Chapter 5

Sam's fingers tightened around the window frame, his breath catching in his throat. Every part of him screamed to turn away, to pretend he had never come here. But his feet were rooted to the ground, his heart pounding so violently he thought it might burst.

Inside the dimly lit auditorium, Kate sat on Ryan's lap, facing him. Her arms draped around his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. Ryan was sitting on the teacher's broad wooden desk, his hands not resting on her waist like an innocent embrace but gripping her ass—both hands squeezing firmly, possessively.

Sam felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. His mind refused to process the scene before him, but his body reacted first. A sharp pain erupted in his chest, his stomach twisting so violently that he thought he might throw up.

Then, he saw it.

Kate leaned in, her lips crushing against Ryan's. It wasn't a small kiss. It wasn't a mistake. It was deep, slow—a French kiss that sent Ryan groaning softly against her mouth. Her body pressed flush against his as if they had done this a thousand times before.

Something inside Sam snapped.

His hands trembled, his breathing shallow, his vision blurred at the edges. This isn't real. This can't be real. He had just gotten a text from her, saying she was at home, resting. Lying.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. His ears rang with white noise. His knees felt weak, like they might give out. He had come here worried about her, terrified that something had happened to her. And all this time, she had been here—doing this.

He tried to take a step back, to turn away before they saw him, but his body refused to move. He was frozen, trapped in this nightmare.

Then, as if fate wanted to twist the knife deeper, Ryan pulled back slightly from the kiss, his lips wet with hers. He smirked, his hands kneading Kate's curves with familiarity, his fingers digging into her flesh.

Kate let out a soft, breathy laugh, her forehead resting against his. "You're really bad at keeping secrets."

Sam's stomach dropped.

"Oh, shut up," she whispered, her fingers stroking Ryan's jaw before tilting his chin up and pressing another kiss against his lips.

Ryan chuckled as their lips parted again. "Why do you keep teasing him always?"

Kate smirked. "Because I enjoy it, that's why."

Ryan tsked, shaking his head. "That's very bad, naughty girl. But I like that."

He paused for a moment, then looked at her with curiosity. "But why? You're his girlfriend."

Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Because he's an asshole. I use him. I don't like him at all. He's not my type—some timid, boring loser."

Sam's breath hitched. His chest tightened, a sharp pain spreading through his ribs. Why… why him?

Kate continued, a sultry smile playing on her lips. "I like you—energetic, exciting… and you have a weapon I could die for. Your long cock keeps me on cloud nine always."

Ryan grinned. "So that's why you haven't kissed him yet?"

Kate giggled. "Of course. Only for you."

Sam's hands trembled. Everything had been a lie. Every moment , every promise—it had all been fake. He had been nothing but a tool, a joke. His mind screamed at him to burst into the room, to demand answers, to yell, to break something—but he couldn't.

Ryan smirked. "What if he comes here and sees us?"

Kate waved her hand dismissively. "That asshole? Please. I've already sent a message. By now, he's gone happily on his way." She let out a cruel laugh, leaning into Ryan's ear. "He's an idiot who believes all my lies."

Sam clenched his jaw, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat.

"I like keeping these types of pets," Kate continued, her voice dripping with amusement. "They make life so much easier."

Ryan chuckled darkly. "Okay, I'll reward you by pouring my load into every hole. Let's go."

Sam felt his body go cold.

His world was not just broken—it was shattered beyond repair.

He didn't confront them. He didn't scream, or shout, or cry. Instead, he turned silently and walked away.

His heart no longer pounded. It barely beat at all.

And as he stepped out into the night, the last remnants of warmth in his soul died.