The Man I Loved Was My Enemy

The giant screen in the university auditorium was playing a looped video of my downfall.

The footage showed me walking out of Julian Sterling’s private lounge in the middle of the night, my clothes disheveled.

Then, the screen cut to several fake PayPal transaction screenshots, accompanied by bold, blood-red text: *Vivian Vance slept her way into the prestigious Hudson Spring Fellowship!*

The crowd erupted. Countless judging eyes and phone cameras turned toward me, standing in the very back row.

"No wonder Julian protected her so much before. She was just paying him in bed."