My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 170

Chapter 170 Driving Away In The Rain

:))

The air in the hidden stairwell felt stale and cold. The darkness swallowed us the second the wooden panel clicked shut. Ryder kept a

tight grip on my hand. He navigated the steep, narrow concrete steps with familiar ease. He memorized this escape route years ago. I stumbled over my own wet sneakers. My damp gray sweater stuck to my skin, trapping the freezing rainwater against my shivering arms.

We reached the bottom of the long descent. Ryder pushed a heavy metal door open.

We stepped into the basement garage. The massive space resembled an underground bunker. Row after row of polished luxury vehicles sat under harsh white fluorescent lights. Sleek black town cars lined the left wall. Imported silver sports cars occupied the center spaces. The Steinmann corporate fleet waited in pristine condition.

Ryder bypassed the expensive machines. He pulled me toward the back corner. His battered blue Ford truck looked like a massive, bruised

beast hiding among the sterile luxury.

He opened the passenger door. I climbed into the cab. He tossed my heavy canvas bag onto the floorboards. The wet fabric hit the rubber mat with a dull thud. He slammed the door shut, rounded the hood, and slid behind the steering wheel. He shoved his metal key into the

ignition.

The massive diesel engine roared to life. The loud rumble shook the floor panels and echoed against the concrete walls.

He shifted the truck into gear. We sped up the steep concrete ramp toward the exit. Ryder reached up and pressed a small black button clipped to his sun visor. The heavy steel garage doors rolled open. We burst out of the subterranean dark and into the gray afternoon.

The cold spring rain beat down from the sky. It washed over the windshield in thick, heavy sheets.

Ryder pressed his heavy boot down on the gas pedal. The tires hissed against the wet asphalt. He navigated the long, sweeping driveway. The towering iron gates stood at the end of the paved road. They remained open, unaware of the digital explosion happening in the cloud. We shot through the dark metal bars a fraction of a second before the security system registered a lockdown.

We escaped the surrounding.

Ryder took the winding roads of the affluent hills at a dangerous speed. The massive brick mansions and towering green hedges blurred into dark shapes outside the passenger glass.

The silence inside the cab stretched tight and fragile. The heater blasted warm air from the dashboard vents, but the chill deep in my bones refused to fade. I pulled my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I stared at the dashboard. The digital clock read three in the afternoon. The school day was over. The final bell rang.

The Crestview Prep campus sat empty, but the digital world burned. I pictured the group chat. I turned my phone off, but the messages continued to multiply in the unseen servers. Three hundred wealthy teenagers shared the high-resolution photograph. They zoomed in on the blue ink. They read the exact clauses. They read the calculated rules.

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13:53 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 170 Driving Away In The Rain

:))

The Crestview elite read that line right now. They thought the kiss on the freezing balcony was a scheduled performance. They thought the midnight silk gown was a costume bought for a theatrical production. They believed the devotion in his eyes was a massive,

orchestrated scam.

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The safety net was gone.

We built the fake dating arrangement to survive the semester. I used it to protect my quiet life. He used it to cross the massive canyon between our worlds. We sold a convincing illusion. We walked into the winter formal and commanded the massive gymnasium. We stepped onto the red carpet and forced the affluent elite to respect our presence.

Now, the entire school saw me as a fraud.

Harper Vance sat in her massive bedroom right now, laughing at my downfall. Trent Lawson typed cruel jokes into his phone. They always called me a charity case. They always insisted I lacked the proper status to walk beside the billionaire heir. The leaked contract validated every single toxic insult they ever threw at my face. They believed I sold my dignity for a fraction of his wealth.

Worse than the wealthy bullies, the B-wing students saw the leak. The other scholarship kids. The quiet teenagers who spent their lunches in the library. They looked up to me. They viewed my flawless transcript as proof that hard work could beat immense privilege. 1 shattered that hope. I conspired to deceive the principal. I traded my integrity for a fake relationship.

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