Expelled, Betrayed, and $100M Richer

"Die! You poor, worthless student!"

Before Ethan could even understand what was going on, a heavy, brutal fist smashed straight into his face. The violent blow snapped his head back into the slush, splitting his lip and filling his mouth with a warm taste of his blood. Stars flashed behind his eyes, but the physical agony was nothing compared to the deep, shattering pain in his chest.

The rain fell hard on the ground of Westley Academy, mixing with the tears streaming down his bruised cheeks. Ethan was pinned flat in the mud, heavy boots holding his legs tight so he could not move. He had worked double shifts until his hands bled, sacrificing every single meal and hour of sleep just to buy that small velvet box for Chloe—the only person who made him feel human in a school full of bully students. 

Julian smiled a mean, ugly smile and leaned down close. He grabbed Ethan's hand and started pulling his fingers open, one by one. Ethan tried with all his might to hold on to the necklace, his broken fingers shaking as he tried to protect the necklace he had spent over two years of his savings to buy for the love of his life.

But Julian twisted his wrist hard until Ethan's grip finally snapped wide open. Julian grabbed the small velvet box from Ethan's hand and held it up high in the rain. 

"A poor scholarship student like you has no place near the school boutique shop, and you certainly cannot afford to buy a five-hundred-dollar necklace," Julian said, shaking the box in Ethan's face. "Tell everyone the truth, Ethan. Who did you steal this from? Better talk now before I lose my patience”. 

"I didn't steal anything!" Ethan choked out, his voice breaking. His chest hurt so much as he tried to push the heavy boot off his leg. He spat out the muddy water and looked up, tears mixing with the rain on his face. "Please, just give it back! I bought it with my own money!"

Julian laughed right in his face, a loud, ugly sound that echoed across the wet courtyard. 

"Your own money? You don't even have a single dollar. You really expect us to believe a poor kid like you bought a five-hundred-dollar necklace?"

"He's lying, Julian!" Garrett, Julian's best friend sneered, pressing his heavy boot down harder on Ethan's leg. "Kids from the slums only know how to steal. He probably grabbed it when the store clerk wasn't looking."

From one humiliation to another, this has been the fate of Ethan since the day he stepped his feet on the prestigious Westley academy through a scholarship. 

As a nobody who has nothing added to his name, he is constantly looked down on, mocked, humiliated and bullied. 

In the entire academy, all the students despise him, except only one person, the key to his heart, his lover, and the only truthful person who genuinely loves him despite his poor background- Chloe. 

Julian stood up slowly and tossed the velvet box from hand to hand.

"Brett is right, Ethan. Westley Academy has standards, and thieves do not belong here. Why come here when you can not afford the things that are here. You need to learn that fine things are only meant for your betters."

Julian tossed the scuffed velvet box onto the wet pavement. It bounced across the stones, scraping along the puddles until it splashed near the iron drain. Julian stepped back and signaled his friends with a sharp wave of his hand.

"Teach this leech a proper lesson so he never touches what is not his," Julian commanded coldly, turning his face away from the rain. "Make sure he remembers who runs this academy."

Before Ethan could move, a heavy boot slammed straight into his ribs. A sharp crack echoed in his chest, and all the air was ripped violently from his lungs. Agony flared through his side, forcing him to curl tightly into the dirty slush as tears mixed with the rain.

"Stay down in the mud where you belong, thief," Garrett sneered, delivering another brutal kick to Ethan's leg with a harsh laugh as the other boys rained down vicious punches and heavy blows all over his bruised body. "If we ever catch you stealing on campus again, we will beat the hell out of you before handling you to the police”. 

Julian turned away without looking back. With slow, arrogant steps, he led his laughing friends away from the muddy courtyard.

Gasping for air and coughing up water, Ethan struggled against the pain. His chest was burning, but he forced his trembling elbows to lift his upper body out of the mud.

Coughing through the hurt in his ribs, Ethan scrambled across the flooded stones on his hands and knees. The icy water soaked straight through his thin clothes, but his eyes stayed locked on the small box resting near the iron drain.

He reached the edge of the puddle and stretched his shaking fingers out across the wet gravel. He scooped the battered velvet box out of the dirty water, pulling it against his chest as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. And it really was. 

With trembling, clumsy thumbs, Ethan pried the wet lid of the box open to look inside. The small silver pendant rested safely on the wet fabric, completely untouched by the mud. The delicate silver chain sparkled faintly under the dim streetlights, completely unbroken.

A small sob of relief escaped Ethan's throat as he touched the silver necklace. "It is still here," he whispered, wiping mud from his eyelashes. "The pendant is safe. Chloe, your gift is still safe."

He snapped the box shut and slid it deep inside his coat pocket. Using the fence beside the path, Ethan dragged his battered body up onto his feet. His knees shook violently, but he refused to stay down.

Trembling with exhaustion, bruised, and soaked to the bone, he dragged himself up and began the agonizing walk back through the storm to his off-campus apartment. Every step sent a sharp jolt through his ribs, but he pressed his arm tight to steady the pain.

He clung tightly to the velvet box as his only source of warmth during the long, bitter walk. Tonight was their anniversary, and Chloe was the single uncorrupted light left in his world. When everyone at Westley Academy looked down on him, Chloe was the only one who loved and cared for him.

"Just keep walking, Ethan," he told himself aloud as the cold wind whipped across his face. "Just make it home to Chloe. She will be waiting with hot tea, and everything will be fine once she puts the pendant on."

He let out a gentle, faint smile, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.

“What a good day to be alive,” he whispered, his bruised lips trembling. “I can't wait to see the bright, happy smile light up her beautiful face when I give her the necklace”.

He pushed through the wind until he reached his old apartment building. He shoved the cracked glass door open, stepping inside. 

The building caretaker, Mr. Henderson, looked up from his broom with wide, surprised eyes.

"Good heavens, Ethan, what happened to you?" the old man asked, staring at Ethan's bloody cheek and dripping coat. "Did someone attack you when you were coming? You look like you can barely stand on your feet, son."

"I slipped on the ice near campus, Mr. Henderson," Ethan lied quietly, holding his aching ribs with one trembling hand. "I am fine, really. I just need to get upstairs to my apartment."

Ethan smiled gently, lowering his voice so as not to alert his girlfriend of his arrival.

"Alright then," the caretaker said, shaking his head with a slight frown. "Make sure you use some medication. I am heading back into town now, and I will be away for a month. Just contact me on my phone if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mr. Henderson. I will," Ethan replied softly, turning toward the dim stairwell.

As he began the slow, painful climb up the steps of Apartment 4B, every muscle in his body screamed in agony from the beatdown. 

Yet, despite the throbbing pain in his ribs and the water still dripping from his clothes, a warm feeling bloomed in his chest. With each heavy step he dragged upward, his mind drifted entirely to Chloe. 

He pictured the joyful look in her eyes and the way she would gently tend to his bruises, her sweet laughter washing away all the harsh cruelty of the day. He couldn't wait to see her face when he finally placed the velvet box in her hands.

Reaching the narrow stairwell of Apartment 4B, Ethan limped up the steps, every muscle aching from the beatdown. The old wooden stairs groaned under his wet boots, each step sending sharp pain through his ribs.

He gripped the railing tightly, forcing himself upward flight after flight.

When he reached the fourth floor, his boots froze. His front door stood slightly ajar, spilling warm amber light into the cold hallway.

Along with the light came the distinct sounds of muffled giggles and rustling satin sheets from his bedroom. Ethan stood paralyzed, Chloe's playful laughter slicing straight through him like ice.

"Stop pulling the quilt, you brute," Chloe giggled breathlessly. "You're going to spill the whiskey on my favorite satin sheets, and Ethan will notice the stain the moment he gets home."

"Stop pulling the quilt, you brute," Chloe's voice giggled from inside the bedroom, breathless and teasing. "You are going to spill the whiskey all over my favorite satin sheets, and Ethan will notice the stain the moment he comes home."

"Who cares about that poor idiot?" a man's gruff voice answered with a careless laugh. "Let him notice. What can a penniless scholarship leech do about it anyway? He doesn't have the guts to say a word to me."

"You're so mean to him," Chloe laughed softly as the bed springs groaned. "He used two whole years of savings to buy me an anniversary gift. What a pathetic, broke lover boy!"

The man let out a rough, eager chuckle, pulling her body flush against his with heavy hands. 

"You really are shameless, aren't you?" he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. "Forget about that pathetic fool. If you want another round, you'd better earn it." 

He silenced her playful gasp with a harsh, demanding kiss, greedy hands entangling in her hair as they sank back into the rumpled satin sheets.

A cold dread washed over Ethan, drowning out the pain in his ribs. Pushing the door open with quiet hesitation, Ethan stepped into the way, his hand tightening around the scuffed velvet box in his pocket as he moved toward the bedroom door.

He pushed the bedroom door open and froze instantly, the air ripped from his lungs. There, under the soft glow of the lamp, Chloe lay wrapped in the sheets beneath another man, her bare shoulders flushed and breathless.

And as the man turned his head with a lazy, cynical smirk, Ethan saw Marcus—his own father—lying in bed with his ‘faithful’ girlfriend.