Lucy's POV
The moment I stepped into the lecture hall, the buzz of conversation noticeably died down. I could feel their eyes on me—some curious, others openly hostile. What the hell was their problem? It's not like I'd done anything to them personally.
I kept my chin up, clutching my bag tightly. These losers were just jealous. That had to be it.
"Lucy," the class president approached me with a face like he'd stepped in something disgusting. "The teacher wants to see you."
"Why?" My stomach tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. "Is something wrong?"
"You missed the professor's exam," he said flatly, but his eyes were full of judgment. Asshole. "She's marked you as failing. Plus... other things."
My heart skipped a beat. "What other things?"
"Just go to the office." He shrugged, clearly enjoying this moment. "They're waiting for you."
I rolled my eyes, trying to appear unconcerned. "Whatever. It's probably a misunderstanding."
As I turned to leave, I heard him mutter, "Yeah, you're the misunderstanding."
I whipped around. "What did you say?"
"Nothing." His expression was innocent, but his eyes weren't. "Good luck, Lucy."
I stormed out, my face burning. As the door closed behind me, I heard laughter erupting. Those bastards. Who did they think they were?
Don't worry. I'll handle this. Dad will make a call, and all this will disappear.
Walking across campus, I texted my usual homework guy, the one who always wrote my papers:
ME: WTF? The school just called me in about my papers. I thought you said they were original.
HIM: They were. Original paraphrases. Not my fault if they caught you.
ME: You bastard, I paid you so much money!
HIM: Lucy, I've been helping you cheat for two years. You should feel lucky it lasted this long. Don't contact me again.
That son of a bitch! I stopped mid-stride, staring at my phone in disbelief. I'd paid him thousands of dollars to write those papers! And now he was ditching me when I needed him most?
I shoved my phone back in my pocket, trying to suppress the growing panic. It's fine. Dad will fix this. He always does.
When I arrived at the administration office, the secretary didn't even bother to be polite. She just pointed to a chair and said, "Wait there," without looking up.
I sat down, impatiently tapping on the floor until she shot me an irritated glare. God, I sometimes really hate this school. If it weren't for its prestige, I would have gone somewhere else long ago.
Twenty minutes later—a full twenty minutes!—I was finally called into the academic advisor's office. From the teacher's tight expression, I knew today wouldn't improve our relationship.
"Ms. Winston," she began bluntly, without any pleasantries, "we need you to bring a parent or guardian for a meeting tomorrow."
"Why?" I immediately went on the defensive. "If this is about missing one class, I had a family emergency."
"One class?" She flipped through some files, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Ms. Winston, you not only missed your major course, but your passing grades in two other courses are also highly suspicious. Your two term papers clearly show evidence of plagiarism, which seriously violates university regulations."
Damn damn damn.
"That's ridiculous!" I protested, well aware those papers weren't my work. "I put a lot of effort into those papers!"
"Did you?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she pushed those ugly glasses up her nose. "Because our plagiarism detection software says otherwise. But that's not all. We've also received information that you bribed the student activities coordinator to replace another student as the host for the department showcase."
My stomach dropped. How did they know? I had been so careful—cash payment, private meeting, no paper trail.
"Who told you that?" My voice came out weaker than I intended. "That—that's completely untrue!"
"Ms. Winston," she leaned forward, making no effort to hide her contempt, "you were admitted through... special channels."
I flinched. Everyone knew my parents had "donated" a substantial sum to secure my place, but this was never supposed to be mentioned so bluntly.
"As a student who entered through non-traditional channels," she continued, "you should have been especially conscientious about following university regulations. Instead, you've demonstrated the same behavior as your Lancaster friend—dishonesty and an excessive sense of entitlement."
My blood ran cold. "How do you know about Brian?"
Her expression was almost gleeful. "Check the university forum, Ms. Winston. Everyone knows now."
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely unlock my phone. The university forum loaded painfully slowly, each second stretching my nerves thinner.
Then I saw it.
"EXPOSÉ: LUCY WINSTON'S ACADEMIC FRAUD AND BRIBERY SCANDAL"
Three thousand views. Two hundred comments. Posted just four hours ago.
No no no no no...
I scrolled through the article in horror. It had everything—screenshots of my plagiarized papers compared with the original sources, financial records showing my payments to the student activities coordinator, even my mother's email to the admissions office hinting at our "generous donation."
Worst of all, it included testimonials. The girl I'd replaced as showcase host had written a detailed account of how she was bumped without explanation after three years of hard work.
"This can't be happening," I whispered, scrolling through comment after comment calling me a cheater, a fraud, a spoiled rich girl who bought her way in. "Who did this? This is a fucking invasion of privacy!"
"This information comes from university records and student complaints," the teacher replied, completely unmoved by my distress. "There's no privacy violation when it comes to academic integrity issues. I expect to see your parents tomorrow morning to discuss your departure from our university."
Departure? As in permanent departure?
"You can't expel me," I said, my voice rising in panic. "My father—"
"Will be informed of the situation tomorrow," she cut me off. "In the meantime, I suggest you take some time to reflect on the choices that brought you here, Ms. Winston."
I stood up, nearly knocking over my chair. "I'll have my PR team take down that post! You can't let students publicly humiliate each other on official university platforms!"
"The university doesn't control the student forum," Peterson coldly replied. "Though I suspect the damage is already done, regardless of whether the post remains."
I stormed out, tears threatening to spill over. The secretary didn't even look up as I passed. In the hallway outside, a group of students fell silent when they saw me, then erupted into poorly concealed whispers and snickers.
This is a nightmare. This can't be happening. Who would do this to me?
Then it hit me. There was only one person who had access to all this information, who hated me enough to destroy me like this.
Stella. It had to be Stella.
Stella's POV
At Lancaster manor, I was reviewing design proposals for the upcoming Light collaboration when my phone rang. My grandmother's name flashed on the screen, immediately triggering a complex wave of emotions.
What does she want now? I thought, my finger hovering over the decline button before reluctantly answering.
"Stella, dear!" Her voice came through, warm in a way that still made me wary. "How are you?"
"Fine, Grandma," I replied cautiously. "Is everything alright?"
"Oh, yes, everything's wonderful! I'm just calling to invite you over tomorrow. I know my birthday is still a week away, but I thought we could celebrate a little early."
I hesitated, immediately suspicious of the timing. After being treated like an unwelcome guest for months, this sudden desire for my company seemed odd.
"I'll try," I said noncommittally.
"Oh, thank you, dear! Around noon would be perfect. And... perhaps Adam could join us too? I'd love to see him again."
My eyebrows rose at that. Grandma had barely acknowledged Adam's existence before, and now she wanted him at her birthday celebration?
There must be something behind this.
"I'll ask him," I promised, though I already knew what his answer would be.
After ending the call, I stared at my phone for a long time, then sighed and headed to Adam's study.