Chapter 1

I worked my ass off and lost eighty pounds just to surprise my Tinder boyfriend.

I went from an insecure, overweight girl to a literal bombshell.

Right before we were supposed to meet in person for the first time, I saw his post on X.

It was a picture of me at my heaviest. The caption?

"Frat dare giveaway! Who wants to take over my fat, stupid online girlfriend? Bidding starts at $50!"

I stared at my toned abs and sharp jawline in the mirror. The tears stopped, leaving nothing but ice-cold fury.

Fifty bucks, huh?

You're going to regret this, Brad.

~~~~~

The screen was filled with posts Brad had made over the last two years.

"That pig sent me another pic today. Asked if the dress made her look skinny. Jesus, she looks like a busted can of biscuits."

"Where does she get the confidence to think I'd take her to the welcome party? To do what? Clear out the buffet?"

But on the exact same day, Brad had messaged me on Tinder:

"Baby, don't worry about your looks. You're adorable just the way you are."

"I don't care what anyone else thinks. I only care about you."

My vision blurred.

I’d starved through countless sleepless nights for the guy saying those sweet things.

I’d sweat buckets on the treadmill, pushing myself to the absolute brink to drop exactly eighty pounds.

Those sweet nothings that used to move me to tears now felt like a stinging slap to the face.

While playing the devoted boyfriend in my DMs, he was treating me like a sick joke for his frat brothers.

But what made my blood run cold was the timestamp on the auction post.

One week ago.

If Brad sold my account a week ago...

Then the guy texting me good morning and good night every single day since—was the buyer who paid fifty bucks for me.

My hands shook as I switched back to Tinder.

The last message was from two days ago:

"No matter what you look like, I'll always like you."

When I first read that, I’d actually cried happy tears.

Now? It was just a cruel, condescending joke. The buyer was treating me like a clown.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

When I opened them, the tears were gone, replaced by a freezing calm.

No crying. No hysterical texts to Brad.

I grabbed my jacket and shoved open Samantha's door.

Samantha was typing away, headphones on. She took one look at my pale face and yanked them off.

"Chloe? What's wrong?"

"Look someone up for me."

I slid my phone across her desk.

Ten minutes later, Samantha smashed the Enter key.

A private social media profile popped up on the screen.

"Got him. The IP address of the guy who bought the account belongs to Liam. He's a brother in Brad's frat."

An executive board member of the State U chapter, Brad's frat brother, and the undisputed number one campus crush.

Samantha frowned at the picture of the gorgeous, smiling golden boy on the screen.

"Chloe, this guy actually has a pretty good reputation on campus. I can't believe he'd play such a sick game."

I stared at Liam's photo, my eyes lingering on his intense gaze.

A mocking smirk curled my lips.

"Since he paid fifty bucks for me..."

"It's only fair I go meet the buyer."