Wrongly Accused

You broke my wings and watched me bleed,

You framed my pride to feed your greed.

But out there in the freezing rain,

I found my strength within the pain.

Now you stand on bended knee,

Begging for what can never be.

Drown in the tears you made me cry,

As I spread my wings and learn to fly.

CHAPTER 1: THE GOLD BOY AND THE GHOST

The ticking of the cheap plastic alarm clock sounded like a death march in the quiet hostel room.

It was exactly 5:00 AM.

Zoya forced her heavy eyelids open, a sharp ache shooting through her entire body. She had crawled back into her bed past 2:00 AM after a brutal double shift at the luxury hotel downtown. She didn’t have the luxury to rest, though. As an international scholarship student from a poverty-stricken background, this elite institution was her only ticket to survival.

She looked at her reflection in the small cracked mirror. Pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, but her gaze held a fierce, unyielding pride.

“You can’t break now, Zoya,” she whispered to herself. She grabbed her worn-out bag, strapped on her faded watch, and bolted out the door.

...

The first half of the day was a blur of high-level lectures. Zoya always claimed the very first bench, hanging onto every word the professors said. While the wealthy girls around her gossiped about designer brands and weekend yacht parties, Zoya kept her eyes glued to her notebook. She didn’t belong in their world.

The moment the final bell rang, she didn’t join the campus social life. Instead, she rushed to the city’s most expensive five-star hotel, slipping into her stiff waitress uniform.

Carrying heavy trays, enduring the patronizing stares of elite customers, and standing on her feet for hours—this was her grueling reality.

By 11:00 PM, she was walking back down the dark, dimly lit alley toward the hostel gates. Every muscle in her body screamed for sleep.

Screeechhh!

Sudden, blinding high-beams pierced the darkness. A sleek, midnight-black sports car swerved aggressively, braking just inches away from her. The deafening bass of club music vibrated through the air as loud, arrogant laughter erupted from inside.

The butterfly doors swung open, and he stepped out.

Aaryan Malhotra.

The billionaire heir, the trustee’s son, the campus king, and the most arrogant guy in the entire university. His dark hair was perfectly messy, his designer jacket half-unbuttoned, and his face carried that effortless, mocking confidence that only unlimited wealth could buy. A pack of his wealthy friends leaned out of the car, watching the scene unfold.

Aaryan stepped directly into Zoya’s path, blocking her way. His sharp eyes scanned her faded clothes and messy hair with blatant amusement.

“Hey... out a bit late, aren’t we? Are you a new admission or something?” Aaryan asked, a lazy, smirk playing on his lips. His tone was light, condescending, as if he were talking to a stray puppy.

His friends snickered from the car. Aaryan was used to girls melting under his gaze, stuttering over their words just to get his attention. He expected this girl to tremble or blush.

But Zoya did neither.

She raised her exhausted, dark eyes. There was no fear. No awe. No reaction whatsoever. She looked at the campus golden boy as if he weren’t a billionaire heir, but just an annoying piece of trash blocking her way.

Without uttering a single syllable, without changing her expression, Zoya took a cold step to the side. She completely ignored him, brushing past his shoulder, and walked straight through the hostel gates. The security guard slammed the heavy metal doors shut behind her.

Outside, the music suddenly felt too loud for the dead silence that followed.

“Woah... Aaryan! Looks like the ghost didn’t even recognize the king!” his best friend roared with laughter from the front seat. “Did billionaire Aaryan Malhotra just get brutally ignored for the first time in his life?!”

Aaryan’s face flushed a dangerous shade of crimson. His hands clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists. His massive ego had just been shattered into pieces. A penniless, nobody of a girl had treated his existence like dirt.

He slammed his fist against the hood of his sports car, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he glared at the closed hostel gates.

“How dare she...” he hissed under his breath, his voice dripping with venom. “I am going to make sure your life in this college becomes a living hell.”