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The Hidden Heiress's Campus Betrayal Novel Cover

The Hidden Heiress's Campus Betrayal

To escape the tragic legacy of my famous mother, I hid my identity, becoming a plain, forgettable film student. I fell hard for Hayes McCall, the campus playboy, believing our love was real. But he was just using me. I was a human shield, a decoy to protect the real object of his affection: the fragile campus "it-girl," Karmen. He let me get bullied and kidnapped. He stole my thesis film-a tribute to my mother's memory-and gave it to Karmen to claim as her own. When I tried to fight back, he destroyed my work, my past, everything. At graduation, my ex-roommate projected a video to the entire auditorium, branding me a high-class escort who slept with powerful men. "She's a disgrace!" she screamed, as the crowd turned on me. I calmly walked to the podium, my voice cutting through the noise. "You're accusing a Zamora of being a gold-digger?" I let the name hang in the air before delivering the final blow. "I don't climb the ladder. I am the ladder."
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Chapter 6

Everly Zamora POV:

Pain. It was the first thing I registered when consciousness flickered back. My head throbbed. My wrists and ankles were bound. The air in the room was thick with dust and a metallic tang. I struggled against the ropes, a sob catching in my throat.

"Well, well, look who's finally awake." A voice, rough and familiar, made my blood run cold. I knew that voice. It was the man from the bar, the one Hayes had humiliated. The one who had kidnapped Karmen before.

He was glaring at his henchmen. "You idiots! I said the fragile blonde! The one Hayes McCall is always protecting! Not this… this nobody!"

One of the men mumbled, "Boss, his friend said she was leaving tonight. Said she was the one he cared about now. We just followed the directions."

My heart plummeted. Hayes. Had he sent them? Had he deliberately misdirected them to me? Was this his final punishment for trying to expose the truth? The thought was a crushing weight. He had destroyed my work, my memories. Now, he was offering me up to his enemies. I felt utterly, completely abandoned.

The man, the leader, grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. "Hayes McCall thought he was so smart, getting me locked up. And then he tries to pay me off? He thinks money fixes everything." He sneered. "He got his revenge on me once, for 'his girl.' Now, I' ll get mine. With interest."

My mind flashed back to the day Hayes beat those bullies at the university. He called it "revenge for me." But he had done nothing when I was actually hurt. He only acted when his reputation, his sense of justice was at stake.

"Kill her," he commanded, his eyes burning with malice. "Make it slow. Make sure McCall feels every single beat."

The blows started, sharp and brutal. I curled into a ball, trying to protect my head, my stomach, anything I could. Each impact was a jolt of agony. My body screamed. This was a pain I had never known. Growing up, I was shielded, protected. My brother, my father. They never let anyone touch me. Now, I was just a punching bag.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and silent. They were not for the physical pain, but for the devastating realization that Hayes truly didn't care. He had thrown me away. I closed my eyes, wishing for the darkness to take me again.

Then, a distant shout. A familiar voice, deep and commanding.

My eyes fluttered open. A tall, powerful figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light. Before I could make out who it was, darkness swallowed me again.

The details swam in my head. The kidnappers were after Karmen. They had been given wrong information. And Hayes' s friend, Hayes' s inner circle, was the one who had sent them after me. Hayes was the only one who even knew my flight details. Did he set this up? Was this his ultimate betrayal?

The thought was a cold poison, spreading through my veins. He had used me as a decoy, stolen my work, and now, perhaps, he had delivered me to his enemies. The man's words, "Make McCall feel every single beat," echoed in my ears. I was just a tool. A message.

I tried to fight, but my body was weak, my limbs uncoordinated. I felt fists, boots, hitting me from all sides. The world blurred. Each blow was a fresh wave of agony. I had faced pain before, the emotional kind, but never this. This raw, brutal violence. It was suffocating.

My tears were not just for myself now. They were a silent scream at Hayes. Is this what you wanted for me? Is this what I meant to you?

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