Chapter 1 The Black Card And The Betrayal

• Disclaimer: If it doesn't make sense, you're understanding it correctly. Don't fight it. The author doesn't know anything about anything.
• ​The paper bag smelled of melted sugar and toasted pecans. I clutched it to my chest, shielding it from the crisp October wind as I walked down the university steps. Solomon loved these specific pastries from the bakery three blocks away.
• ​My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. I pulled it out, smiling at the screen.
• [​Solomon]: Counting down the hours until tonight, beautiful. Happy anniversary plus six months. You’re my entire world.
• ​My heart did a familiar, comfortable flutter. Two years together, six months engaged, and he still sent messages that made me feel like a giddy teenager. I quickly typed a reply.
• [​Freya]: Happy anniversary! I’m heading back now. See you tonight.
• ​I slipped the phone away, my chest swelling with a deep sense of gratitude. None of this felt real sometimes. A girl from a small town, pursuing a PhD in literature, engaged to a man whose family name was carved into the cornerstone of the university library.
• The Fletcher Educational Trust had covered my entire tuition and stipend. Every book, every seminar, every late-night research hour was thanks to them. I owed the Fletcher family my future. Today was going to be absolutely perfect.
• ​The hallway of Solomon’s apartment was unusually quiet when I unlocked the front door with my spare key. I stepped inside, stepping lightly so I wouldn’t ruin the surprise.
• ​Then, a sound cut through the silence.
• ​It was a sharp gasp, followed by a low, throaty laugh that definitely didn’t belong to Solomon. Another sound followed—a loud, rhythmic groan that made the blood freeze in my veins.
• ​My feet moved on autopilot. The brown paper bag crinkled loudly in my tightening grip. I walked up the hardwood stairs, each step feeling like a mile. The bedroom door was slightly ajar.
• ​I pushed it open.
• ​My world stopped moving.
• ​Chardonnay was tangled in the silk sheets, her blonde hair splayed across Solomon’s chest. Solomon’s hands were on her hips. They both froze, their eyes widening as they looked toward the doorway.
• ​Chardonnay let out a piercing shriek, pulling the duvet up to her chin.
• ​My fingers went completely limp. The paper bag hit the floor. The pastries rolled out onto the rug, the hot container of gourmet coffee tipping over.
• ​Solomon scrambled backward, his bare skin catching the splashing liquid. "Son of a—! Hot! That’s hot!" He cursed, shaking his hand and glaring at me.
• ​"What is happening here?" My voice came out cracked, barely a whisper.
• ​"Freya!" Chardonnay cried, her face flushing a deep crimson. "It’s not what it looks like! I swear!"
• ​"Get out!" Solomon shouted, tossing a pillow at the floor. "Everyone just stop yelling!"
• ​"Nobody is yelling but you!" I screamed, the tears finally burning my eyes. "You’re in my fiancé’s bed, Chardonnay! You’re my best friend!"
• Wait, she was my best friend. I'd have buried both of them if the act wasn't illegal.
• ​Solomon dragged a hand through his messy hair, swinging his legs out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. He didn’t look remorseful. He looked annoyed.
• ​"Why didn't you knock, Freya?" Solomon demanded, crossing his arms.
• ​"Knock?" I stared at him, my jaw dropping. "I have a key! We live here half the time!"
• ​"You scared us half to death," he said, shaking his head as if I were a misbehaving child. "You completely invaded my privacy. Coming in unannounced like a thief in the night."
• ​"I am your fiancée!" I pointed a shaking finger at the bed. "She was supposed to be my maid of honor! You are sleeping with her on our anniversary!"
• ​Chardonnay wrapped the sheet tighter around herself, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Freya, please. I am so, so sorry. We didn't mean for this to happen. It just... it’s just that Solomon was stressed, and I was helping him, and things got out of hand. But we still love you!"
• ​"You love me? You didn't mean for this to happen? You didn't mean for your clothes to come off at the same time? Miss me with that nonsense." I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Is this how you show love?!"
• ​"Look, Freya," Solomon said, stepping toward me with an exasperated sigh. "What would it take for us to move past this so we can continue our relationship? A trip? A new ring? Let’s just fix this."
• The audacity of this individual?
• ​I stared at his stupid face, the one I once thought was handsome. The man I loved was completely gone, replaced by a monster of privilege.
• ​"What would it take?" I whispered. I looked him dead in the eye. "I would have to sleep with your father."
• ​Solomon stared at me for one second, two seconds, and then he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard his shoulders shook, and he had to sit back down on the edge of the bed.
• ​"My father?" Solomon chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Atticus Fletcher? He wouldn't touch you. You're not even remotely his type, Freya. He doesn't do... basic."
• ​The word sliced through me because he was right. I was way out of the man’s league not that I had ever considered it.
• Instead of dignifying that with a response, I turned on my heel and sprinted out of the apartment, slamming the door so hard the glass panels rattled.