Chapter 2The Roster Queen

It took Phoebe a week to scrape the cash together.

In the meantime, I had carefully selected which of my current prospects I would pass on—the fish I was ready to release back into the stream.

“Ashton Lennox, 21 years old, six-foot-two, eight-pack abs,” I recited, handing her a burner phone and a gaming console account. “He’s a student at the university across town, from a very average background. We met playing this game.”

I continued my detailed briefing, every word a subtle lie designed to maintain the narrative I’d created.

“He occasionally buys me takeout coffee—the gifts never cost more than thirty bucks. His parents’ messy divorce left him with serious attachment issues. He's very sensitive and needs constant reassurance.”

I looked her dead in the eye, offering the full customer-service rundown. “I’ve established myself as the ‘Gentle, Understanding Older Woman.’ You have to maintain that persona and give him all the security he craves.”

[Hahaha, the villainess still thinks the main guy is just a poor college student. Our Ashton is just testing her—he hates gold-diggers, so he acts broke!]

[To think Skylar spent all that time only to get a few cheap coffee orders, and our girl Phoebe gets everything for free! I can’t stop laughing!]

Phoebe’s lips curled into a smug half-smile. The moment the accounts were hers, she changed the passwords.

She gave me a pointed, triumphant look. “Skylar, when I’ve got this guy secured, you’re going to be so sorry you let him go.”

I smiled sweetly. “I won’t regret it. I only hope you don’t.”

Phoebe just scoffed, dismissing me. She immediately logged in and began chatting with "Ashton."

For the next few weeks, Phoebe was inseparable from her phone, either texting him or playing the game with him. The imaginary commentary confirmed that things were going well: Ashton hadn't noticed the switch. Phoebe, guided by the online cheerleaders, was slowly erasing my digital footprint and meticulously executing the seduction plan.

A fortnight later, Phoebe walked into our dorm room.

The first thing I noticed was the dazzling sparkle on her neck—a massive diamond necklace.

She immediately noticed my stare, tossing her head back with a triumphant smirk.

“Ashton bought me this necklace,” she announced. “I looked it up online. It’s worth over two million dollars.”

I nodded slowly, offering a simple, “It’s beautiful.”

Phoebe sighed dramatically.

“Honestly, I don't get men,” she mused. “You’re so much prettier and smarter than I am, and you were with him for so long. All he ever got you was a few cheap coffees. I’m just average and a little clumsy, and we’ve only been talking for two weeks, but he sends me this million-dollar piece. Why do you think that is?”

What else could I say?

“Because,” I explained, my voice flat, “he was pretending to be broke the entire time he was talking to me.”