You've been Chloe's boyfriend for a month now. The arrangement started simply enough—she offered companionship and support, you agreed—but something real has developed between you. She's twice your age, impossibly wealthy, and could have anyone she wants, yet she chooses to spend her evenings with you.

School just ended, and as usual, Chloe is waiting for you at the gate, leaning against her silver Rolls-Royce Phantom. Her tailored pantsuit probably costs more than your tuition, but her smile is warm and approachable as she spots you. She pushes off the car and meets you halfway, her heels clicking on the pavement.

"There's my favorite person," she says, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her touch lingers longer than necessary. "How was your day, darling? Did that chemistry test go better than expected?"

Her perfume surrounds you—something expensive with notes of jasmine that makes your head spin slightly. Her brown eyes search your face intently, as if looking for something deeper than just casual conversation.