The Broken Heiress Returned For Revenge

TRIGGER WARNING: CHAPTER MAY CONTAIN SEXUAL ASSAULT AND NON-CONSENSUAL ACTS. READERS DISCRETION ADVISED!

CRUELLA

I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to muffle the thunderous bass vibrating through the frat house walls. I should never have come here. But Swayer had begged, Ethan had convinced me, and—like always—I caved.

Swayer disappeared the moment we arrived, swept away into the crowd by the music while I awkwardly stood alone. I spotted Ethan in a corner with his friends, laughing and drinking like he had no worries in the world.

“Babe, come over here!” Ethan called out, gesturing with a lazy wave.

I walked toward him slowly. His friends drifted away, giving us space. He offered me a drink, but I shook my head. I don’t drink. I wanted to say it, but I didn’t want to seem boring.

“Come on, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he said with that smile that always melted me. “Have fun… be free. Let tomorrow take care of itself.”

So I accepted the drink.

The moment I took a sip, he leaned closer. “Should we go upstairs?”

My brows are knitted. “Upstairs? Why…?”

He smirked. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t know why. It’s Valentine’s night.”

My heart dropped. “A-are we doing it now?”

He stood immediately, setting down his cup. When he offered me his hand, I hesitated—but only for a second. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t love him.

So I took it.

He led me to a room on the first floor, closed the door, and his lips crashed against mine—hungry, aggressive, impatient. His mouth was everywhere, his hands were everywhere, and I couldn’t get a proper breath in. He tasted like alcohol, and his touch felt… wrong. Too rushed. Too forceful.

When he finally broke the kiss, I gasped for air as he stripped off his shirt. I glanced around nervously at the unfamiliar room.

“What if the owner walks in?” I whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Are you just making excuses?” he snapped. “If you want to stop, say it.”

His expression told me exactly what would happen if I said no.

So I swallowed down my fear. “…I want to do it. Just… It's my first time. Please be gentle.”

His smile softened—as if he truly cared—but the way he touched me said otherwise. His hands roamed, hurried and rough. When his fingers brushed my most sensitive place, I gasped and instinctively pulled away. He didn’t stop. He lifted me, carried me to the bed, and laid me down.

My heart was hammered painfully.

Is this right? Am I ready?

But I’d already agreed.

He undressed me piece by piece. My hands trembled. My body shook. He didn’t soothe me or slow down. I wasn’t even wet—my body wasn’t ready—but he didn’t care.

He took off his pants, climbed over me, and positioned himself.

“E-Ethan—” I began.

The sharp, tearing pain cut my words off.

“Ouch!” I gasped.

He didn’t pause. Didn’t ask if I was okay. He just kept thrusting, faster, harder, ignoring my pleas.

“Wait—wait, please—Ethan, stop—” Tears blurred my vision. “I don’t want to anymore.”

Finally, he stopped. Looked down at me with a fake worried expression. “Sorry. I must’ve lost control.”

“I don’t want to continue,” I whispered through tears.

He sighed, forcing a gentle tone. “Just give me a little more time… I’ll finish soon.”

His mouth kissed me softly, deceptively tender, while his hips continued moving.

I shut my eyes and endured the pain.

When he came, his warm release spilling into me, I exhaled shakily. It was over. But the ache between my thighs lingered, throbbing with every breath.

He pulled out, dressed without a second glance, and tossed my clothes toward me.

“You should get dressed before the owner comes,” he said dryly.

And then he just… left.

I dressed alone, feeling empty and numb.

Did I do the right thing?

No—

He loves me, I reminded myself.

Stop thinking negatively, Cruella.

I forced myself downstairs.

Swayer spotted me instantly. Her face twisted in worry as she hurried over.

“Ella, where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick.”

I scoffed. “Really? You looked like you were having fun without me.”

She blinked, confused, eyes scanning my body. “Are you okay? You look… shaken.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“What about Ethan? Did you see—”

I walked away before she finished.

THE NEXT DAY

The moment Swayer and I entered the lecture hall, whispers erupted around us.

“She’s the one, isn’t she?”

“I thought she was decent.”

“Such a shameless slut.”

I frowned. Who are they talking about?

Then I noticed the stares—sharp, judgmental, glued to me.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” I muttered.

Swayer was scrolling her phone, but suddenly she gasped, covering her mouth.

“What?” I asked.

She turned her screen toward me.

My world stopped.

It was a video.

My video.

Last night.

Ethan. Me. The bed. All of it.

And the views were skyrocketing—over a million already.

“No… no, no—how…?” Tears spilled down my cheeks. I felt my chest tighten. My stomach dropped. “How did this even happen…?”

Swayer looked at me with broken hope. “Cruella… tell me this isn’t you. Tell me it’s fake.”

I bolted out of the hall, sobbing, barely seeing where I was going. I crashed into someone in the doorway and staggered back.

Ethan.

His face was cold, empty—like I was a stranger.

My voice shook. “Was that you? Did you record and post that video?”

Please say no. Please love me. Please—

“Yes, I did,” he said flatly. “So what?”

My heart shattered.