When the Good Girl Sin

Chapter 6 - Lies

POPPY

I woke up to the sunlight streaming through the window, its warmth brushing against my face. As I tried to move, I felt something heavy pressing down on me, keeping me still.

And then it hit me.

Last night... Kai and I—we did it.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, only to find him still asleep beside me. Despite the tattoos that marked his body, his face looked calm, almost peaceful in slumber. I didn’t know why, but the sight of it made me smile.

But then reality crept back in. This was supposed to be just for fun. I wasn’t supposed to care how peaceful he looked while he slept.

Demi was right—someone like Kai, he’s the kind of guy who can give you the thrill you crave. And last night was more than just fun. I didn’t regret giving him my virginity, not even for a one-night stand.

Last night…

It felt so real. The way he touched me—rough, yet somehow laced with care—knowing full well it was my first time.

It hurt at first. Of course it did. But he was gentle in the moments that mattered, patient in the way only someone who truly saw me could be. Slowly, the sharp sting faded, replaced by something else entirely—need. Hunger. Lust.

I never imagined my first time would feel like that. Especially after hearing Demi and Lara talk about how awful theirs had been.

But for me? It was perfect.

After that first time, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We did it again in his living room, right after sharing some snacks. Then in the kitchen, after we cleaned up. And again in the bathroom.

So that explains why I’m sore now.

Sore… but deeply satisfied. Fulfilled, in a way I didn’t even know I craved.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand and realized it was turned off. I didn’t even remember when I’d shut it down.

Once it powered back on, I quickly opened the camera app and took a photo of him while he was still asleep.

I didn’t really know why—maybe just for a little remembrance. This would be the first and last time I’d ever wake up next to him. It felt fair, in a way. He took a photo of me last night. This one would be mine.

The soft click of the shutter must’ve stirred him, because moments later, he blinked his eyes open, still halfway lidded from sleep—but he smiled. If he was sinfully attractive at night, then in the morning, with sunlight spilling over his features, he looked… exquisite.

“Keeping a picture of me, Poppy?” His voice was thick, still edged with sleep.

I smiled. “You kept one of me too, remember? Last night—the photo.”

My phone started chiming over and over again, but I hadn’t checked the notifications yet. Kai glanced toward it, his expression shifting—concern flickering in his eyes.

Then he looked back at me, pulled me close by the waist, and nudged me until I was pressed against him. I laughed, breathless from the sudden motion. “I could keep you like this forever.”

I leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, teasing, “Catching feelings already, Kai Thorn? This was supposed to be just a one-night stand.”

He grinned, lazy and wicked. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you won’t forget me after the way I f****d you last night.”

My cheeks flamed instantly, hot enough to put a tomato to shame. Just the memory of what we did—and how wild it got—was enough to make me want to hide under the sheets.

My phone rang, slicing through the intense gaze Kai and I were locked in.

I glanced at the screen—it was Demi. And the number of missed calls she had left me made my stomach twist.

What’s going on?

I sat up, about to call her back, but the call ended before I could press the button.

Moments later, Kai’s phone started ringing.

“Is that Demi?” I asked, watching his expression shift.

He looked down at the screen. “Yeah,” he replied, answering the call. “Hey—yeah, she’s with me.”

I watched closely as worry crept into his face, quickly followed by a flicker of anger… and something else—annoyance, maybe?

Whatever Demi was saying on the other end, it wasn’t good.

Kai glanced at me, reached out, and took my hand, his grip firm and grounding.

What the hell is happening?

“—Okay, I’ll try,” he said into the phone. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

He ended the call, his eyes not leaving mine.

"What's happening?" I pressed.

Kai reached for my phone, gently taking it from my lap.

“How about this,” he said softly, trying for a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s leave our phones in the bedroom and make breakfast together. It’s been so long since I’ve had a homemade meal.”

He was trying to sound casual, but I could see it—something was off. His smile faltered at the edges. He was worried. Hiding something.

I glanced at my screen. Notifications were piling up like a silent alarm. My gut twisted. He was keeping something from me. I knew it.

I took my phone back from him and stood up.

“Poppy—” he pleaded gently, but I ignored it.

As soon as I rose from the bed, the screen lit up with hundreds of missed calls—my mom, Bret… all blowing up my phone.

And then one message from Marilyn.

“What did you do this time, Penelope."

“Where are you, Penelope?”

“Answer me.”

“You can’t fix this by disappearing. Your career is on the line here.” Texts from Bret.

What are they even talking about? Did the news of my breakup with Alex already leak to the media?

Then messages from Demi;

“Pen, stay where you are right now.”

"Don’t leave with Kai—he knows what to do.”

“Stay with Kai.”

“Poppy—” Kai was about to stand, but I raised a hand, stopping him.

He stayed seated on the edge of the bed, then quietly reached for me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind as I stood there, frozen.

I opened the news article.

And the world shifted.

"Alex Stanfield breaks silence on his breakup with Phenomenal Star and long-time girlfriend, Penelope Lake; claims of abuse, manipulation, and controlling behavior surface.”

Beneath the headline were countless photos—Alex with bruises, cuts, scratches. Medical records. Psychologist reports. A crafted narrative—neatly packaged and deadly.

What. The. f**k.

I wanted to throw up. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. That was supposed to be *me*—the one who was hurt. Not him.

But now… I was the villain.

Tears began to spill down my cheeks, my hands trembling uncontrollably as panic started clawing at my nerves.

“No… This isn’t true. That’s not true,” I whispered, voice breaking.

Kai stood quickly, placing both hands gently on my face, trying to steady me. “I know. I know,” he repeated softly, kissing the top of my head. “I know, Poppy. I know.”

I broke down when he pulled me into a tight embrace. I sobbed into his chest.

“He’s such a liar,” I cried. “That’s not him—he’s not the victim. I don’t even know where he got those photos. Oh my God. My dad’s going to kill me.”

Kai pulled back slightly, confused. “What?”

I shook my head and pulled away from his arms, my fingers fumbling as I dialed Bret’s number. He answered almost immediately, his voice frantic.

“Bret—I swear, none of it’s true,” I said, breathless through my sobs. “I don’t know how he got those medical records or those psych visits. He dumped me last night. For *Erika Delacroix*.”

“Penelope, this is bad,” Bret said on the other end, voice tight with tension. “All his medical records—from hospitals and psychiatrists—they go back five months. They're… they’re legit.”

I broke. My knees gave out as I sank onto the floor, clutching at my hair in pure frustration. “Bret—he started cheating on me six months ago,” I choked out, sobbing harder. “I never laid a hand on him. *Ever*. He was the one hurting me—for over a year now. He choked me. Pulled my hair. Slapped me. Shoved me—”

“What did he do?!” Kai’s voice exploded above me. He was in front of me in an instant, crouching down, fury written all over his face. “What the f**k did you just say he did to you?!”

“Who’s with you, Penelope?” Bret asked urgently over the phone.

I raised a hand to Kai, motioning for him to wait. I turned away, trying to focus on the call—but Kai snatched the phone from my hand and threw it across the room before I could stop him.

“Kai—” I gasped, stunned.

“What did he do to you?” he demanded, his voice lower now, deadly serious. “Tell me. *All of it*.”

I looked away, anywhere but at him. This was the first time I was about to tell someone the truth. The real truth.

“He’s the abuser,” I said quietly, almost like a confession. “Not me.”