Chapter 4: Class Reunion Ambush

The live comments are gleeful: the crowd wants blood.

[Only the sister could figure out the Alpha lost his memory and bring his old classmates to expose the villainess’s lies!]

[Here we go, let’s see how the villainess gets out of this one!]

“Isn’t this the famous beauty, Mallory?” one guy sneers. “When did you get back? Didn’t even tell your old friends?” The sarcasm is thick.

Another jumps in, voice cold and bitter. He’s holding a grudge the size of a stadium.

“Ran off with a rich guy after dumping the top student. Now that he’s made it big, you’re back?”

“Alpha, we really feel for you!” They play the pity card.

They’re not bad-looking, but next to Colton, they’re nothing. He’s gravity; they’re lint.

I rack my brain, then say blankly, keeping my tone innocent enough to drive them nuts.

“Who are you guys?”

The guys immediately lose it. Here we go again.

“Don’t play dumb! You don’t remember us?” Their outrage is practically a performance.

Their nostrils flare, faces flush, expressions twisted—they honestly look like a pack of toads! I didn’t say it out loud, but my face probably did.

Startled, I instinctively lean back, almost hitting my head on the bed’s headboard. Luckily, Colton is quick and shields my head. Reflexes like a guardian.

His concern is obvious. It rattles me.

“You okay?”

I finally remember and point at them one by one. The names come trickling back, more noise than meaning.

“You’re Steve-something, you’re Grant… and you, aren’t you the guy from the sports academy next door?” I turn to Colton, playing the victim. “They all chased after me and, when they failed, spread rumors about me.” I toss the truth into the blender and let it spin.

“You!”

All three men turn green, not daring to curse me out with Colton right there, eyeing them like a wolf about to pounce. He makes empty bravado feel suicidal.

“Honey—they’re bullying me.” I tuck into his side like I belong there.

…

The chubby ringleader can’t take it anymore. He puffs up like a toad with something to prove.

“Give back the bracelet I gave you, you thief!”

I dive into Colton’s arms. If they want a show, I’ll give them one.

“Honey!”

Colton has some serious control-freak tendencies. He seems very pleased with me seeking protection, stroking my hair with one hand and grabbing the chubby guy’s wrist with the other. With just a squeeze, the guy howls in pain. It’s a warning disguised as politeness.

“Ow, ow, ow—”

Colton frowns in disgust and tosses him aside. Human projectile.

“How much was it? I’ll pay.” His voice is all steel.

I peek out from his arms, winking smugly at the heroine, Cassie, who’s seething in the back. Her composure is falling apart.

She loses it on the spot. She didn’t bring a crew just to watch me get cuddled.

She went to all this trouble to bring the old classmates to expose me, not to watch Colton protect me! Her plan is dying right there on the hospital tile.

She starts whining, radiating fake innocence. She’s weaponizing the act.

“Mallory, you can’t say that. Didn’t you always post photos on Instagram, saying you liked something, so your admirers would bring you gifts?”

“And you threw away the necklace the class president worked for months to buy you—” She pushes the story like it’s gospel.

She claps a hand over her mouth, acting like she’s let something slip, her expression perfectly panicked. She’s got this routine down.

She really missed her calling at drama school. The girl could star in a sitcom.

“Then why don’t you post? No one giving you gifts?” I ask, deadpan. It lands like a slap.

Cassie freezes, then scrambles to defend herself. Flustered looks good on her in the worst way.

“What are you talking about! I’m not the kind of woman who accepts gifts from just anyone!”

I give her a meaningful look. It’s surgical.

“Did you not go to Yale or Harvard because you didn’t want to?” I don’t blink.

Cassie’s face turns green. Status panic is funny that way.