My Arrogant Roommate Flaunted Her "Rich Boyfriend" and Led an Online Attack Against Me—But Her Boyfriend Turned Out to Be My Family’s Security Guard Chapter 1

My obnoxious roommate recently started dating a “rich boy” and made it her life’s mission to target me.

She stole my scholarship and even rallied a mob to harass me online.

“Tsk, tsk, the ‘top student of the department’ won’t even donate when a classmate’s family is in need. My boyfriend donated a whole million dollars!”

I was speechless. The anonymous $1 million donation… was actually from me.

She wasn’t satisfied with just the online harassment and decided to show off her boyfriend to intimidate me.

Wait a second—wasn’t that my family’s security guard? And when exactly did he start driving my car to pick up girls?

My roommate, Rachel, had been showing off her “rich boyfriend” non-stop lately.

“Look at the Cartier bracelet he just gave me,” she said, holding up her wrist so the sunlight reflected off the bracelet like a dazzling beam of light.

“Wow, that must’ve cost a fortune! Your boyfriend is so good to you,” one of our roommates exclaimed.

“Totally! Rachel, does your boyfriend have any single friends? Hook us up!”

The other roommates surrounded her, showering her with compliments until her face bloomed with pride.

Rachel, clearly enjoying the attention, casually handed out branded makeup products from her collection to the others.

The room was filled with gasps and flattery as they fawned over her generosity.

I sat in the corner reading a book, ignoring the commotion.

Rachel noticed and frowned.

“Chloe, what do you think of my Cartier bracelet? It’s 100% solid gold—not like that cheap silver bracelet you always wear.”

I glanced at her bracelet, instantly recognizing it as a knockoff.

The “silver bracelet” on my wrist? It was actually a limited-edition Tiffany piece, understated but worth more than her entire outfit.

Still, I didn’t want to embarrass her. “It’s nice,” I said calmly. “My bracelet’s nothing special.”

Rachel’s mood lifted at my response, and her frown dissolved into a smug grin. She walked over and slammed my book shut.

“Seriously, Chloe, you should invest in some real jewelry. Standing next to me with that thing? You’re making me look bad.”

I sighed inwardly.

Rachel’s family wasn’t well-off. They weren’t even middle-class. Before she met her “rich boyfriend,” she’d been wearing $10 t-shirts with worn-out jeans.

Now, she acted like she’d forgotten where she came from.

I gave her a polite nod, pretending to agree, while mentally trying to figure out which page I’d left off on.

Our other roommate, Lily, looped her arm through Rachel’s and said sweetly, “Rachel, don’t bother with her. You two are on completely different levels. Let’s grab dinner tonight, and you can tell me more about your boyfriend.”

Rachel glanced at her, then raised her voice dramatically.

“Sorry, no can do. I’m meeting my boyfriend tonight!”

A flicker of jealousy flashed across Lily’s face, but she quickly masked it.

“Must be at some fancy restaurant, huh? Don’t forget to post pictures on Instagram.”

Rachel didn’t respond, too busy applying makeup in front of the mirror.

She put on the only dress in her wardrobe that cost more than $100, then strutted out of the dorm like a proud peacock.

That evening, as I sat in the dorm happily eating spicy hot pot takeout, Lily suddenly let out a shriek.

“Rachel just posted on Instagram! Look—foie gras, caviar, red wine, steak… oh my god!”

The other roommates rushed over to see her post, leaving me with my hot pot.

Lily glanced at me disdainfully.

“Some people get to wear fancy dresses and go on romantic dates with rich guys. Others…” She sneered at my hot pot. “…are stuck eating $5 takeout. Life just isn’t fair, is it?”

I paused, chopsticks halfway to my mouth, and looked at her.

What’s wrong with eating hot pot? How does it bother her?

When I didn’t respond, Lily shoved her phone in my face.

“Look! Rachel and her boyfriend are so perfect for each other.”

I glanced at the photo, and my interest was instantly piqued.

The “rich boyfriend” in the picture?

That was my family’s newly hired security guard.

Here’s a little backstory:

My dad got rich after winning the lottery, using the money to kickstart his first business. Since then, his investments had snowballed, turning him into one of the wealthiest people in Ashbourne City.

Growing up, I’d been chauffeured to school in luxury cars, and my school uniform was paired with the latest designer collections.

But all that attention came with risks—I was almost kidnapped once.

The incident scared my dad so much that he insisted I keep a low profile in college.

Even though he bought me a private villa near campus, he told me to live in the dorms to avoid drawing attention.

So here I was, wearing plain clothes and pretending to be ordinary.

The truth? Even my “cheapest” outfits cost at least $300.

When I first arrived on campus, I made the mistake of wearing a designer outfit. My classmates immediately recognized its value.

To avoid standing out, I told them it was a knockoff.

From then on, I was labeled as someone who liked fake luxury goods.

I didn’t mind. I was here to study, not impress anyone.

My dad, who hadn’t gone to college, was obsessed with education.

“Chloe, we’re poor in everything but money. You better study hard and make me proud!”

Our house had an entire wall covered with my awards and certificates—worth only a few dollars each but priceless to my dad.

Back to Rachel’s “boyfriend.”

A few months ago, one of our security guards quit, recommending his nephew for the job.

His nephew seemed hardworking, so I approved the hire.

Who would’ve thought he’d turn around and pretend to be a rich kid to date Rachel?

As my roommates huddled around Rachel’s Instagram post, I leaned back and thought about what to do next.