Part 3I Claimed My Best Friend's Brother

The second name on my block list… wasn't that Ken's? My best friend's brother?

More than two minutes had passed. It was too late to unsend it.

Jenna's end went silent. She hadn't replied.

Did she see it? What is she thinking? Why isn't she asking me about it?

I clutched my phone, my anxiety skyrocketing. My mind raced, playing out every possible scenario of her explosive anger.

Time ticked by. I was sick with dread, but I didn't dare ask.

"When you get to The Reverie, have Old Chen bring the card up to you."

"Anna, Alex is the real deal! He's Mr. Crawford's actual grandson! I can't believe someone with his background could be so low-key at school. I love him even more now! So, so much!"

Just as I was about to suffocate from the tension, two messages from her came through.

She hadn't noticed.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, feeling like a beached fish tossed back into the water. I spammed a few reaction GIFs to discreetly push the screenshot further up the chat history, ending with a GIF of a person on a speeding motorcycle.

"On my way, my lady!"

"I can't believe the campus king has such a background and is still so humble! No wonder you have such good taste!"

As a qualified sidekick, I always knew how to provide the right kind of emotional support, saying exactly what she wanted to hear. And she always fell for it.

After the emotional rollercoaster, I collapsed onto my bed. The sky outside my dorm window was dark. With the stress gone, my thoughts immediately drifted back to Ken.

Ugh. So pathetic.

I put on some light makeup and headed out to meet Jenna, feeling completely drained.

At the restaurant, I met up with their driver, Old Chen. He handed me the car keys and a credit card.

"We were in a hurry tonight, so we took Mr. Gordon's usual car. Can you handle it, Miss Anna? If not, I can have someone bring another one over."

My hand froze. Ken's car?

I instinctively clutched the keys, then quickly tried to hand them back. "You know me, Uncle Chen. I wouldn't dare."

He looked troubled. He made a quick call. "Yes, Mr. Gordon's car is at The Reverie. You're coming now? Great, I'll wait for you to swap." He hung up and turned to me. "Miss Anna, could you please wait here for Little Chen? He's bringing the miss's car over now."

Little Chen? My blood ran cold. That was Ken's personal driver! He had been a witness to my entire secret, year-long affair, chauffeuring me between villas and hotels. Swap keys with him? No way.

I made a split-second decision and bolted. "Uncle Chen, I'm running late! I'll go up first! Just leave the keys at the front desk for me!" I sprinted away, leaving a bewildered Old Chen in my wake.

I paused to catch my breath on the second-floor landing and saw Alex around the corner.

He was leaning against a window, smoking, his gaze lost in the night sky. The cigarette in his hand had burned almost to the filter.

If it weren't for Ken's god-tier looks, I probably would have fallen for a guy like Alex—fresh, sunny, and handsome. But having just blocked him, even though he didn't know it was me, I felt a pang of guilt. I tried to sneak past him toward the main hall.

But his hearing was sharp. He caught my movement out of the corner of his eye.

I froze, wondering if I should say hi. Do I normally say hi to him? I racked my brain. When I was deep in my Ken-induced love fog, did I ever acknowledge him when I was with Jenna?

While I was hesitating, he stubbed out his cigarette and walked briskly toward me.

I looked around. No one else was there. He was coming for me.

"Hey… fancy seeing you here, Alex," I said, my shamelessness kicking in. If I couldn't hide, I might as well own it.

But as I waved, he grabbed my hand. He stared at me, his eyes clouded with a sullen emotion.

"Why did you delete me?"

He knows?! A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. My mind raced. How do I get out of this social nightmare?

"Was I texting you too much? Did I annoy you?" he asked, his voice soft, almost wounded. "Did I say something to upset you?"

If his one text every couple of days counted as annoying, then my constant stream of messages to Ken could be classified as harassment.

"What are you talking about?" I played dumb. It was the only way. I looked up at him, blinked innocently, and forced a bright smile. "I don't have your contact info, so I couldn't have deleted you. You must have me mistaken for someone else. You're the campus king, after all. So many people want to add you."

I thought it was the perfect excuse. But his gaze hardened.

"I didn't say it was WeChat."

My smile froze. He pulled out his phone and showed me his WeChat profile. "Is it true that a lot of people want to add me? Then you should add me."

I was dying inside. What do I do? Can you even add someone who's on your block list? I cursed myself for not using a burner account.

"Anna, what are you doing?"

Jenna appeared, resplendent in a designer gown and towering heels, slowly walking toward us. The click-clack of her shoes on the marble floor sounded like the countdown to my execution.

I panicked, trying to pull away, only to remember that Alex still had a death grip on my hand.

...It was over. I struggled, but he wouldn't let go.

"Jenna, I need to talk to her. Can you give us a minute?" Alex said coolly, stepping in front of me protectively.

No. This was not happening. I was about to pry his fingers off my hand when a chill ran down my spine. I looked up and saw him.

Ken.

It was really, truly over. Why was he here? What was I going to do?

I stood frozen, watching the impossibly handsome, impeccably dressed man walk toward us. He was tall, with long legs, exuding an aura of cool elegance, one hand casually tucked in his pocket, a cold smirk on his perfect face.

A coldness I had never seen before.

He walked right past me, as if I didn't exist. The faint scent of his cologne was gone in an instant.

I had imagined a thousand different scenarios, but I was not prepared for this—for him to look right through me. A lump formed in my throat, and my eyes began to burn.

A tear escaped, then another, splashing onto my arm.

Why am I crying?