Chapter 1

Mason Vance was an infamous player on campus. He was drop-dead gorgeous, insanely wealthy, and had courting down to a science.

In less than two months, he had dated practically every type of girl at our university.

The straight-A bookworms, the gorgeous campus queens, the sweet and gentle souls.

I was the only one he spent two months chasing without ever catching.

Everyone thought I would be the good girl to finally tame the bad boy.

Only I knew the truth: he never actually loved me.

So much so that much later, with bloodshot eyes and broken pride, he trapped me against a brick wall.

"Elena, I really loved you. But you... you really don't have a heart, do you?"

I looked up at him, my expression completely blank. "What do you mean?"

Mason made waves the very day he arrived on campus as a freshman.

Unfortunately, my first impression of him was terrible. My immediate thought was: Who does he think he is?

He was insanely attractive, pulled decent grades, and came from an absurdly elite family.

Even our academic advisor, who was notoriously ruthless and denied excused absences to everyone, treated him with sickening deference.

Whenever they crossed paths, the advisor would plaster on a greasy smile. "If you ever need anything at all, Mason, just shoot me an email."

What could Mason Vance possibly need? He didn't lack money, connections, or girlfriends.

Everyone bent over backward to suck up to him.

Everyone except me.

Countless rumors circulated about why he suddenly set his sights on me.

Some said he lost a bet. Others claimed it was because I was the campus legend - the untouchable, ice-cold valedictorian, the good girl who was completely out of reach - and he just wanted to drag me down from my pedestal.

Others said it was precisely my unapproachable chill that made me the ultimate challenge.

Whichever reason it was, I didn't care to investigate. I was far too busy.

I had to maintain a 4.0 to keep my academic scholarship. I had to juggle part-time jobs to pay my tuition.

And I had to rack up hours in student council and honor societies to boost my resume.

Whenever I said I wasn't interested in Mason, nobody believed me.

They thought I was acting aloof, playing hard to get.

Whispers followed me everywhere:

"Girl, that's Mason Vance. Stop playing games. Being with him means you could skip ten years of grinding."

It was true. Marrying into the Vance family was a pipedream for half the girls on the East Coast.

But I saw right through it. He had zero real feelings for me. Even if I caved, I would just end up being another checkmark on his long list of exes.

Mason pursued me with theatrical, overwhelming aggression.

I have no idea how he tracked down my address.

Every Monday morning, as soon as I walked out of my crumbling, rundown apartment building, I would find him lingering by the curb.

Mason usually had a private chauffeur to drive him around.

For a long stretch, an ultra-luxury sports car I couldn't even name was perpetually parked at the mouth of our narrow, cracked alleyway.

I quickly became the favorite gossip topic among my low-income neighbors.

"Elena, sweetie, who's that guy? He looks filthy rich."

Glancing at the tall, sharp silhouette leaning casually against the sleek hood, I said quietly, "No idea."

"Elena, come on, I'm here to drive you to campus," he called out.

I treated him like empty air and walked straight past.

This went on for weeks. One afternoon, my elderly neighbor, Mr. Henderson, stopped me. "Elena, could you tell your friend to stop parking that massive car in the alley? I can't even get my delivery van through."

They say if you can't beat someone, you can at least avoid them.

Mason Vance proved that you couldn't even avoid him.

When I told him to stop bringing his car, he showed up on a bicycle instead.

An ultra-custom designer bike that probably cost more than my entire tuition.

"What the hell do you actually want?" I demanded, my expression icy.

"You already know," he said with an infuriating smirk. "Be my girlfriend."

"Mason, I don't have time to play your games. Stop wasting your energy on me."