chapter 1

After his mother passed away, my boyfriend was diagnosed with cancer.

We were both orphans; all we had was each other. I couldn't just stand by and watch him die!

So, I gave up my place at a top-tier university and willingly walked into the notorious Eva Academy of Art.

On the surface, it was a modeling school. In reality, it was a hunting ground, procuring young women to serve the depraved tastes of wealthy old men—all under the guise of "artistic" patronage.

It was essentially a real-life Epstein Island for the modeling world.

After I had earned enough money—emerging from that hellhole physically and mentally wrecked—I rushed to give him the funds for his treatment.

But I found him in a luxurious mansion, in the middle of a drunken orgy with another woman, draped in designer clothes from head to toe.

He looked at me, puffing on a cigar, and spoke as if bestowing a great honor.

"You're practically wrecked and used up, but I've seen your sincerity. You really weren't after my money after all."

"Congratulations," he said. "You've passed my little test. You're now worthy of being the official girlfriend of the Jekyll heir."

…

Midsummer, I walked out of the Eva Academy of Art, incongruously dressed in long sleeves and trousers.

I didn't dare look back at that hellish building. I just kept my head down and walked fast, every cell in my body screaming at me to get away and to get away far.

As I sped up, my gait became awkward. The scalpel wounds between my legs, which were still not fully healed, reopened and began to bleed.

They were souvenirs from the so-called "artistic" training courses. The so-called professors there were all figureheads, and their real purpose was to enjoy the bodies of young girls.

Ignoring the blood trickling down my legs, I clutched the wallet in my hand. Inside was a card containing my "scholarship" for the past month.

Only one thought consumed me: I had to get this life-saving money to my boyfriend, Steve.

He had cancer. He was lying in a hospital, receiving treatment. The hospital said they could only give me a one-month grace period; after that, they would stop all his treatments.

On my way to the hospital, I suddenly received a text message.

[Steve is currently waiting for you at 4 Fairfield Pond, Southford.]

Had something happened to him while I was at school!? Had he… had he also resorted to selling his body for urgent money?

Without overthinking it, I rushed to the address. Only then did I realize it was a massive, sprawling mansion. To describe it as endless wouldn't be an exaggeration.

Seeing me standing dumbly at the gate, a maid approached.

"Miss, can I help you?" she asked.

I stared at the glittering windows ahead and answered distractedly, "I'm looking for Steve Evan… but how could he possibly be here..."

The maid looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my face.

"Miss, while your attire is… less than appropriate, you are quite beautiful. You must be a guest for Mr. Steve's party. You may enter."

"However, the family name is Jekyll, not Evan. Please do not mistake it again."

"Mr. Steve…? Jekyll?"

My mind was a chaotic fog. My weakened, abused body moved stiffly, inch by inch.

The maid led me into a hall as ornate as a palace, and there I saw the man I dreamed about every day.

My boyfriend, Steve. The last time I saw him, he was pale and haggard, lying in a hospital bed.

"Beverly, we should break up. I can't drag you down with me."

Now, he stood in the dim, pulsating light, dressed in obscenely expensive luxury brands, holding a nearly naked, beautiful, and seductive redhead.

The woman was grinding against him, moaning loudly. Another woman, blonde and also half-naked, was kissing him.

When the frantic sex subsided, the redhead leaned against Steve's chest, tracing circles with her finger.

"Steve, I'm better than your poor little girlfriend, right?" she purred.

Steve frowned in displeasure and pushed her away.

"Abby, you're overstepping. Remember your place. We're just occasional fuck buddies."

One of Steve's male friends circled around, lit a cigar for him, and joked with a laugh, "Mr. Jekyll seems displeased? What? Did you actually develop feelings for that tacky, penniless girl?"

"She went to a place like Eva Academy of Art. She's been used up. You've always preferred things… clean. How can you stand it?"

Steve slowly exhaled a plume of smoke. I couldn't decipher the emotion in his voice.

Those once-familiar, sexy eyes held no trace of sickness now, only arrogance and wild abandon.

He raised an eyebrow, his voice pitched just right to carry to where I stood in the distance.

"I didn't take it seriously at first, but I never thought she'd actually go to a place like Eva Academy of Art for me."

"Kinda makes me… feel a little sorry for her."

"She'd throw her life away for me," he added. "Which of you could ever keep a dog so loyal?"