I was halfway through a sad cafeteria lunch when a livestream popped up:

[Ring toss—whoever lands it gets the dog.]

Onscreen, Alverton University's rich-boy squad cracked up, betting on who'd "own" me.

Adrian Locke, the student council golden boy, flicked his ring. It landed dead center on my nameplate.

"One month. Let's see which owner the little bitch wags her tail for."

I closed the stream.

Right then, a text from my dad lit up my phone:

[Sweetheart, have you chosen your fiancé candidate?]

I smirked, snapped a screenshot of the stream, and sent it.

[Evaluation complete. All four disqualified.]

On the livestream, the name I was using—"Serena Smith"—hung from a dog's neck, swinging back and forth.

Alverton University's top four golden boys stood around it, playing their latest game—love ring toss.

Whoever landed a ring on the dog "won" me.

Four rings were already stacked around its neck.

Adrian Locke chuckled. "Well, this is lively. All four of us into the same little bitch?"

Finley Gibson arched a brow. "She's a broke transfer. How much could she know? She's probably already dazzled."

Timothy Jenner's eyes lit up. "Let's make it interesting. One month. We'll see who she's obsessed with."

Henry Heimlich didn't speak. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, like the winner was already decided.

I shut off the livestream and smirked.

Funny, right?

Dad sent me to Alverton University to pick a solid fiancé from those four.

Too bad.

Not one of them made the cut.

***

The livestream kept rolling. The camera zoomed in on a dressed-up girl calling my name at the dog.

"Serena, come here! Be good, good dog!" She smiled wide. "A broke transfer just hit Alverton U and already got tangled with you four golden boys. That's rough."

The chat flew by—

[Poor girl came to Alverton U for a sugar daddy. Guess she scored!]

[Didn't the last few get forced to drop out or get knocked up and abort? New season, same show?]

[Can't wait to see her act lovesick. Bet she's already planning the wedding.]

Adrian draped a hand over her shoulder, voice easy. "You made the game. We're just playing. Why pin it on us?"

Finley played with her fingers, sounding affectionate. "We went too easy last time. That girl just cried. You said it was boring. So what'll it take to impress you, Princess Chloe?"

Timothy flipped his hair, smug. "Cinderella plot. Easy. I'll bet on myself. One million."

Henry didn't talk. He just slipped his jacket over her shoulders. "I'm in. One and a half."

They performed for the camera like it was nothing.

I felt nothing.

Because I wasn't Serena Smith.

I was Blair Blanchet.

This transfer? Dad's setup. Fake name. Real mission—pick a husband from the four of them.

Right now, I was "Serena Smith," broke and invisible at the bottom of the food chain.

What pissed me off wasn't them humiliating me.

It was how they kept grinding innocent girls into the dirt.

The four boys who used to trail after me had turned into this.

Silently, I gave each of them a zero.

Guys like that weren't worthy of carrying my shoes.

I was about to close the stream for good when new comments popped up—

[Why are four guys circling her? She trying to collect the whole set?]

[Are you dumb? That's Chloe. The Blanchet heiress!]

[They grew up with her. Swore if they couldn't marry her, they'd protect her forever!]

Chloe?

Blanchet heiress?

Since when did my family adopt an older sister?

Before I could even think straight, everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the cafeteria.

Adrian on my left.

Finley on my right.

Across from me sat Timothy and Henry.

The cafeteria went dead quiet.

Every eye locked on me.

Adrian reached over and tucked the loose strand behind my ear, frowning. "You're eating that?"

I kept my head down and took two bites. "I'm broke. This is what I can afford."

The four of them traded a quick look.

Disdain flashed in their eyes—gone just as fast, replaced with polished smiles.

***

Timothy flipped the switch fast and grabbed my hand. "With that face? You're eating leftovers?"

Before I could answer, he hauled me out, shoved me into a glossy black luxury car, and drove straight to Alverton's priciest five-star Michelin spot.

I went still.

Wasn't this basically my cafeteria?

The head chef? My parents brought him back from Francia. On paper, he owned the place. In reality, he cooked for me.

The second we walked in, the manager rushed over, ready to say, "Miss Blan—"

I gave a tiny shake of my head.

He swallowed and said, "This way, please."

Finley pulled out a chair, all charm. "Order anything. Just home-style cooking. Don't be shy."

I almost laughed.

Yeah. It was home cooking.

Mine.

They showed off while introducing every dish.

I'd been sick of this menu for years. I took a few bored bites.

In their eyes?

I just didn't know how to eat properly.

Henry reached over, twisted a claw off the deep-sea blue crab, cracked it clean, and held the meat to my lips.

I spotted the tiny camera pinned to his chest.

Now I was interested.

I dropped my gaze, voice soft. "Henry, I heard your hands only hold a scalpel."

His mouth twitched. A beat passed. "You're different."

So you can disgust me, but I can't disgust you?

I fidgeted, eyes down, playing shy—then took the bite.

After that, they started competing.

Serving me food. Peeling shrimp. Wiping my mouth.

They didn't stop.

I smiled and played along with each of them.

By the end, I was wiped.

Back in the dorm, my roommates stared at me, expressions complicated.

I checked my phone.

Right on cue—Chloe was live again.

The stream looped the clip of Henry feeding me crab. Over and over.

The room exploded with laughter.

Timothy slapped his thigh. "I almost lost it! That look on her face—like she really thought she was the lead in some romance drama!"

Henry's face went dark. "What's so funny? I scrubbed my hands three times and still felt gross."

Finley clapped his shoulder, grinning. "She's probably in love now. Nice move."

After that, they doubled down.

Flowers. Gifts. Date invites.

Every day, I played my role, feeding their livestream.

When classmates whispered and laughed, I acted like I didn't hear.

Until one day, someone yanked me into a corner.

The guy swallowed hard. "Serena, you're being played. Those guys aren't good."

Everyone knew what was happening to me.

Some watched for fun. Some stayed out of it.

He was the only one who warned me.

Before I could respond—

Someone shoved him hard.

He stumbled and hit the ground.

The four of them stepped in, blocking my view.

Adrian flashed his student council president badge. "Stay away from Serena. You're broke. Don't get ideas, or you won't graduate from Alverton U."

Then he looked at me. "Serena, he didn't say anything weird, right?"

I shook my head, blank.

They relaxed.

"Your birthday's at the end of the month," Adrian said. "We'll take you to an auction. Buy you something nice."

Right. The fake birthday I made up.

I slipped back into character.

"You remembered...? I'm so touched. But I've never been to an auction. What if I embarrass you?"

They told me not to worry.

Before the auction, a gown was delivered to me.

I frowned.

My limited-edition custom dress should've been in my closet. Why was it in their hands?

Then it clicked.

I pulled up Chloe's account.

Of course—she was live.

"Taking the poor girl out to see the world again. The dress? I lent it to her. I never repeat outfits."

She covered her mouth, laughing, flashing a sapphire ring the size of a pigeon egg.

"She probably can't even walk in heels. Think she'll face-plant?"

My face went cold.

The dress. The earrings. The ring. The necklace.

All mine.

I walked out like nothing happened.

The four of them were waiting at the entrance. Chloe held up her phone, ready to catch me humiliating myself.

The second I stepped in, heads turned.

"She's gorgeous."

"Which family is she from?"

The four of them stared like they'd forgotten how to blink.

Chloe's smile cracked.

I flipped my hair. Please. Do you even know who I am?

The jewelry auction started.

I couldn't care less.

They kept pushing, so I pointed at a necklace at random.

"Three hundred thousand," Timothy called.

"Five hundred thousand," Henry said coolly. "Not letting you have this one."

"Eight hundred thousand," Adrian added.

Chloe's eyes went red with envy. She tried to jump in—couldn't get a word out.

They kept bidding. Three million.

Timothy and Henry backed off.

Adrian was about to take the win when Finley cut in. "All in."

He crossed his legs, slipped an arm around my shoulders. "Told you I'd win Serena's birthday gift. I keep my promises."

When it was over, the necklace sat in my hands.

Speechless.

When I said I didn't want it, I meant it. I'd already tossed pieces like this aside.

Chloe strutted over. "Finley, I like this too. Give it to me?"

She shoved a few crumpled bills into my arms. "Jewelry matches the person. You should stick to the dollar store."

I looked at Finley, eyes glossy. "I don't deserve something this expensive. You can take it back—"

He panicked. "Who says you don't deserve it?!"

He brushed the corner of my eye, then shot Chloe a look sharp enough to cut glass. "It's her birthday. You're trying to grab her gift? Is that appropriate? She was happy. You made her cry. Apologize."

Chloe went tomato red. Tears on cue. She spun and ran.

That night, the livestream fired up again.

On camera, Chloe wedged herself between the four of them, crying hard.

"Why did you treat me like that today?!"

Adrian handed her a tissue. "It was just acting. We had to make that country bumpkin buy it."

Finley smirked. "Did you see how devoted she looked? Dumping her's gonna be epic."

Timothy shrugged. "Relax. When we get paid next month, I'll buy you the most expensive necklace."