The Broken Rise of Edward

Chapter 1:

Edward stared at his phone again.

$200!

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Slowly, he looked back at his phone screen.

$20,000.!

The price of the Lunaris Bracelet stared at him like it was mocking him.

His chest tightened as if invisible fingers were squeezing his heart. A thin line of cold sweat slid down the back of his neck.

For a moment, he couldn’t even breathe properly..

He couldn’t be mad at Sylvara. He didn’t want to. Not now, not ever. He had loved her since freshman year, from the first time she laughed at something silly he said. Sylvara had that kind of presence that made people pause. Bold, radiant, fearless—the kind of woman whose shadow seemed to linger long after she left. And she had him, Edward, completely wrapped around her little finger.

He set his phone down like it was a burning coal and sank into the creaky metal chair in his hostel room. The chair groaned under him, the sound echoing his anxiety.

‘You’re broke, Ed. Always broke.’

The thought was a bit harder than hunger ever could. He’d grown up in the orphanage after losing his foster mother at fifteen. He’d clawed his way to this life with nothing but sheer grit.

The Sunday mentoring program at St. Benedict’s Church had brought him opportunities, and somehow he’d snagged a scholarship to Ravencroft College, the best in town.

Being a scholarship kid wasn’t glamorous. Every semester was a battle—grades teetering, tuition threatening, meals skipped. On the worst days, he survived on instant noodles and stale bread. On nights when the cafeteria ran out of scraps, he worked long shifts cleaning floors, serving drinks, tutoring freshmen—anything to scrape together cash. All of it for school, survival, and, selfishly, for her.

His textbooks for the semester weren’t even bought yet. He had been saving, penny by painful penny, $10 here, $20 there. Now, $200. Still $19,800 short.

Edward rubbed his temples. The bracelet glimmered on the screen, mocking him.

He closed his eyes, breathing shakily. I’ll make it happen. I have to.

Because he loved her and was ready to do anything for her happiness, Edward pushed out a long, shaky breath. His fingers brushed the worn-out sneakers by the door. The soles were barely holding together, taped in jagged lines from countless nights running errands, cleaning floors, surviving. He pressed the tape flat with his thumb and tightened the laces until they bit into his skin.

Next, he grabbed the apron hanging from the back of the door, frayed at the edges, stained with remnants of meals he’d served hundreds of times. Tonight, he had a shift at the grand hall of Aurion Heights Hotel.

Aurion Heights wasn’t just any hotel—it was the place people came from miles around to see. Glittering lights crowned its rooftop, valet cars lined the marble driveway, and renting a hall for a single night could cost over $10,000. Ordinary people didn’t even step foot inside; it was a playground for the children of the city’s richest families.

Edward’s assumption proved right the moment he arrived. The event was booked by Zayden Calloway, heir to one of the city’s biggest tech empires, and his friends—kids who didn’t know the meaning of a hard day’s work. But for Edward, it meant high tips. Just the kind he needed to get closer to Sylvara’s dream.

She had been obsessed with the Lunaris Bracelet for months. It wasn’t just a shiny trinket—it was a symbol. Everyone at Ravencroft College talked about it, and she had gushed about how it represented confidence, style, and independence. “I’ll wear it and feel unstoppable,” she’d said, her eyes sparkling as she scrolled through pictures online, “it’s like… magic.”

A few weeks ago was her birthday.

She wanted to try the legendary Maison de Lumière cake, priced at $35,000 per slice.

Edward had argued, begged, suggested something cheaper, but she had refused to compromise. Not out of arrogance, but because she deserved what made her happy. And he… he would bend the world itself if he had to, just to see her smile.

He shut the door behind him and felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

A message from her: "Baby, don’t disappoint me again."

He swallowed hard, his heart hammering. He wouldn’t. Not this time. Not ever.

Tonight, everything had to work out.

---

The hall was already shaking when Edward arrived. Music slammed against the walls so hard the ground felt alive under his feet. Bright neon lights flashed through the tall windows. Students crowded outside, screaming, filming, begging security to let them in.

Inside was worse.

Perfume mixed with sweat and sharp, expensive liquor. Smoke curled toward the ceiling. Everyone wore masks—gold, silver, feathered, glittering. Faces blurred into one wild, moving crowd.

Edward clocked in silently and grabbed a tray.

“Move fast, mutt,” the coordinator snapped, not even looking at him. “Don’t spill anything. These kids bite when they’re unhappy.”

Edward nodded. He swallowed the insult like he swallowed everything else. Then he stepped into the chaos.

Bodies pressed against him from every side. He moved carefully, balancing glasses of champagne that probably cost more than his monthly rent. Someone shoved him. A hand slapped his tray. A girl in a pink velvet mask snapped her fingers in his face.

“Refill. Now.”

He forced a tight smile and walked away before his anger showed.

Everywhere he turned, there were half-dressed girls grinding against boys who laughed too loudly. Moans tangled with music. Sharp screams of excitement cut through the air. It was messy. Wild. Out of control.

This isn’t normal, he thought. This isn’t how decent people live.

And for a brief second, gratitude filled him.

Sylvara wasn’t like this.

She once told him she wanted them to keep themselves for their wedding night.

He had respected that. He admired her for it. That night, she had leaned close, and whispered against his ear,

“Ed… I want our first time to mean something. I want it to be ours. Not borrowed from a careless moment.”

Her voice had been low, slow, almost teasing.

Goosebumps rose on his arms just remembering it.

The noise around him grew louder, but Edward focused. On the money. On her. On the Lunaris Bracelet.

He turned toward the VIP section with another tray of drinks when a sound slipped through the music.

A soft moan.

Not the wild kind echoing around the hall. This one was different.

It felt so familiar.

Edward froze mid-step.

No!

A name flashed into his mind. He shoved it away instantly.

Impossible. She wouldn’t be here. She hated places like this.

He forced his legs to move. One step. Two.

The sound came again. Louder this time. Sharper. It sliced straight through his chest.

His fingers tightened around the tray until the glasses rattled. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs.

It can’t be her.

He slowly turned his head toward the dark hallway leading to the private rooms behind the VIP lounge.

“I just need to confirm it isn’t who I think it is,” he muttered under his breath, trying to calm the storm rising inside him.

But even then, his heart hammered like a war drum in his chest, the pace of his breath quickening into ragged gasps that burned his throat. Edward's eyes landed on the sight, and his entire being froze, as if the world had slammed to a halt.

Quivering, he flinched backward a step, then another, his mind reeling. He pinched the skin on his arm hard enough to bruise, twisted his ankle in a desperate bid to jolt awake from this nightmare. But the pain was real, and so was the scene before him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then forced them open again. Maybe it was her lookalike—a doppelgänger in this den of debauchery. But deep down, he knew it was just another flimsy excuse. Even in a crowd of thousands, he'd pick out Slyvara any day, any time. And that was her.

His girlfriend, barely clothed, perched like a f*******n temptation on the lap of Zayden Calloway, the youngest heir to the Calloway Global conglomerate.

Her tiny black top clung to her like a second skin, barely containing the swell of her curves, the fabric so sheer it teased at what lay beneath. Her skirt was so short it looked painted on, riding up her thighs to reveal glimpses of lace that showed everything and hid nothing. Her makeup was smudged—lips swollen and glossy, eyeliner streaked like tears of ecstasy as if someone had been kissing her hard, devouring her with a hunger that left marks.

And Zayden had removed his own mask and hers. His hands were all over her, possessive and unyielding, one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her flush against him. The other focused firmly on the firm features of her chest—he cupped one breast boldly, his fingers digging in with a slow, deliberate squeeze that made her arch into his touch, her n****e hardening visibly under the thin fabric as he kneaded her flesh like dough, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger in teasing circles that drew a soft, breathy moan from her lips. The motion was rhythmic, insistent, each press sending ripples through her body, her hips grinding subtly against his lap in response.

No!

No, he had to be seeing wrong. This couldn't be Sylvara!

Edward took one slow step closer, the tray in his hands shaking violently, drinks splattering across his shirt in cold rivulets that soaked through to his skin.

Then another.

A girl close to him shouted over the loud music.

Her words were unclear because she had drunk too much. She laughed in a wild, playful way but there was something dangerous in that laughter that made Edward uneasy.

"Hey, where the hell are the condoms? Zayden's horny again! look at him, about to devour that little s**t right here if someone doesn't toss him one quick!" She cackled.

Sylvara suddenly raised her hand, her voice rushed, almost impatient.

Zayden let out a low chuckle and grabbed her chin lightly, forcing her to look at him.

“Seems my dirty little secret came prepared,” he said with a crooked smile.

Edward froze, unable to breathe. The air felt stuck in his lungs like a tight clamp.

Bang!

With a loud thud the tray slipped from his numb hands and crashed to the floor. The sound of breaking glass echoed, just like his heart shattering into sharp, broken pieces that scattered across the floor.

People quickly turned their heads toward the noise, curious to see what was happening.

Sylvara looked up, clearly annoyed that someone had interrupted her moment. But the second her eyes landed on him, her body went still.

Edward.

Shock flashed across her face for a split second. Her back straightened.

Then it disappeared.

There was no shame in her eyes. No guilt. No sign that she felt caught.

Only irritation.

Cold. Sharp irritation.

She looked at him like he was the problem. Like he had walked into a place he didn’t belong.

Her lips curved in clear dislike.

“Edward?” she said, her voice flat. “What are you doing here?”