Rewriting My Dark Fate With My Sworn Enemy Chapter 1

I was just about to slip a McDonald’s bag into the struggling main character’s desk.

The barrage of scrolling comments, the comments, flashed across my vision:

[The Drama Queen side character is using food she won't eat to 'feed' the hero again. Seriously, does having a little money make her better than us?]

[She’s pure evil. She saw the hero only had eyes for our sweet main girl, so she harassed and targeted her until the poor thing had to transfer schools.]

[Keep bullying him, side girl! Once your family is broke, the hero will seize your assets, force you into marriage, lock you up, and torture you mentally and physically before you meet your miserable end! ~]

I snatched my hand back as if burned.

Then, I turned and tossed the McDonald’s right onto the desk of my sworn enemy.

Oh, I’d feed the stray dog outside before I’d give anything to that guy!

* * *

Garrett Blackwood was lounging in his chair, one long leg propped casually over the other.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the familiar yellow bag on his desk, and let out a chuckle that held no humor.

“Princess Hart, are you sure this is for me? The sun must have risen in the west.”

He picked up the bag delicately, as if it might be contaminated. “Don’t tell me you’re treating me like your personal trash can, disposing of things your precious Alex didn’t want. That’s just bad karma.”

The comments stuttered.

Then a wave of question marks filled my screen.

[Why did the side character give the McDonald’s to someone else?]

[What else? She knows her sad attempts won’t get the hero’s attention, so she’s trying a different angle.]

[I'm so sick of this spoiled, drama-obsessed rich girl. She's the literal opposite of our kind and resilient Finny. I can’t wait for Alex to be reunited with his elite family so this side character can get her comeuppance! Lock her up! Torture her!]

The horrific stream of comments, wishing me dead, coupled with Garrett’s usual cryptic passive-aggression, left me feeling frayed. I glared at him, annoyed.

“Garrett Blackwood, consider it a gift. If you don’t want it, just say so…”

Just then, Alexander “Alex” Donovan walked in.

He saw me standing next to his desk, talking to Garrett.

His expression instantly froze over.

“Stella Hart, what did you just put in my desk?”

His voice was low and icy. “I’m going to tell you one more time: I don’t need your high-and-mighty, fake charity. I don’t like you, and please, respect yourself.”

The cold misjudgment stung, leaving a hollow ache in my chest.

But on the outside, I gave nothing away. I lifted my chin, projecting a false bravado.

“Alex, I didn’t put anything in your desk, and I never will again. I don’t like you. Don’t… don’t flatter yourself.”

Seraphina “Finny” Cole, who had walked in behind Alex, knitted her delicate brows.

She looked at me, her tone soft but laced with disapproval.

“Stella, you’re really going too far. You shouldn’t constantly use money to insult and trample on people’s dignity.”

She sighed dramatically. “You already caused him a lot of trouble last time, and some truly awful rumors started…”

I blinked at her, utterly bewildered, and remained silent.

Why does everyone always twist my intentions? Is trying to discretely help someone with their tuition really ‘trampling on their dignity’?

Garrett let out a dismissive scoff.

He rapped his knuckles sharply on his desk.

“Alex Donovan, do you suffer from delusions? And you, Finny, the one who always joins the witch-hunt the second it starts, would you both mind taking a look? Is there anything in Alex’s desk? Why are you creating drama?”