He did not even spare Morgan a glance.

Turning directly to the tutor, Dean said calmly, “I was there when Hazel stayed up late to finish her assignment. There’s no way she plagiarized. As for why there’s overlap…”

He paused before finally looking at Morgan. “That’s something you should ask someone else.”

The tutor knew about Dean and Morgan’s relationship. Now, seeing that Dean not only refused to protect his girlfriend but was openly testifying for Hazel instead, and factoring in the Lyons’ background, it instantly tipped the scales for him.

His expression darkened with fury as he pointed straight at Morgan. “Morgan! What else do you have to say for yourself? The evidence is clear! I’m extremely disappointed in you!”

Morgan stared at Dean in disbelief. If this had happened before, she might not have understood why he would treat her like this. However, now that she knew the truth, she understood it all perfectly well.

For Hazel, he could fake a relationship with her. For Hazel, he could post her private photos publicly. Hence, it was no surprise that he was now pinning the offense of plagiarism onto her to protect Hazel. The pain tore through her chest, but she also knew that any explanation would be meaningless after Dean’s words.

The tutor dismissed Dean and Hazel first. Then, he harshly reprimanded Morgan again, declared her assignment void, and recorded the incident in her academic file.

Morgan left the office in a daze. The moment she stepped into the hallway, she saw Dean leaning against the wall alone, clearly waiting for her. She stopped in her tracks, looking at the man she had loved for two years, the man who had deceived her, used her, and hurt her from beginning to end.

Her voice came out hoarse and trembling. “Dean… don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

He looked up, his eyes calm and indifferent as ever. “Hazel accidentally deleted her assignment yesterday. It was close to the submission deadline, so she asked to use yours as a reference.”

A reference? Was copying it word for word, down to the same typo, considered a reference?

Morgan found it hard to breathe.

Dean continued speaking in that cold, pleasant voice that now sounded unbearably cruel. “You’ve lost your spot in grad school. Hazel is still competing for hers. This assignment is important to her. As for you…” He paused briefly. “Since you’re in this situation anyway, it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

Everything he said revolved around Hazel. He never once considered how she felt or how much this would hurt Morgan.

The overwhelming grief and rage finally drowned Morgan. She could not hold it in anymore. She broke down, screaming and crying hysterically, pouring out every ounce of grievance, pain, and despair she had been suppressing.

It was probably the first time Dean had ever seen the gentle, obedient Morgan in such a state. His brows knitted slightly in confusion. Whenever they disagreed in the past, all it took was a faint frown from him, and she would immediately give in, no matter how unreasonable the request was, even if it meant handing her assignment over to Hazel.

So what was going on this time?

“It’s just an assignment,” he said, frowning as he grabbed her wrist. “Why make such a scene? Enough. Haven’t you always wanted to have a meal with me? I have time today. I’ll take you.”

Morgan forcefully shook his hand off. The motion carried all the despair and anger she had bottled up for far too long.

“I’m not going!” Her voice shook with emotion, her eyes red as she glared at the man she once loved with her whole heart. “Dean, I’m not that pathetic! If you don’t want to eat with me that badly, then don’t ever eat with me again!”

With that, she turned around and ran from the suffocating place.

Dean stood where he was, watching Morgan leave. It was the first time she had resisted him so fiercely—one could even call it defiance. A trace of confusion and displeasure appeared on his face.

The Morgan he knew had always looked at him with careful admiration and unquestioning obedience. She never disobeyed him. If he frowned even slightly, she would immediately reflect on herself and then soften her voice to appease him. Now, the light in her eyes seemed to have gone out, replaced by something he could not understand—cold despair and distance.

He wondered. Was she just throwing a tantrum over the assignment? If she were, how immature of her.

He did not chase after her. To him, this really was nothing more than a trivial matter. Comforting Hazel required effort, but comforting Morgan? There was no need. She would calm down on her own.

With a detached expression, Dean looked away and walked off in the opposite direction.

Morgan went to the cafeteria alone. She barely tasted the food as she forced a few bites down and headed straight to the admin office to process her withdrawal.

When she gave her reason as “studying abroad,” the administrative staff showed brief regret over her previously excellent grades. Still, with the photo scandal circulating across campus and the plagiarism accusation that had just erupted, their response remained purely procedural. There was no real attempt to persuade her to stay.

“Withdrawal approval will take a few days to process,” the administrative staff said. “During that time, you’re expected to attend classes as usual.”

“Thank you,” Morgan replied softly, her expression blank.

She moved through the rest of the day like a walking corpse. When the final bell rang, she hugged her books to her chest and followed the crowd out. As she passed the small campus garden, she noticed a group of students running in one direction, their voices buzzing with excitement.

“Quick, quick! There’s a fight up ahead!”

“Oh my God, it’s Dean! I’ve never seen the campus heartthrob so angry!”

“He’s fighting for Hazel! A classic case of rage for love!”

Morgan stopped in her tracks. Her heart felt like it had been pricked by a fine needle, not enough to bleed but enough to hurt. Without fully understanding why, she followed them ahead. Sure enough, a small crowd had formed. At the center, Dean was locked in a vicious fight with another male student.

Dean was usually cold, restrained, and always composed. Now, as if someone had crossed his boundaries, his movements were brutal and unrelenting, every punch landing hard. That stunning, untouchable face was twisted with a fury few had ever seen.

Fragments of conversation drifted into her ears.

“I heard that guy confessed to Hazel, got rejected, and then tried to get handsy…”

“Dean is normally so calm. Who knew he’d actually throw punches?”

“But isn’t Morgan his girlfriend? Why is he fighting so hard for Hazel?”

“Tsk, you don’t get it? With those photos of Morgan going around, how could Dean ignore them? He probably got sick of her ages ago…”

Morgan listened quietly. She thought her heart had turned numb, but those words still stirred something painful within her.

Just then, Hazel squeezed through the crowd, looking like a startled fawn. Crying, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Dean from behind.

“Dean, stop fighting! I’m scared… Please, stop…”

Dean froze. He released the battered student and turned around. The violent air around him vanished almost instantly, replaced by a gentleness so awkward and careful that Morgan had never seen it before.

He wiped Hazel’s tears with deliberate tenderness, his voice low and soft. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve stopped. Did I scare you?”

Like poison, that level of tenderness and devotion Dean showed shattered the very last illusion Morgan had been clinging to. He had never looked at her like that or spoken to her in that tone. Even during the most intimate moments between them, he had been so repulsed that he let his younger brother take his place.

How blind had she been to believe he ever liked her?

At that moment, Dean’s gaze swept over the crowd and met Morgan’s. He froze again, clearly not expecting to see her there. A flicker of complicated emotion surfaced in his eyes so fast that even he did not seem aware of it.

His lips parted. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but Morgan looked away first. As if she had merely seen an irrelevant stranger, she turned around and left, her face expressionless.

Dean stared at her, his brows knitting unconsciously.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Hazel asked softly, leaning against him.

“Nothing,” he replied, withdrawing his gaze. His tone returned to its usual gentleness, yet the unease in his chest refused to fade.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Jake, briefly explaining the argument with Morgan and the fight earlier, telling him to comfort her later that evening.

Jake replied quickly. [Why bother comforting her? Just break up with her.]

Dean stared at the message, his fingers pausing mid-air.

Right. Why should he bother? However, he could not quite explain it to himself. After a moment of silence, he typed a justification that sounded reasonable enough:

“Hazel hasn’t been offered a place in grad school yet. The act has to be convincing. Morgan’s emotionally unstable. If she makes a scene and it affects Hazel, it’ll be troublesome.”

Jake responded immediately. [Got it. I’ll go back tonight and handle it.]

That night, Morgan returned to the apartment, exhausted both mentally and physically. She lay down early, closing her eyes almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Not long after, she heard movement at the door. Jake was back.

“Morg, why are you asleep so early today?” He leaned close, his voice carrying its usual careless intimacy.

Morgan faced away from him, her voice flat. “Nothing. I’m tired.”

He caught the coldness in her tone and wrapped his arms around her from behind, slipping easily into his familiar role. He repeated the same polished explanations about the assignment and the fight, using the same hypocritical logic as always.

She listened numbly as she thought about how flawless the brothers' act was, with one hurting her and the other comforting her. She closed her eyes, unwilling to say another word.

Seeing her remain silent, Jake leaned in out of habit, brushing kisses along her neck, his hands beginning to wander.

Morgan shoved him away hard, her voice tight with suppressed exhaustion and disgust. “I said, I’ve been really tired lately. I don’t want to.”

Rejected again and again, Jake’s expression darkened slightly. However, seeing how pale she looked, he swallowed his irritation in the end.

His tone relaxed. “Alright. Then get some sleep.”

The next morning, when Morgan woke up, she was stunned to find that Jake had not disappeared early like he usually did; he was still there.

“Why are you still here?” she asked.

“If not here, where else would I be?” Jake smiled naturally and leaned over, trying to pull her into his arms again. “I made you, my love, upset yesterday. I took the day off to make it up to you. Okay?”

Morgan instantly understood everything. Dean must have dumped the responsibility of comforting her entirely onto his younger brother because he could not be bothered to pretend anymore.

A sharp pain stabbed her chest. She was about to say it was not necessary, but Jake did not give her the chance. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

“Didn’t you always want to do that ‘one hundred things couples must do together’ thing with me? Today, I’ll do them all with you.”

He did not allow her to refuse. He dragged her out, moving from one place to another, from watching a movie to wandering through an amusement park, and eating desserts, checking off every activity that looked sweet and romantic on the surface.

They dragged it out until nightfall, where he took her to an upscale private club.

“Have a drink and relax a little.” Jake settled her onto the sofa inside a private room. “I’ll get us more drinks. I’ll be right back.”

After he left, only Morgan remained in the room. She leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. All she wanted was for everything to end as soon as possible.

Suddenly, the private room door was slammed open. Several men reeking of alcohol stumbled inside, and when they saw Morgan, their eyes lit up immediately.

“Well damn! There’s a girl in here too, and she’s not bad at all.”

“Come on, have a drink with us. How much for a night?”

“I’m not–” Morgan jumped to her feet in panic, her face turning pale as she tried to explain.

“Don’t play innocent,” one of them sneered. “Everyone who comes here knows what this place is for.”

They did not believe her. Laughing obscenely, they surrounded her, and someone even turned around and locked the door.

Morgan retreated in terror, struggling and calling for help. However, she was only a woman and was powerless against several drunk men. As they tore her clothes off, despair drowned her whole.

Just as she thought it was truly over…

“Bang!”

The door was kicked open from the outside. Jake stormed in, fury written all over his face. When he saw what was happening, his eyes instantly turned bloodshot. Like an enraged panther, he charged in without hesitation. His blows were ruthless, fists and kicks landing one after another as several men went down in moments.

However, he was still outnumbered. In the chaos, someone grabbed an empty bottle and swung it straight at Morgan.

“Watch out!” Jake roared as he lunged forward, shielding her completely beneath his body.

The bottle smashed hard against the back of his head, shattering instantly. Blood poured down at once. He let out a muffled groan, his expression turning even more vicious, before he spun around and sent the attacker flying with a brutal kick.

At last, the club’s security and management arrived, quickly bringing the situation under control. Jake staggered, all his strength gone, and collapsed into Morgan’s arms. Staring at the blood still flowing from his head, Morgan’s mind went blank. Her hands trembled as she called for an ambulance.

That night, she stayed at the hospital. By early morning, the nurse gently urged her to get some rest.

“The patient is stable now. He’ll wake up soon. You should get some sleep.”

Exhausted, Morgan nodded. Halfway down the hall, she realized she had left her jacket in the room and turned back to get it. Just as she reached the door, she heard Jake’s voice from inside. He seemed to be on the phone.

“I’m fine. I’m not dead.”

The person on the other end said something, and Jake snorted.

“Obviously. If I didn’t stage that whole hero-saving-the-damsel act, how else would I get her to sleep with me again?” He clicked his tongue and said, “She’s great in bed. Fair skin, soft waist, and most importantly… she sounds exactly like Hazel in bed. I love it. It’s like I’m sleeping with Hazel.

“Do I like Hazel? Of course I do.” He laughed quietly. “But my brother likes her too. What can I do? Steal her? Forget it. Hazel likes my brother. They’re in love. I’ll just stay on the sidelines. As long as my brother hasn’t dumped her yet, I’ll sleep with this one as many times as I can.”

Outside the door, Morgan’s world was shaken. Her entire body went ice-cold.

As it turned out, the terrifying, life-or-death rescue last night had been a performance he orchestrated himself just to make it easier to sleep with her again—to use her as a substitute for another woman. She had thought that, at the very least, there had been a shred of sincerity in the way he protected her. However, the truth was, it was all just a cruel joke, one worse than Dean’s cold indifference.

Clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud, Morgan staggered away from the hospital.