Betrayed By My Best Friend I Revealed My Billionaire Heiress Identity Chapter 01
Chapter 1:Steel and Silence
I took a steel pipe to the skull to protect my best friend—and five minutes later, I found her holding an umbrella for the girl who’d just tried to beat her up.
But let me back up.
“Elara Kensington! Look what you did to your classmate!”
“Are you crazy? If you’re mentally ill, go get treatment—stop terrorizing people at this school!”
The Dean’s spit nearly hits my face. I’m pressing my hand against my bleeding forehead.
I look like hell right now.
My uniform jacket is ripped to shreds. My back is covered in bruises.
The gash on my forehead—courtesy of a rusty steel pipe—is oozing bright red blood.
But I don’t say a word. I stand straight, chin up.
Because 30 minutes ago, Sloane Ashford and three of her girls cornered my best friend Maya in the bathroom stall.
They ripped at her clothes. Take photos.
I heard Maya’s desperate screams and kicked the door in.
To buy her time to run, I took on all three of them alone—chairs, fists, whatever I could grab.
I broke one girl’s nose. And I took a full-force pipe swing meant for Maya.
Maya’s always been timid.
To keep her out of it—to protect that perfect honor-student image she works so hard to maintain—I refuse to say a word to the Dean.
He slams the disciplinary notice in my face.
“One-week suspension! Five-thousand-word written apology, and your parents better show up tomorrow—or you’re expelled!”
I drag my battered body out of the office, limping.
The hallway is empty. Outside, a cold rain begins to fall.
I want to find Maya. I want to tell her it’s okay—I handled it.
I search every senior classroom. The bleachers. The courtyard.
She’s nowhere.
Until I reach the bike shed behind the school.
Through the gray curtain of rain, I see her.
She’s holding a lace-trimmed umbrella—tilted almost entirely over another girl’s head.
Maya’s own shoulder is soaked through. She doesn’t seem to notice.
She’s wearing a smile I’ve never seen before. Fawning. Desperate to please.
The girl under her umbrella is Sloane Ashford.
The same Sloane who was assaulting her thirty minutes ago.
“God, that Elara is such a psycho. The way she snapped in there—I was terrified. How does Westbrook even admit people like that?”
She’s cradling a brand-new Chanel bag in her arms like a baby, shielding it from every raindrop.
Sloane wipes her fingers with a premium cleansing cloth, her face twisted in disgust.
I freeze. My whole body goes stiff.
Then Maya’s voice cuts through the cold rain. Every word hits like a blade.