My Sugar Daddy Mocked My College Dream

At eighteen, I became Marcus Carter's exclusive kept woman.

I did it until I was twenty-eight.

He was about to get married, yet he still refused to let me go.

At his bachelor party, I went to pick him up.

Right outside the door, I heard his friend ask:

You're getting married, bro. Has that girl you've been keeping caused a scene?

Marcus crossed his legs, looking utterly relaxed. "She did. She tried to make a deal with me."

"Money or a title?"

His friend asked, taking those two options for granted.

Marcus let out a soft, mocking sneer. "She said she wants to go to Harvard Law."

The room erupted into laughter.

"A high school dropout wanting to go to Harvard Law? What a joke!"

Marcus smiled helplessly, swirling his drink. "Well, she's my girl. If she wants it, I'll buy her way in."

With those words from Marcus, I ignored all the mockery and let my heart settle.

Three months later, Marcus kept his promise and drove me to the campus.

But the registration desk he brought me to was actually Harvard's janitorial hiring office!

He stood there, hands in his pockets, and gestured toward the door.

"With your skills, being a janitor here is more than enough."

Seeing me stand frozen, he laughed softly, tilted my chin up, and whispered:

"What? Not happy? You gave me a condition harder than climbing to heaven just because you wanted to be Mrs. Carter, didn't you?"

I snapped my head away, pulled my near-perfect LSAT score sheet out of my bag, and slammed it hard against his chest.

"Marcus, I did my part. I just didn't expect you to be so useless!"

Marcus looked down at the certificate in his arms.

Stunned for half a second, he flipped through it carelessly and laughed.

"Chloe, how can you be so stupid? You gave me a fake score sheet?"

"It's a bit of a pity you can't be Mrs. Carter..."

As if realizing something, his laugh grew even more mocking.

"You didn't actually think a Harvard degree would make you good enough to marry into the Carter family, did you?"

I looked at him and smileda bitter, mocking smile.

"Mr. Carter, I know exactly who I am."

In the billionaire circle, women like me are just toys. Even though I've been with Marcus for ten years, that's still all I am to him.

"But I've been with you for ten years. Now that it's ending, you can't even get me a college degree?"

Marcus looked down at me, his expression arrogant.

"Baby, I'd love to help, but you haven't opened a textbook in ten years. You can't just get into a school like that."

"Besides, Harvard isn't Carter territory. Did you really think you could fool them with a fake certificate?"

My face went serious as I told him earnestly:

"This score sheet is real. While you were busy preparing for your wedding, I was studying my ass off."

Marcus clarified softly, his hand brushing against my cheek.

"Jealous?"

"You're quite the actress. I almost fell for it. Maybe I should put you in Hollywood. You'd make a great star."

I jerked my head to dodge his hand and sneered.

"Marcus, do you even know me?"

The year I moved into his mansion, the thing I gave up was a 1585 SAT score.

Back then, I had the brains, but I didn't have the power to pay off a three-million-dollar debt.

Today, I still have the brains, but my freedom was bought by him.

The scorching sun began to wear down Marcus's patience.

His tone turned cold and sharp:

"Of course I know you."

"You're putting on this whole show just to remind me not to ignore you, aren't you?"

Hearing that, I fell completely silent.

This conversation was going nowhere.

As my master, Marcus gave me the best food, clothes, and shelter, expecting nothing but my eternal gratitude.

But how could he ever understand that what a caged bird wants most is the endless sky?

"Are you taking the janitor job or not?" he asked.

"No."

"Fine. I'll give you one more chance. Ask for another compensation."

"Send me to Harvard."

Marcus's eyes darkened completely. A mocking sneer slipped from his nose.

"I've spoiled you too much."

With that, he got into his car and slammed on the gas, leaving me stranded.

It was a remote suburb. I couldn't even get an Uber signal.

Pale under the baking sun, I pulled out my phone and called the Harvard admissions office.

The voice on the other end said:

"An LSAT score alone isn't enough for your situation. The fastest way is to retake the SATs and get an outstanding score."

"And of course, ma'am, we hope you understand that tuition at Harvard Law is nearly a hundred thousand dollars a year. Please be prepared."

My body swayed.

I had no money. Marcus rarely gave me cash. If I wanted something, he would buy it directly.

I knew he was afraid I'd take the money and run. After all, that happened all the time in his circle.

Lowering my gaze, I spoke in a hoarse voice:

"I'll take the test first. I'll figure out the money later."

I'd been his secret mistress for so long. If it wasn't for money, did I actually expect love?

Since they all claimed I wanted money, then fine. I would take the money and go.

In the end, I took a local bus back to the city.

The bumpy ride made my stomach cramp until I threw up. I forced myself onto a train, feeling half-dead by the time I made it home.

The mansion was pitch black. Too exhausted to flip the switch, I fumbled my way toward the bedroom in the dark.

"Learned your lesson yet?"

Marcus's voice cut through the silence. He was hiding in the shadows, scaring me so badly I jumped.

Stopping in my tracks, I took a deep breath before whispering:

"Yes."

"Marcus, I don't want to go to school anymore. Just give me money instead. Not much. Just one million dollars."

I was telling the truth.

One million dollars was just pocket change to men like himthe cost of a few lavish dinners.

But Marcus chuckled, leaning back on the sofa carelessly.

"Suddenly, I don't feel like giving it to you."

"Why?" My voice sounded like a dying ember.

"No reason."

He spoke with the arrogance of a man who ruled the world.

Marcus was always impossible to read.

He was willing to pay off my three-million-dollar debt, yet he begrudged me a single million.

He clearly didn't love me, yet he refused to let me go.

At that thought, a surge of anger flared up inside me. I spat back:

"Did Carter Enterprises go bankrupt? Or are you just like those cheap, married old men who count every single penny they spend on their mistresses?"

Marcus stood up and closed the distance. The suffocating scent of expensive tobacco invaded my senses.

"Chloe, sometimes I really want to strip away every single one of your thorns."

His fingers traced slowly along my skin, sending a chill straight down my spine.

Then, he suddenly pulled his hand back, looking almost disappointed.

"But then again, you wouldn't be any fun without them."

He tossed a pile of designer clothes and bags from the sofa over to me, smiling mockingly.

"My wife keeps a tight leash. I can't give you cash, but these little gifts are fine."

"Oh, and she monitors my time, too. I have to go back to her now."

I sneered, unable to resist poking him again:

"She keeps you on such a tight leash, and yet you still can't stay faithful?"

Marcus smirked from the doorway.

"You're just my kept woman. She's my wife. There's no conflict there."

The heavy front door slammed shut. I threw the bags onto the floor in frustration.

Then, remembering their resale value, I swallowed my pride and neatly packed them away.

Looking at the luxury bags, a wave of familiar misery washed over me.

Years ago, I tried to run. But Marcus caught me almost instantly.

After that, I stopped trying, mostly because he wasn't married yet.

My absolute red line was that I would never be the side-chick to a married man.

My mother had been a homewrecker. The legal wife set a trap for her, leaving her penniless and drowning in three million dollars of debt.

I was the one who had to pay for her sins.

Now, I was about to walk down the exact same path.

And I didn't know if I could survive the punishment this time...

The next day, I went to the prep center to pick up my study materials.

Afterward, I went to a luxury consignment shop to sell the clothes and bags Marcus had left me.

But the moment I pulled the bags out, a beautifully dressed woman burst into the store and slapped me hard across the face.

"You shameless little thief! You stole my clothes and bags yesterday, and you're already trying to sell them today?"

The woman who slapped me was Samantha Sterling, Marcus's new bride.

It was as if she had been waiting for me all along.

In that instant, sheer terror seized my heart.

I had no power to fight back. I stood there helplessly as she produced the receipts and called the cops.

The value of the items was high enough to qualify as a felony. She wanted to throw me in prison.

I sat in front of the police officers.

They asked:

"Did you steal these?"

I wanted to deny it.

But if I said no, I would have to tell them I was a mistress, and that Samantha's husband had given them to me.

That would only drag me into a different kind of public humiliation.

Just as the police were pressing me and I was about to speak, Marcus walked in.

Without even glancing at me, he wrapped his arm around Samantha, his voice dripping with smooth charm.

"Who dared to upset you, sweetheart? Why didn't you tell me first?"

Samantha glared at him, pouting.

"Marcus, stop playing dumb."

Marcus shrugged, and only then did he bother to turn his gaze to me.

I had been staring at him, my eyes filled with helplessness and desperation.

Just like ten years ago, when I begged him to save me.

But this time, Marcus didn't save me. Instead, he smiled.

"Pressing charges is such a hassle. Why don't we just lock her up for ten days to let my wife blow off some steam?"

He leaned closer to Samantha, his voice dangerously seductive.

"How does that sound, babe?"

Samantha's face flushed pink.

"Fine, just this once."

From beginning to end, Marcus never said a single word to clear my name.

Instead, he joined hands with his wife to play with me like a toy.

At that exact moment, I knew that if I didn't escape, they would eventually play me to death.

Ten days later, I walked out of the detention center.

My clothes hung loosely on my frame.

And beneath the fabric, my body was covered in bruises.

I had been beaten inside.

Every pack has an alpha, and jail was no exception.

From day one, the cell leader took a dislike to me. She had her lackeys beat me every single day for ten days, finding a new excuse every time.

Because I was too pretty, because I didn't speak, because I did speak, because I refused to lick their shoes...

They dragged me into a living hell and tortured me for ten days.

When I finally got back to the mansion, I stood under the hot water for hours.

Desperately trying to scrub away every ounce of filth and degradation.

Suddenly, the bathroom door was pushed open.

Marcus leaned against the frame, clicking his tongue in mock pity.

"My poor little bird looks so pathetic."

But his eyes held absolutely zero sympathy.

I turned around, swallowing my shame.

He asked again:

"Chloe, do you finally know what you did wrong?"

I ignored his question and asked my own:

"The psychos in thereyou put them up to it, didn't you?"

Marcus raised his hands in mock innocence.

"How could I? I could never bear to hurt you."

"But my wife wasn't satisfied. She insisted on hiring someone, and I couldn't say no to her."

I let out a bitter laugh.

His permission was no different from him doing it himself.

I shut off the water and began to dry myself.

Marcus stepped onto the wet floor, opening a tube of ointment and gently applying it to my bruises.

"Chloe, don't ever sell the things I give you again. Understood?"

His voice was heavy, intimate.

I took a step forward, instantly shattering the suffocating mood.

"Fine. Then give me cash."

"What do you need money for? Have I ever let you go hungry or cold?"

"I want to go to college."

At those words, Marcus suddenly pressed down hard on a bruise, making me gasp in pain.

His voice turned freezing cold:

"What's the point of studying? You'll still end up crawling back to my bed anyway."

"Does school teach you how to please me?"

I wanted to tell him that I wanted a degree so I could escape to somewhere far, far away.

So far that Marcus would completely forget about me.

So that I could forget my past and live the brilliant life I had planned ten years ago.

But I couldn't say it. I didn't dare.

We parted on horrible terms that night.

As if sensing my desperation, Marcus not only locked me inside the mansion but also stationed guards outside the doors.

But I didn't care at all.

My only goal was to get a near-perfect score on the SATs.

Now that I was trapped inside, I had all the time in the world to study.

After a few days of online classes,

the camera turned on, and a completely different face appeared on my screen.

Looking at the handsome face of the man on the screen, a memory flashed in my mind.

He was my high school desk partner, Julian Vance.

"My younger sister was busy, so I'm subbing for her class today."

He was just as shocked to see me, but he quickly explained and proceeded with the lesson.

After class, we caught up.

He asked why I vanished right after graduation, but I avoided the topic.

Julian didn't press me. Instead, he shared what he had been up to.

His family's company was headquartered in Massachusetts, and he had taken over the business after graduating college.

Harvard University was right there in Massachusetts.

Hearing this, a wild idea suddenly sparked in my mind.

After a long silence, I asked:

"Julian, would you be interested in making an investment?"

He paused for a second on the screen, then looked at me with his bright, warm eyes and smiled.

"Tell me about it."

Marcus kept me locked up for a whole month.

If it were the old me, I would have lost my mind.

But now, my days were entirely consumed by studying. I studied day and night, barely sleeping four hours a day.

When Marcus finally came to see me,

the first thing he saw was my deathly pale face.

He frowned, his eyes filled with disgust.

"Where is Chloe? Why do you look like a ghost?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Whose fault do you think that is?"

Marcus seemed to be in a great mood. He just laughed at my snark.

"My bad. I'll take Chloe out for a walk tonight."

He kept his word. That evening, he took me to a high-society gala.

The moment we walked in, whispers broke out around us.

"Mr. Carter and Samantha just got married. They spent a whole month on their honeymoon. Their relationship seemed so perfect; I thought he'd finally discarded this girl."

Someone sneered in response:

"Well, you know men. They get bored of the same face eventually."

Only then did I realize that the month Marcus had vanished was spent traveling with Samantha.

Lowering my eyes, I quietly took a sip of my champagne.

Marcus looked down at me, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Jealous?"

"I'll take you on a trip next time, okay?"

Hearing this, I snapped my head up, hope flaring in my chest.

"Can you take me to Massachusetts?"

Marcus frowned.

"Are you still dreaming about Harvard?"

I shook my head quickly.

"No. I just want to see it with you."

Marcus's expression softened, and he agreed.

"Alright. I promise."

My heart leaped. Mentally, I checked off another step on my plan.

Halfway through the gala, Marcus left to mingle.

I slipped away to the back garden to get some fresh air.

I had barely stood there for a minute when a woman suddenly grabbed me from behind, her voice trembling with rage:

"You little bitch! I finally found you!"

I turned around in utter disbelief.

It was my mother, the one who was supposed to be behind bars.

"When did you get out?!"

Years ago, to pay off her debts, she had conspired with some underground thugs to sell me off.

I had found out just in time and called the cops. She and the entire scam ring were arrested.

I never expected her to be free already.

"You heartless brat, you didn't even come look for me when I got out."

"Hurry, mom is broke. Give me some cash."

I stared at her warily, my voice icy.

"I don't have any money."

"You're sleeping with a billionaire, and you're telling me you don't have money?"

Her voice was shrill, piercing my ears.

Disgust washed over me.

"I don't. You need to leave right now, or he will destroy you."

Her face contorted into something vicious, and she let out a low cackle.

"I gave you a chance, but you blew it. Don't blame me for what happens next."

Before I could react, she shoved a chemical-soaked cloth over my nose and mouth.

In an instant, my knees buckled, and my entire body went limp.

Not far away, a greasy, heavy-set man was rubbing his hands together, staring at me like a piece of meat.

"I heard plenty of rich guys in this circle want to sleep with you. I'll sell you to them one by one. We'll be swimming in cash."

My mother's voice was filled with manic excitement. Horror and despair choked me as they dragged me closer to the man.

As we drew closer to him,

I caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of my eye.

It was Marcus.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, calmly watching the entire scene with a dark, amused smile.

It was a silent, sadistic invitation.

I gathered every ounce of strength left in my lungs and screamed:

"Marcus, save me!"

A look of pure satisfaction crossed his face as he strode toward us.

Seeing him approach, my mother panicked, dropped me, and fled into the darkness.

Before I hit the cold ground, Marcus caught me in his arms.

Shivering violently in his embrace, I grit my teeth and asked:

"If I hadn't begged you, would you have just stood there and watched?"

He smirked, his voice dripping with innocence. "You're my kept woman. How could I ever let someone else have you?"

Then, he leaned in closer, whispering in my ear: "I just wanted you to realize that in this world, you have no one but me. Your only family is trash, and you? You are utterly helpless on your own."

I stared at him, my eyes wide with shock.

Instantly, I understood. He was the one who had tipped off my mother.

From the very beginning, he wanted me to realize that he, Marcus Carter, was my only lifeline.

But what he didn't realize was that every living creature will fight to the death to escape its cage.

And I had my own fight to win.

I reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and softened my voice. "You're right... I guess I really have no one but you."

My submission worked wonders. Marcus finally stopped restricting my freedom.

Two months later, I sat for the SATs.

When the scores came out, I had achieved a near-perfect score.

My tutor was in utter disbelief. "You're a genius! How do you only have a high school diploma?"

I looked down and smiled. "Even geniuses have bills to pay, Mr. Davis."

With the scores in hand, I finally wore down Marcus until he agreed to take me to Massachusetts.

The night before the trip, he held me close and asked casually, "So, how did your little test go?"

My fingers trembled slightly, but I kept my voice steady. "Just average. I just wanted to feel what it's like to study again."

He leaned back, his eyes narrowing with a dark threat. "Enjoying it is fine. But if you actually got admitted, I would just drag you right back. Besides, a broke girl like you would get kicked out of a school like that in a heartbeat anyway."

I leaned into his chest, playing the obedient pet. "I know. I'm staying right by your side."

Marcus smiled in satisfaction.

Three days later, we boarded a first-class flight from Las Vegas to Massachusetts.

I was restless the entire way, constantly looking out the window.

Marcus noticed my anxiety. "What are you so nervous about?"

I grabbed his hand, my voice shaking. "It's my first time flying. I'm just a little scare."

"Pathetic," he sneered softly.

He called the flight attendant over, ordered two glasses of wine, and handed one to me. "Drink up. You'll be there when you wake up."

I took the glass and leaned my head on his shoulder, my eyes darkening. "Okay."

An hour later, the cabin lights dimmed, and we both drifted into sleep.

...

The plane landed in Chicago for a layover.

Marcus was woken up by a flight attendant.

He instinctively turned his head, but when he saw the empty seat beside him, his chest tightened. "Where is the woman who was sitting next to me?"

Startled by his hostile tone, the flight attendant forced a polite smile. "Sir, the lady got off the plane first. Before she left, she told me to let you sleep. Weren't you two parting ways here?"