The Lethal Revenge My Roommate Stole

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This time around, I started quietly dating the wealthiest heiress in Boston.

My roommate, Todd, had always possessed a taste in women that mirrored my own with sickening precision. In fact, he had deeply admired every single girlfriend Id ever had.

He used to tell me I was too naive, too blind to the manipulative ways of women. Out of the goodness of his heart, he offered to "test" them for me.

The result? Every single time, under the guise of looking out for his bro, he seduced them.

Once he had them wrapped around his finger, he would parade his victory in front of me with a smug grin. "See? I told you your radar is garbage. They were only after your money, Rowan. Good thing I was here to cut your losses!"

The last time he pulled that stunt, I beat him until his face was a mosaic of bruises.

So, when he found out about my new relationship with the billionaire heiress, I knew he wouldn't be able to help himself. He was already itching to make his move.

What Todd didnt know, however, was that this particular heiress was a meticulously crafted surprisewrapped and delivered specifically for him.

Todd was waving a Polaroid of my ex-girlfriend, Juliette, like it was a winning lottery ticket.

"When she was chasing you, she swore shed never love another man. Now? All I had to do was crook my finger, and she practically threw herself at me." He leaned back in his desk chair, tossing the photo onto my bed. "You should be thanking me, Rowan. You almost got played again."

My hands curled into tight fists. A hot, familiar spike of anger lodged in my chest.

"Youre literally bragging about being the other man," I said, my voice dangerously low. "Do you have any shame left at all?"

Todd blinked, feigning a look of profound hurt. "Come on, man. I was just worried about you getting used. Why do you always have to make me the villain?"

From across the room, our roommate Dustin immediately chimed in to defend him.

"Rowan, youre acting pathetic over a girl. Are you really going to nuke your friendship with your brother over some chick?"

"Seriously," Brad added from the top bunk, not even looking up from his phone. "If it weren't for Todd, you wouldve been taken to the cleaners by now. Hes doing you a favor by filtering out the gold-diggers."

I opened my mouth, but the words died in my throat.

It was true that my last five girlfriends hadnt exactly been saints, but was Todd any better? Before my last breakup, Id secretly checked Juliette's phone. Todd had flooded her DMs with thirst trapsshirts unbuttoned to his navel, gym mirror selfies. Hed even messaged her: "Want to come over and trace my V-cut?"

They were all sickening.

Todd leaned closer, the triumph practically oozing from his pores. "Youre not actually mad, are you? Honestly, I didnt even expect it. I just casually chatted them up, and they all caught feelings. You cant blame a guy for that, right?"

"Course not," Dustin echoed. "Its just your natural charm, man. Unlike some people who think getting straight A's means the whole world is going to fall at their feet."

Dustin and Brad exchanged a knowing, synchronized smirk.

I ignored their petty high school dynamics, turning my attention back to my phone.

The dorm room fell into a heavy silence for a few seconds. Then, Dustin let out a strangled gasp.

"Holy shit. Guys, come look. Is that who I think it is?" He practically flattened his face against the dirty glass of our balcony window, craning his neck toward the courtyard. "It's Sylvia! Sylvia Dupont! What the hell is the campus IT girl doing outside our building?"

Todd and Brad scrambled to their feet, rushing to the window.

"Damn, it really is her. Whats she doing here? Waiting for some guy?"

"God, whoever it is just won the lottery. Thats Sylvia Dupont. She basically owns half the biotech industry in this city."

Dustin suddenly turned to Todd, his eyes wide. "Wait, Todd, didnt you use to be tight with her? Does she have a guy now?"

Todds face tightened. The smugness vanished, replaced by a tense, ugly silence.

Tight with her. That was a generous way to phrase it. Todd had stalked Sylvia for six months, practically begging for her attention, and hadnt even managed to get her number.

I calmly grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.

Todds arm shot out, blocking my path. "I thought you just broke up with Juliette. Where do you think you're going?"

I slapped his arm away. "I dumped Juliette three months ago. If you want my trash, feel free to keep it."

Right on cue, my phone vibrated in my hand. I answered it immediately.

A cool, elegant voice drifted through the speaker. "Hey, baby. I'm downstairs."

"I'll be right there."

Before I could pull the phone away, it was snatched from my grip.

Todd glared at me. "No wonder you dropped Juliette. You already found a rebound." He brought the phone to his mouth, his voice dropping an octave into that slick, practiced tone he used on women. "Hey there. Im Rowans roommate, Todd. Are you his new girl?"

I didn't hear what the voice on the other end said, but Todds trademark smirk froze instantly.

Seizing the moment of his paralysis, I ripped the phone from his hand and ended the call.

A manic, ugly jealousy flared in Todds eyes. He stared at me like he wanted to peel my skin off. "Your new girlfriend... is Sylvia Dupont?"

"Bullshit," Dustin scoffed, stepping away from the window. "There's no way. Sylvia's standards are atmospheric. Why would she look twice at him?"

"Exactly," Brad agreed. "Guys with trust funds line up down the block for her. Rowan? Please."

Todd remained silent, but he had forcibly smoothed his features back into a mask of indifference. He looked me up and down. "You didn't just hire some random girl to impersonate Sylvia to mess with us, did you?"

I looked at his facea face that truly believed it had outsmarted the worldand a genuine laugh bubbled up in my chest.

"Believe whatever helps you sleep at night, Todd."

I didnt waste another breath on him. I turned and walked out, letting the door click shut behind me.

Down in the courtyard, Sylvia was leaning casually against a cherry-red Lamborghini. When she saw me, she offered a small, lazy wave.

The afternoon sunlight fractured through the elm trees, washing over her. She looked like a manifestation of old money and untouchable grace. No wonder Todd had obsessed over her for half a year.

And it was exactly for that reason that I had agreed to date her.

"Waiting long?" I asked.

"Just pulled up. Get in."

With practiced elegance, Sylvia opened the passenger door for me. As I slid into the low leather seat, I glanced up. In the third-floor window of my dorm, three faces were pressed against the glass, contorted with a jealousy so raw it was almost tragic.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

Sylvia took me to the indoor courts at an exclusive, members-only country club. The air smelled of expensive cedar and fresh tennis balls.

She stood behind me, her chest pressed lightly against my back, adjusting my grip on the racket.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Todd.

"Are you at the racket club?" his voice came through the line, tight and demanding.

I raised an eyebrow. The guy was like a phantom limb; an annoying, lingering itch. "What exactly do you want, Todd?"

He immediately slipped into his victim voice. "Wow, what's with the attitude? Im just looking out for you, man. I don't want you getting played."

"Sylvia isn't playing me. Do us both a favor and stop calling."

I dropped the temperature of my voice to freezing and hung up.

Sylvia stepped back, offering me a pristine white towel. She reached out, gently dabbing a bead of sweat from my temple. "Everything okay? Your roommate giving you grief?"

I took the towel. "Yeah. Someone's just losing his mind because my girlfriend is so far out of his league."

She let out a soft, breathy laugh and reached up to ruffle my hair.

A split second later, a tennis ball whipped through the air, slamming hard into the space between Sylvia's shoulder blades.

She winced, her perfectly manicured brows knitting together as she spun around.

Todd came jogging onto the court, his face a picture of exaggerated, frantic apology. "Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I totally miscalculated the swing. Are you okay?"

He leaned forward as he spoke. He was wearing a shirt unbuttoned halfway down his torso, making sure the slight flex of his chest was front and center.

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. Her gaze swept over his face, lingering for a fraction of a second on his exposed chest, before settling into a look of absolute, glacial boredom.

"I'm fine," she said flatly.

She grabbed my hand, turning to walk away.

Todd lunged, grabbing her forearm. "No, please, I feel terrible. Let me get your number. At least let me buy you a new tennis skirt or dinner to make up for it."

Sylvia glanced down at his hand on her arm. A flicker of genuine disgust rippled through her eyes.

"That won't be necessary. I don't give my number to strangers."

She turned back to me, the ice instantly melting from her features, replaced by a warm, honeyed gaze. "I'm sorry the vibe got ruined, baby. Let's go. I'll make it up to you tonight."

I smiled, casting a deeply satisfied look over my shoulder at Todd.

He was rooted to the spot, his face a sickly shade of gray.

My previous girlfriends would have politely declined him in front of me, sure. But I had always seen the hidden heat in their eyes. The secret thrill. And later, when I wasn't looking, they always accepted his follow requests.

Todd thought women were a monolith. He thought they were all the same.

What a shame for him. This time, hed run straight into Sylvia Duponta woman who couldn't even be bothered to look at him twice.

I was extremely satisfied with Sylvia.

Satisfied to the point where, for a fleeting moment, I almost believed she might actually be the exception.

But sometimes, reality has a way of slapping you in the face when you least expect it.

It happened on the day of the university's theater rehearsals. I dropped by the auditorium to surprise her.

I found her sitting in the dim lighting of the back rows, her shoulder pressed intimately against Todds. She was holding a plastic cup of iced coffee. She took a sip.

Then, Todd leaned in, his lips wrapping around the exact same straw she had just used. He took a long drag.

Without missing a beat, Sylvia took the cup back and drank from the very same straw.

A violent, high-pitched ringing erupted in my ears.

Sylvia glanced up and saw me. She froze for a fraction of a second. She followed my gaze, her eyes landing on the plastic straw.

"Todd has low blood sugar," she said smoothly, her voice completely even. "He almost passed out on stage twice. I just want to get through this rehearsal without holding up the entire cast."

With that, she shoved the rest of the iced coffee into Todds hands. "Finish it and get back on stage."

Todd took the cup. He took another agonizingly slow sip, locking eyes with me. A filthy, victorious smile spread across his face.

"Your girl is a tough crowd, Rowan," he whispered as he walked past me. "Takes a lot to get her pulse up." He clapped my shoulder. "Looks like you finally found a keeper."

He walked away, his posture radiating the same arrogant swagger Id seen a dozen times before.

I stood paralyzed in the aisle, my heart hammering furiously against my ribs.

I knew that look. That absolute, predatory certainty. I knew it intimately.

Sensing the shift in my demeanor, Sylvia stood up and wrapped her arms around my waist. "Baby, don't overthink this."

"The guy playing the lead got into a car accident. Todd stepped in at the last minute to save the production. Its a favor I owe him, nothing more."

I nodded slowly, pulling her tightly against my chest.

"Do you know... Todd has this thing about my girlfriends," I murmured into her hair, letting my voice waver just enough. "He stole the last few. I'm just terrified that youll..."

She squeezed me harder. "Hey. Look at me. The only man I love is you. Forever."

The words had barely left her mouth when her phone buzzed on the velvet seat.

I caught a glimpse of the screen. A text from Todd.

She glanced at it quickly, then pulled away from my embrace. "I have to get back to the crew. I'll find you later, okay?"

I watched her walk away, feeling my heart sink, millimeter by millimeter, into my stomach.

I thought Sylvia was different. But it had barely taken a week for him to get her number.

Over the next few days, Sylvia clearly sensed my manufactured depression. To cheer me up, she announced she was taking me out on her familys yacht to introduce me to her inner circle of friends.

I decided to play along and give her "one more chance."

The yacht was sprawling and extravagant, the teak deck lined with crystal champagne flutes and artisanal pastries.

Sylvia paraded me around. "Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Rowan."

Her friendsa flock of polished girls in designer resort wearsmiled and offered polite, airy greetings. The vibe was decent enough.

After the obligatory pleasantries, the conversation inevitably drifted to the Dupont familys empire.

"Hows the new pharmaceutical R&D coming along?" one of the girls asked.

Sylvias flawless forehead creased. "Weve hit a massive wall with one of the chemical synthesis stages. If I could just get a consultation with Dr. Alistair Roth, the cardiac specialist, we could push through. If this drags on any longer, all of our initial funding is going to vaporize."

Before the sentence was fully in the air, a familiar, grating voice chimed in.

"Dr. Alistair Roth?"

Todd strolled onto the deck, holding a glass of Mo?t, smiling like he owned the boat.

"I know him," Todd said smoothly. "My aunt is a senior pharmaceutical rep. Shes had dinner with Dr. Roth a bunch of times. If you need an intro, I can make it happen."

Sylvias head snapped up. A spark of genuine surpriseand calculationflashed in her eyes.

I stood slightly behind her, my fingers slowly curling into fists by my sides.

Every ounce of Sylvias attention had been magnetically pulled to Todd.

While they dove into a rapid, intense conversation about biotech connections, I quietly slipped my phone from my pocket. I opened a text thread with an unsaved number.

"The fish took the bait. Execute the plan."