The CEO’s Fake Bride: Her Cold-Blooded Revenge

Episode 2: The Last Lifeline

The screen of Elara’s phone was cracked, but it still flickered to life. With no home and a heart shattered by Marcus’s betrayal, she had only one person left in the world. She dialed Maya, her best friend since childhood.

"Maya..." Elara’s voice was a ragged whisper, barely audible over the lashing rain.

"Elara? Oh my god, why do you sound like that? Are you okay?"

"They kicked me out, Maya. My dad... he just watched. And Marcus... he’s with Tiffany." Elara choked back a sob. "I have nowhere to go. My clothes are in the mud. Can I—"

"Stop right there," Maya interrupted, her voice firm and protective. "Get into a taxi right now. I don’t care if you have to spend your last cent. I’m opening the door. You’re staying with me for as long as you need. We’ll figure this out, Elara. I promise."

That night, on Maya’s small sofa, wrapped in a warm blanket, Elara didn't sleep. She stared at the ceiling, her mind replaying the image of her father’s indifferent face. She realized then that being "good" and "quiet" had gotten her nothing. To survive, she had to become someone else.

The next morning, Elara used Maya’s iron to press the only professional blouse that wasn't ruined by the rain. She applied light makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes and headed to the university. She had one goal: finish her degree. It was her only ticket out of this hell.

As she walked through the campus, she felt the eyes of her classmates on her. The video of the "spoiled milk" incident had gone viral in their school group. Sarah and her cronies stood near the fountain, pointing and snickering, but Elara walked past them like they were invisible. She was a woman on a mission.

However, before she could reach her first lecture, the overhead speakers crackled.

"Student 2049, Elara Vance. Please report to the Dean of Finance's office immediately. I repeat, Elara Vance to the Finance office."

A cold pit formed in her stomach. She walked toward the administrative building, her heels clicking rhythmically on the linoleum floor. When she entered the office, the Dean didn't even look up from his paperwork.

"Sit down, Miss Vance," he said coldly.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

The Dean pushed a document across the desk. "Your father called this morning. He has officially withdrawn his sponsorship of your education. Not only that, but he has requested a refund for the current semester’s tuition, claiming it was paid in error."

Elara’s breath hitched. "He can’t do that. The semester is halfway over!"

"He is the primary account holder, Miss Vance. He can do whatever he likes with his money," the Dean replied, finally looking at her with a glimmer of pity that felt like a slap. "As of this moment, you have a balance of $15,000 due for this term. If it isn't paid by the end of the week, you will be formally expelled and your credits will be frozen."

"A week?" Elara gasped. "That’s impossible! I’m the top of my class. I’m up for the Excellence Award!"

"The university runs on funds, not just grades," the Dean said, standing up to signal the end of the meeting. "I suggest you talk to your father. Or find a very wealthy benefactor. Otherwise, don't bother showing up for your finals."

Elara walked out of the office, her legs feeling like lead. $15,000 in five days. She didn't even have fifteen dollars in her bank account.

She sat on a stone bench outside, her head in her hands. Just then, a crumpled flyer caught her eye, tumbling across the grass in the wind. She picked it up.

INTERNSHIP OPPORTUNITY: THORNE ENTERPRISES.

Direct Assistant to the CEO’s Department.

Competitive Stipend + Signing Bonus for Top Candidates.

The stipend alone wouldn't be enough, but the "Signing Bonus" mentioned was rumored to be massive for those who could survive the CEO's grueling standards.

"Thorne Enterprises," Elara whispered. Adrian Thorne was known as a monster in a bespoke suit, but he was a monster with the power to change her life.

She stood up, smoothing her skirt. She didn't have a father, a boyfriend, or a home anymore. But she had her brain. And it was time to put a price tag on it.