow before, but she would have had to keep her emotions to herself. Now, she calmly looked ahead and closed the car door. She was even so kind as to punch the passcode for Roy at the front entrance.

Roy took one look at Willow, his expression unreadable.

While Willow was blanching the ribs in the kitchen, Sierra’s cheerful laughter boomed from the living room.

When her phone vibrated on the counter, Willow expected another passive-aggressive text from Sierra. However. her heart quickly sank.

The message came from an unsaved contact, but she knew the number too well. The text was brief. “Transfer me a million bucks.”

Willow grabbed her phone and typed back furiously.

As the bubbling water spilled over from the pot, Willow knocked it off the stove in a panic. Immediately, a sharp, burning pain shot through her foot.