Page 155 of Mr. Wicked

I released all the air I’d been holding in my lungs and set the invitation on the counter, grabbing the package that I’d placed next to the mail. The box was rectangular and somewhat heavy, and as I read the words that had been printed on the invite, too consumed by it to pull my stare away from it, I ripped off the top of the box. Once it was open, I pulled out a thick piece of wood, the same shape as the packaging, and saw that there was an envelope taped to the top.

Unsure of what I was really looking at, I unsealed the envelope and read the handwritten note inside.

Jovana,

Every year, the department gifts a plaque to the student who receives the most views on their newspaper articles. This year, that student is you by a landslide. Admittedly, we’ve never had an article go viral. When I first had this plaque made, the article had only been published for a week; therefore, the numbers were outdated rather quickly. But given how well your article has done and the amount of attention it gained for our department, I decided to have a new plaque made (which is why this gift is coming so late). Now it shows a much more appropriate number range, which is an increase of over five million views from the original number I’d had printed.

Millions! I can’t believe it!

Our little school newspaper reached such a vast audience and that’s all thanks to you. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, as you were a star student from the moment you entered our department. That was why I never understood why you didn’t want to take credit for any of the articles you wrote. Why you always published them anonymously. Now that I see the career you’ve built and your online presence, it certainly makes sense. Writing opinion pieces doesn’t always mesh well when you’re trying to gain popularity with brands as an influencer ... and given your recent engagement, I assume that article is a skeleton you’d prefer to stay buried.

Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.

If you have any extra time or desire to do any mentoring, the students of the department, especially those who aspire to reach your level of success and emulate you, would enjoy it tremendously.

Like I said, I always knew you’d be a star. I’m thrilled that the world agrees.

Best of luck with everything—including your upcoming nuptials.

Jonathan Myers

Newspaper Director

Boston College

I set down the note, my hand shaking as the paper left my fingers.

Anonymously.

A word that wouldn’t stop repeating in my goddamn head.

I didn’t understand.

I couldn’t make sense of anything.

Not the words that the man had written to Jovana.

Or the article that he had referenced many times throughout that note.

Or the plaque, which I assumed I was holding in my hands.

I glanced down at the front of the wood, realizing I had pulled it out backward, and I slowly turned it around.

My stomach tightened when I saw the name of the newspaper at the top of the plaque, the number of views the article had received.

The title of the article.

Hooked for Life or Marketing Ploy?

The byline.

Anonymous.

The first line that I remembered so fucking well.

If you’ve been online in the last twenty-four hours, then there’s a very good chance you saw the toast Grayson Tanner, Boston’s Biggest Bachelor and cofounder of Hooked, gave aboard the megayacht he’s currently on.

Jovana had graduated from Boston College? I knew she’d been accepted. I saw the letter in her childhood bedroom right before I asked Ernie’s permission to marry her. But at the time and because there had been so many acceptance letters, it hadn’t clicked that she’d gone there. I had just assumed she’d chosen one of the other colleges.

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