The campus quad buzzed with ordinary life under a crisp afternoon sun—students sprawled on the grass with textbooks, friends laughing over shared earbuds, couples stealing kisses behind trees. Everything looked normal. Bright. Carefree.
Anissa walked through it like a ghost.
Her hoodie was pulled low, hands buried deep in pockets, eyes fixed on the ground. The laughter around her felt distant, muffled, like sounds from another world.
How do you walk through hell with your face on straight?
How do you smile when everything inside you is screaming?
Her phone buzzed sharply in her pocket.
She pulled it out.
TEXT FROM TANYA:
Tonight. My place. It's time.
Anissa stared at the screen until it dimmed. No reply. Just a slow, steady breath.
She kept walking.
Evening settled heavy over Nelly's dorm room. She sat alone on her bed, knees drawn to her chest, tears tracking silently down her cheeks. The envelope Ronnie had thrown at her lay open beside her—photos of her younger sister, barely eighteen, dancing in a seedy club under flashing lights. Vulnerable. Exposed.
Nelly's phone was clutched tight in her hand. She opened the chat with Anissa.
Typed: I need to tell you everything.
Deleted it.
Typed again: I'm so sorry. I was scared. Ronnie—
Deleted.
Her fingers hovered, shaking.
A sharp knock shattered the silence.
"Open up, Nelly."
Ronnie's voice. Low. Commanding.
Her face hardened through the tears. She wiped her cheeks roughly and opened the door.
He stepped in without waiting for invitation, eyes sweeping the room like he owned it.
"You look like shit," he said flatly.
Nelly's chin lifted, voice raw. "I'm done. I don't care what you do anymore. I told Anissa."
Ronnie's smirk was slow and cruel. "No, you didn't. You tried. Then you chickened out. You always do."
He tossed a thick envelope onto her bed. It landed with a soft thud beside the first.
Nelly opened it with trembling fingers.
More photos—her sister in compromising positions, clearly taken without consent. A flash drive clipped to the corner, labeled in sharpie.
"You think I bluff, princess?" Ronnie stepped closer, towering. "Push her to keep the baby. Make her see it's the smart play. Or that tape of your little sister hits every platform I can find. Clubs. Colleges. Her boss. Mom and Dad's church group. All of it."
Nelly's face crumpled. The fight drained out of her.
Ronnie leaned in, voice a venomous whisper near her ear. "You don't get to grow a conscience now."
He left as quietly as he'd come, door clicking shut like a prison cell.
Night cloaked the city when Anissa arrived at Tanya's penthouse. She wore a hoodie and cap pulled low, hands shoved deep in pockets, looking smaller than she felt.
Tanya opened the door herself—elegant in silk, makeup flawless, but her eyes were sharp as broken glass.
"You came."
Anissa stepped inside. "I don't have a choice."
Tanya handed her a crystal glass of whiskey without asking. Anissa took it, fingers brushing cold glass.
They moved to the living room—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering skyline. Tanya didn't sit. She stood, arms crossed, studying Anissa like a chess piece.
"You do have a choice," Tanya said calmly. "But if you want him buried—if you want out—you'll need my help."
Anissa's grip tightened on the glass. "Why help me?"
Tanya's smile was bitter, beautiful, broken. "Because you're carrying something I couldn't give him. The one thing he's wanted more than power. An heir." She laughed softly, no humor in it. "And if I can't have the crown… I'll burn the kingdom down with him in it."
She crossed to a sleek desk, pulled out a thick folder, and slid it across the marble counter.
Anissa opened it.
Bank records. Payouts to girls over years. Signed NDAs. Photos. Contracts. Names. Dates. Evidence of blackmail, trafficking pipelines, payoffs to officials.
And at the bottom—a list of girls funneled through Ronnie.
Including Nelly's name. Highlighted.
Anissa's stomach lurched. "She knew?"
Tanya's voice softened—just a fraction. "She was scared. Desperate. Thought it was one night. Didn't know how deep it went until it was too late. Doesn't make it right. But it makes her human."
Anissa stared at the page until the words blurred.
Tanya handed her a small flash drive. "Everything's on here. Digital copies. Offshore backups. Enough to put him away for life—if it ever sees daylight."
Anissa took it, fingers numb.
No one's clean in this story. Not even me.
Same night, across town at Steven's mansion.
Ronnie arrived unannounced, let in by security. Steven waited in the darkened living room, city lights casting long shadows, whiskey glass in hand.
"Problem?" Steven asked without turning.
Ronnie poured himself a drink. "She's slipping. Refused to come tonight. And Nelly… she's cracking."
Steven's jaw tightened. "Fix it."
Ronnie shrugged. "If it were me, I'd lock her up. Keep her close. No one needs to know a damn thing until the baby's here. Safe."
Steven stared out at the city, silent for a long beat.
"Maybe I will."
Later, back in Anissa's dorm.
The door creaked open. Nelly sat on Anissa's bed in the dark, waiting.
Anissa stepped in, closed the door softly. Face stone-cold.
"Talk."
Nelly's voice broke immediately. Tears spilled as words tumbled out. "I let you fall into this. I was scared—broke—Ronnie promised it was safe, just one night, good money. I didn't know he'd trap you. I didn't know about the others. By the time I realized… I froze. I'm so sorry, Anissa. I hate myself for it."
Anissa stood motionless, arms crossed. "Do you have any idea what you cost me?"
Nelly whispered, "Everything."
Anissa's eyes were dead, voice low. "I should hate you."
Nelly nodded, tears falling freely.
Anissa moved to her desk, opened her laptop. Plugged in the flash drive from Tanya.
The screen lit up with files—evidence, proof, a lifeline.
She looked back at Nelly.
"We're both running out of time."
A beat.
"You in… or not?"
Nelly wiped her face, stood slowly.
"I'm in."
For the first time in months, Anissa's lips curved—not a smile, but something close to resolve.
The game had changed.
They weren't prey anymore.