You ever wake up and realize today’s the day you die… by coochie?

Yeah. That’s kinda how my life’s been going since she walked into it.

I’m 19. I’m a nobody. A walking GPA with thick glasses, zero game, and let’s be honest — I look like I run an anime fan club (I do).

Then she showed up.

New transfer. Hot like sin. Designer everything. Rich beyond reason. Body that could ruin nations. And attitude? Yandere-levels of psycho. The kind of girl that makes guys sell kidneys just for her Snap.

I helped her once. Just once.

Now she’s obsessed with me. And I don’t mean “aw cute” obsessed — I mean the “if I look at another girl she might actually stab someone” kind.

She’s smart. Manipulative. Dangerous. And somehow?
She says I’m the one she wants.

No one believes me, and I wish I didn’t believe it either. But then she started showing up uninvited. Sitting on my lap in class. Whispering filth in my ear. Sabotaging any girl who even breathes near me.

Now I’ve got three goals:

1. Survive.
2. Graduate.
3. Not lose my V-card under suspicious, possibly criminal circumstances.


This isn’t romance.
This is psychological warfare with hormones.

The week had been unfolding smoothly for us at Gray & Milton, almost suspiciously so. After the chaos caused by Moreau Dynamics' revised operational model, the quiet rhythm of focused work felt almost foreign. We'd begun restructuring our freight optimization model, revising subcontractor analyses, and adjusting cost projections based on the new government specifications for the Meridian Development Initiative.


Chapter 214 - The Weight of Legacy