The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior

Elinor pushed open the heavy exit doors of the music building. She needed to get back to her dorm to take her stronger allergy medication. Her arm throbbed with every step.

She walked toward the main dormitories. The path forced her to walk along the edge of The Quad.

She stopped walking. A wall of students blocked the sidewalk. The sight in front of her made her stomach turn.

The massive green lawn was completely covered in red roses. They were arranged in a giant, disgusting heart shape.

Two black drones buzzed loudly in the sky, recording the entire scene.

Howell Hampton stood in the dead center of the flowers. He wore a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit. He held a large white plastic megaphone in his hand.

His fraternity brother, Griffin Wallace, stood at the edge of the grass. Griffin yelled at a group of freshmen to hold up a massive white banner that read "Forever Yours."

A strong gust of wind swept across the open space. It picked up thousands of loose red petals. It also picked up a massive, invisible cloud of rose pollen.

The wind hit Elinor's face. Even through the thick fabric of her N95 mask, the heavy, sickening smell of rose oil invaded her nose.

Her windpipe clamped shut. It felt like a pair of invisible hands wrapped around her neck and squeezed. She let out a pathetic, wheezing gasp.

Elinor bent forward. Her right hand grabbed the fabric of her shirt over her chest. Her muscles tightened, pulling on the fresh stitches in her left arm. A sharp spike of pain shot to her elbow.

She panicked. She shoved her right hand into her canvas bag. She dug past her wallet and keys. She searched for her backup EpiPen. The students around her screamed and cheered for Howell. No one looked at the girl suffocating on the edge of the concrete. Her cold fingers finally brushed against the hard plastic casing of the auto-injector. She ripped her mask down. She pulled the blue safety release cap off with her teeth. She hovered the orange tip over her right thigh, her hand trembling violently. She hesitated, knowing the massive dose of adrenaline would send her into severe tachycardia and require immediate hospitalization. She forced herself to look at the library doors just fifty feet away. She didn't trigger the needle. Instead, she gripped the EpiPen like a lifeline and forced her legs to move.

She stumbled backward, away from the wind. She pushed through the heavy glass doors of the campus library.

The freezing air conditioning hit her skin. The filtered air filled her lungs. She leaned her back against a cold marble pillar. She squeezed her eyes shut and panted.

Her phone started vibrating violently in her pocket.

She pulled it out. The screen showed fifteen missed calls. They were all from Zoe and Leighton.

She opened iMessage. Leighton sent a high-resolution photo of Howell in the flowers. The text read: He is insane! Where are you?!

Zoe sent a voice memo. Elinor held the phone to her ear. Zoe's voice was frantic. Elinor, the whole school is looking for you. The Dean is here. Are you going to see him?

Elinor stared at the screen. A cold, mocking smile twisted her lips. She typed with her right thumb.

I will say this one last time. He is waiting for Carrie Hutchinson. If you do not want me to die from anaphylactic shock, stop texting me.

She hit send. The group chat went completely dead. Thirty seconds passed. No one replied. The name "Carrie" and the word "shock" finally shut them up.

Elinor looked through the glass windows of the library. She watched Howell.

Howell looked down at his gold Rolex watch. He shifted his weight. He looked impatient and excited.

He did not care that if Elinor actually walked into that circle, the pollen would kill her in three minutes.

The absolute selfishness of the man erased the last tiny drop of pity she had left for him.

She flipped her phone to silent. She turned around. She decided to leave through the back door of the library to avoid the crowd.

As she turned, three girls wearing matching Alpha Phi sweatshirts walked through the back doors. They stopped dead in their tracks. They stared right at her.