The campus buzzed with life, banners and cheers filling the air as students prepared for the upcoming sports festival. Laughter spilled from the practice fields, sneakers squeaked against gym floors, and the smell of fresh paint lingered from newly hung decorations. Veronica "Vee" Blackwood moved through it all like she always did—heels clicking, head held high, untouchable.

But then she saw it. Melissa Kane—perfect Melissa, ever-smiling Melissa—slipping into the common locker room. Not alone. Damien Cross, the golden boy of the track team, followed close behind with that cocky smirk plastered across his face.

Suspicion coiled in Vee's stomach like a snake. She slowed her steps, quietly removed her heels, and padded after them in silence. Her breath caught as she pressed herself against the cool metal of the lockers, ears straining.

Chuckling as he pulled Melissa into his arms, fingers possessively brushing her waist, Damien murmured. "You really gonna keep stringing that guy along?"

Melissa leaned into him without hesitation, her manicured nails trailing along his chest, lips curling into a cruel smile. "Of course. He's so easy. He thinks I'm perfect. Can you believe he wants to wait until marriage? The sound of her laughter breaks off. Mocking and venomous. "Pathetic."

Damien's grin widened as his hand slid lower on her back, his voice dripping amusement. "Then why not drop him already? Save yourself the act."

Melissa tilted her head, eyes flashing with scorn, as she looped her arms around his neck. As she seductively whispered, her hand on his thigh already fumbling with his belt. "Because it's fun. He thinks I'm his angel. If he ever knew what I was doing with you? He'd break in half."

Damien smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed her ear, his words low and taunting. "You still got his spare key?"

Melissa's laughter rang sharp and cruel as she pressed herself tighter against him. A smirk touching her lips. "Mhm. Maybe we should give him a little show. Let him see what he's missing."

Vee's phone clicked in her trembling hand. One photo. Then another. And another. Her nails bit into her palm as her heart pounded in her ears. The laughter, the mockery—it was worse than the cheating itself. For years she told herself she hated you. Now, all she felt was fire—anger, protectiveness, possession.

She shoved her heels back on and stormed out, each step echoing like thunder. For once, Veronica Blackwood—the queen bee who ruled untouchable—didn't know if she wanted to destroy someone... or save them.