Holly Baxter's POV

In the group chat, Kiara had just posted: "Guess what? Someone saw Holly crying at the office today! Her coworkers were handing her tissues! This is totally working!"

"Servant 1" replied: "Oh yeah, I heard about that too! Poor Holly, she's so heartbroken."

Kiara: "See? My methods always work."

This circle consisted of Beckham and Kiara's closest friends. Four male members, three of whom were dubbed "servants." Only Keegan used his real name.

Keegan rarely spoke. His replies were brief, usually just a single word. He was more of an observer than a participant.

Most of the time, Beckham and Kiara were flirting, sharing inside jokes only the two of them understood.

Beckham complained about spending too much money on Kiara: "She always wants the latest designer clothes. My account is almost empty."

Kiara's response: "Haha."

She then wrote: "Why is Holly always so mad at my guy friends? She's just jealous that I have so many guys worshiping me."

Beckham: "Don't worry about her. You deserve it all."

I kept scrolling down.

Every time Beckham had been late for a date with me, he was with Kiara.

When I was hospitalized with a fever, he was out partying with her. Those expensive gifts he gave me were her hand-me-downs, now masquerading as my treasures.

Just as I was about to close the messages, a private text from Beckham to Keegan popped up.

Imitating Keegan's texting style, I simply replied with a question mark.

Beckham replied instantly: "Bro, remember Kiara's birthday a month ago? The night I got wasted at her place? Don't ever let anyone know. Never mention it. If Holly asks where I was, just say I was with you."

I typed: "What exactly happened between you and Kiara?"

Beckham: "We agreed not to talk about it. Just pretend it never happened. It's just to avoid drama, you know? Things got... complicated. We were both drunk that night, but we've moved past it."

Holly Baxter's POV

Keegan emerged from the bathroom, holding my freshly washed sweater, his hair still damp.

His expression was calm, but the faint flush around his eyes betrayed his earlier tension.

I gave him a knowing smile. "Keegan, are your hands working fine now?"

He froze.

"Was there something on the clothes?" I pointed at the sweater. "Anything that shouldn't be there?"

He quickly shook his head. "No, Holly. Everything is perfectly clean."

"I'm not going to check, Keegan."

I studied him for a moment—tall, broad-shouldered, and well-built. Far more physically imposing than Beckham.

"I might have another dress for you to wash later."

He lowered his gaze, a slight blush creeping up his neck.

I walked up to him, unbuttoned his shirt, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed him.

I pulled back slightly. "Beckham... he might really be dead, Keegan. This is all... just too overwhelming. Can you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be alone."

I used Beckham's "death" to justify my actions.

Keegan's eyes widened in shock and pure joy. Our relationship had crossed a major threshold.

In my heart, there was absolutely no feeling left for Beckham. Any lingering affection had been thoroughly incinerated.

Holly Baxter's POV

From that night on, whenever I gave the signal, Keegan was there.

A simple text or a call, and he would arrive within minutes. We established an extraordinary rhythm, an intimacy far deeper than anything I'd ever had with Beckham.

His height, stamina, and presence made the whole experience vastly more enjoyable.

I felt a twinge of regret that I hadn't made this decision sooner, instead wasting so much time on Beckham.

I carefully deleted any incriminating chat logs from his phone. I regularly "borrowed" his phone to check the group chat, keeping myself updated on their schemes.

I stopped searching for Beckham. My anxiety dissipated right along with it.

Beckham, however, was starting to panic.

He texted the group: "Has anyone heard from Holly? She hasn't called in days."

"Maybe she's just tired," Servant 1 replied.

"No way. Holly would keep looking no matter how tired she is. Something must be wrong. Should I go back?"

Kiara shot back: "Don't you dare, Beckham! She's probably just trying to provoke you. Let her suffer a little longer."

Beckham: "Fine."

Later that night, Keegan's phone rang with an unknown number.

Keegan and I were in the middle of making out.

I leaned over, answered the call myself, and held the phone to Keegan's ear.

"Hey, man, how's it going? Is Holly doing okay?" Beckham's voice came through.

"She's... fine," Keegan said, his voice husky.

"Dude, is there a girl with you? You sound weird."

"No, it's just... a movie."

I leaned close to Keegan's ear and whispered, "Keegan, focus. You're getting distracted."

Dead silence.

Then Beckham's voice suddenly erupted: "Keegan?! Who the hell are you with?!"