My Roommate Rented Out My Bed,So I Revoked Her Scholarship

A roar filled my ears, drowning out everything else.

My eyes went wide. The hand gripping my phone had started to tremble.

Because the WhatsApp profile picture was unmistakably my father's.

A nameless fury surged from somewhere deep in my chest, shooting straight to the top of my skull.

I pulled up his contact and called him, ready to demand an explanation.

The line wouldn't connect.

I paced in place, stomping my foot, my breathing turning shallow and fast.

I was about to give up.

Then I heard it: a rapid-fire string of notification chimes from Tamara's phone.

My gaze landed on that familiar profile picture, and my whole body locked up.

My heart dropped straight through the floor.

“My boyfriend literally can't go a second without me.”

Leaning past her shoulder, I saw a screen full of sweet nothings and a voice message over twenty seconds long.

Underneath the fury, a quiet doubt started to gnaw at me.

In all these years, my father had never once ignored my calls unless he was in an emergency meeting. Even if he really did have something going on with my roommate, he wouldn't deliberately leave me hanging.

And my father had never been the type to sweet-talk anyone.

Back when my mother was alive, she used to tease him for being the worst with words.

Unless the man chatting with Tamara……had stolen my father's identity.

The fire in my chest cooled, replaced inch by inch with something cold.

I looked at Tamara, my expression unreadable.

She tipped her chin up, face glowing with smug satisfaction, practically preening.

“My boyfriend said if you don't move out of this dorm, next time it won't just be a campus-wide disciplinary notice.”

“So if you know what's good for you, pack your crap and get lost.”

I stared at that self-satisfied face and let out a cold laugh before I could stop it.

I walked toward her, slow and unhurried, every step deliberate.

“And you're absolutely sure the person you've been chatting with is a billionaire and not a fraud?”

My other roommate, Kate Pruitt, cut in with a sneer.

“What, just because you had to sell yourself to land a sugar daddy, you think Tamara's the same kind of trash?”

I didn't bother responding to her. My eyes stayed fixed on Tamara.

I kept my voice light, almost offhand.

“So has he actually taken you to that mansion yet?”

The contempt in Tamara's eyes only thickened.

“My baby told me that's going to be our house after the wedding. He wants to keep it a surprise. Someone like you wouldn't get the chance to see a place like that in your entire life.”

“I'm about to become the richest man's wife, so I suggest you do as you're told. Otherwise I'll make sure you can't survive a single day on this campus.”

I had no intention of arguing with them any further. In less than a month, I'd be leaving for the University of London.

I shrugged, indifferent. I'd given her the warning. What she did with it was her problem.

I turned and headed for the door.

But as I passed the desk, my pupils contracted sharply.

Sitting on the surface was a crisp, untouched study-abroad application with my name printed clearly across the top.

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

I had submitted this application to my advisor just yesterday. How was it here, in the dorm?

And yesterday had been the final deadline.

I snatched the application off the desk and flung it in Tamara's face……

“You intercepted my study-abroad application?”

Tamara had been trimming her eyebrows with a razor, slow and leisurely. My outburst made her pause, annoyance flickering across her face.

“A gold-digger like you thinks she can use her dirty money to study abroad? Dream on.”

“All we did was tell the advisor about your little gold-digging career. She's the one who sent it back. And the campus-wide disciplinary notice? That should be coming down any day now.”