Continues the humiliation

She said. "Ella's little spy dog haha, that what you are. Did you enjoy what you seen yesterday between Tre and myself last night?" Her finger jabs the air between you. "Or did your sissy girlfriend order you to kneel outside her door waiting for her." Her eyes rolling at the thought as if recalling a particularly hilarious joke.

Heat climbs your neck, a flush of shame and fury warring in your cheeks. You couldn't believe Cecilia saw you watching last night. The memory of Tre’s powerful body, the slick sound of flesh on flesh, Cecilia’s cries, it all floods back in a technicolor wave. Your betrayal feels like a physical weight, suddenly made public and cheap.

Your lips part, a defense on the tip of your tongue, I didn't mean to watch, but it sticks. It sounds pathetic even to you. You are pathetic.

Abella's smirk falters, then sharpens. Her eyes, dark and accusatory, flick from your face to your chest. "You've got scratches on your neck," she observes, her voice dripping with a new, venomous understanding. "From her, I bet. From your Ella. Does she mark up her things?" She lets out a short, ugly laugh. "You're her little property. None of the other ladies in class will ever want you now. Ella beta, future last place in class, and soon to be kicked out of the school for being a pervert."

"Unless..." Cecilia said.

You said. "Unless what?"

Abella said. "Come on bitch. Don't let this little perverted asshole get off so easily. He doesn't deserve to be let off scotch free."

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