She Called Him Controlling I Called Him My Ticket To Ivy Chapter 01

She Called Him Controlling I Called Him My Ticket To Ivy Chapter 01

My roommate complained that her online boyfriend was way too controlling, so she decided to pass him off to me.

“He’s always tracking my location and even telling me what to wear. People online say guys like that are possessive freaks who’ll eventually force you into some twisted relationship.”

“Lucky for you, since you don’t have a dad, you’d probably enjoy a controlling old man like him.”

I raised my hand to slap her when a stream of comments flashed before my eyes.

[Girl, what are you thinking? This older guy’s hot, loaded, and has more energy than college kids. Bat your eyes a little, and he’d give you the world!]

[Sure, Josiah’s into the whole “control” thing—but it’s the kind where he forces you into designer clothes, forces you to eat at Michelin-starred restaurants, forces a penthouse on you, forces your green card application through, and forces you all the way from community college into an Ivy League.]

[Don’t worry, this Hazel’s just a plot device. Once Josiah realizes he’s been talking to the wrong girl, he’ll fly back to find our queen Stella, and then we get the steamy possessive romance we’re all here for!]

My raised hand fell gently, and I brushed my roommate’s cheek.

“Thanks, I’ll give it my best shot.”

It’s not about the money.

I just really want to get into an Ivy League.

***

The moment I got Stella Reed’s burner account, I changed the password.

The second I logged in, my screen was flooded with messages that made my head spin.

[You alright? Why aren’t you replying?]

[Skipping classes again? Why’s your location stuck at the dorm?]

[Answer the phone.]

The last one was sent two hours earlier: [I’ve bought a plane ticket back. You’d better have a good explanation for this.]

Seeing that, I quickly scrolled through their chat history.

Just as Stella had said, he was an older guy who lived abroad most of the year. They hadn’t chatted much, but every time they did, he’d ask Stella what she’d done that day, if she’d eaten, if she’d studied.

He’d even urged her to transfer from community college to a university, then go to grad school, then get a PhD.

It wasn’t all lectures, though; he’d send her money, five grand at a time.

That was a lot for an average college student, but for Stella, it wasn’t even enough for a single designer bag.

Stella had tried asking for more, but he’d turned her down.

[I’ve checked. Most students get no more than two grand for living expenses. Five grand is more than enough.]

[Don’t flaunt your money. You don’t want to stir up jealousy at school.]

Those two lines must have made Stella write him off as a cheap, preachy old man—one she’d happily handed over to me.

It had been two days since their last chat, and Stella’s radio silence had pushed him to the edge.

I hurried to the text box and typed an apology as fast as I could.

[I’m so sorry, I’ve had a high fever for the past two days, I’ve been delirious, and my phone broke too.]

Less than three seconds after I sent it, a voice call popped up.

I took a deep breath, declined it, and typed an explanation: [My throat’s completely hoarse, I can’t talk…]

He was silent for a few seconds, then a bank transfer notification popped up on my screen.

100,000 dollars.

[Is this because I didn’t give you extra money last time? Are you mad at me?]

I counted the zeros on the screen, my fingers trembling slightly.

A hundred grand, just like that.

Whoever said this guy was cheap was dead wrong; he was insanely generous!

I didn’t accept the transfer and typed back: [I don’t want money.]

[Then what do you want?]

I stared at his words, my heart thudding in my chest.

[I don’t want to go to school anymore.]

The chat box went silent the second the message was sent.