The morning after the poker den, Lucia stormed into the cafeteria, her nerves frayed from three hours of sleep and Liam Sterling's infuriating smirk burned into her skull. She barely noticed the whispers until a glossy tabloid hit her tray.
"STERLING HEIR'S SECRET FLING? Billionaire Bad Boy Spotted with Mystery Waitress!"
The photo beneath the headline was damning: Liam gripping her elbow at The Viper's Nest, his shirt soaked with whiskey, her face flushed with fury.
Shit.
Before she could breathe, a hand yanked her into a secluded alcove. Liam loomed over her, his usual arrogance replaced by cold panic. "You're trending in every gossip rag from here to Monaco. The board's threatening to expel me if I 'tarnish the Sterling name' again."
Lucia scoffed. "Expel you? I'm the one who'll lose her scholarship if they think I'm 'distracting the donor's precious heir.'"
"Then we fix this." He pulled out his phone, scrolling to a leaked email chain. "The dean wants a statement. We tell them we're? together. That this - " he jabbed at the photo, " - was a lovers' spat."
She barked a laugh. "You're insane."
"Am I?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "You need the scholarship. I need my trust fund. We fake a relationship until this blows over. No feelings. No strings."
"Why would I ever agree to that?"
His thumb brushed her jaw, a mockery of tenderness. "Because you're as addicted to the game as I am, Moreau. And this?" He gestured between them. "This is the best hand either of us will ever play."
---
Liam's Penthouse | 11:27 PM
Lucia hated how Liam's penthouse suited him - all sleek marble and floor-to-ceiling windows, sterile as a museum. He tossed her a silk robe, nodding to her rain-soaked clothes. "Change. We need to look convincing for the paparazzi."
She glared. "I'd rather freeze."
"Suit yourself." He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing toned abs and a jagged scar above his hip. Lucia's traitorous gaze lingered. "See something you like?"
"Just wondering how many people tried to stab you," she shot back, snatching the robe.
He smirked. "Only the ones who mattered."
They drafted a script for the press: meet-cutes at the library, romantic coffee dates, a fabricated timeline of stolen glances. But when Liam leaned in to "practice a believable kiss," Lucia shoved him away.
"We're not actually kissing."
"You think the press will buy chaste forehead pecks?" His laugh was dark. "You've clearly never been in a tabloid scandal."
"And you've clearly never been told no."
His eyes flashed. "Try me."
---
Midnight Study Session | 1:12 AM
The charade continued in the library's private study room, stacks of ethics textbooks between them. Lucia scribbled notes, hyper-aware of Liam's leg brushing hers under the table.
"Why poker?" she blurted, desperate to break the tension.
He didn't look up. "Why waitressing?"
"Answer the question, Sterling."
He set his pen down. "Control. At the tables, I'm not the heir. I'm not the disappointment. I'm just? a ghost with a good bluff."
She hesitated. "Your parents know?"
"My father thinks I'm at 'networking events.' My mother - " He stiffened, shutting down. "Your turn."
Lucia traced her scar. "After my dad left, Mom drank. I worked anywhere that paid cash. Bars, diners? places like The Viper's Nest."
Liam's gaze softened. "You don't have to go back there. I'll pay - "
"Don't." She stood, chair screeching. "I don't want your money."
"What do you want, Lucia?" He rose, crowding her against the bookshelves.
"To never end up like her," she whispered.
His hand cupped her cheek, calloused and warm. "You won't."
For a heartbeat, she leaned into his touch - then ducked under his arm. "We're done here."
---
The Breaking Point | 3 Days Later
The fake dates grew riskier: Liam's arm slung over her shoulders at rugby games, Lucia laughing too brightly at his jokes in caf�s. But at night, the cracks showed.
Lucia crumpled to her bathroom floor after a call from her mother, gasping through a panic attack. She didn't hear Liam pick the lock, didn't register his hands on her face until his voice cut through the fog.
"Breathe. Breathe, damn it."
She clawed at her throat. "I - I can't - "
He hauled her into his lap, pressing her ear to his chest. "Match me." His heartbeat anchored her - steady, relentless - until her breaths slowed.
"Why are you here?" she rasped.
He tucked a curl behind her ear. "You told the dean we were 'studying.'"
"Liar."
His thumb brushed her lip. "Always."
---
The First Kiss | 2:47 AM
The rain fell in torrents as Liam's limo idled outside her apartment. "You're staying with me tonight," he said, tone brooking no argument.
"I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity." His voice roughened. "It's fear."
"Of what?"
"That if I let you walk away, you'll never come back."
The admission hung between them, raw and dangerous. Lucia kissed him first - a collision of anger and need, teeth clashing, hands tearing at clothes. He groaned, dragging her onto his lap, the partition shielding them from the driver.
"Lucia - "
"Shut up," she hissed, biting his neck. "This doesn't mean anything."
He flipped her beneath him, pinning her wrists. "Liar," he growled, claiming her mouth again.
"STERLING HEIR'S SECRET FLING? Billionaire Bad Boy Spotted with Mystery Waitress!"
The photo beneath the headline was damning: Liam gripping her elbow at The Viper's Nest, his shirt soaked with whiskey, her face flushed with fury.
Shit.
Before she could breathe, a hand yanked her into a secluded alcove. Liam loomed over her, his usual arrogance replaced by cold panic. "You're trending in every gossip rag from here to Monaco. The board's threatening to expel me if I 'tarnish the Sterling name' again."
Lucia scoffed. "Expel you? I'm the one who'll lose her scholarship if they think I'm 'distracting the donor's precious heir.'"
"Then we fix this." He pulled out his phone, scrolling to a leaked email chain. "The dean wants a statement. We tell them we're? together. That this - " he jabbed at the photo, " - was a lovers' spat."
She barked a laugh. "You're insane."
"Am I?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "You need the scholarship. I need my trust fund. We fake a relationship until this blows over. No feelings. No strings."
"Why would I ever agree to that?"
His thumb brushed her jaw, a mockery of tenderness. "Because you're as addicted to the game as I am, Moreau. And this?" He gestured between them. "This is the best hand either of us will ever play."
---
Liam's Penthouse | 11:27 PM
Lucia hated how Liam's penthouse suited him - all sleek marble and floor-to-ceiling windows, sterile as a museum. He tossed her a silk robe, nodding to her rain-soaked clothes. "Change. We need to look convincing for the paparazzi."
She glared. "I'd rather freeze."
"Suit yourself." He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing toned abs and a jagged scar above his hip. Lucia's traitorous gaze lingered. "See something you like?"
"Just wondering how many people tried to stab you," she shot back, snatching the robe.
He smirked. "Only the ones who mattered."
They drafted a script for the press: meet-cutes at the library, romantic coffee dates, a fabricated timeline of stolen glances. But when Liam leaned in to "practice a believable kiss," Lucia shoved him away.
"We're not actually kissing."
"You think the press will buy chaste forehead pecks?" His laugh was dark. "You've clearly never been in a tabloid scandal."
"And you've clearly never been told no."
His eyes flashed. "Try me."
---
Midnight Study Session | 1:12 AM
The charade continued in the library's private study room, stacks of ethics textbooks between them. Lucia scribbled notes, hyper-aware of Liam's leg brushing hers under the table.
"Why poker?" she blurted, desperate to break the tension.
He didn't look up. "Why waitressing?"
"Answer the question, Sterling."
He set his pen down. "Control. At the tables, I'm not the heir. I'm not the disappointment. I'm just? a ghost with a good bluff."
She hesitated. "Your parents know?"
"My father thinks I'm at 'networking events.' My mother - " He stiffened, shutting down. "Your turn."
Lucia traced her scar. "After my dad left, Mom drank. I worked anywhere that paid cash. Bars, diners? places like The Viper's Nest."
Liam's gaze softened. "You don't have to go back there. I'll pay - "
"Don't." She stood, chair screeching. "I don't want your money."
"What do you want, Lucia?" He rose, crowding her against the bookshelves.
"To never end up like her," she whispered.
His hand cupped her cheek, calloused and warm. "You won't."
For a heartbeat, she leaned into his touch - then ducked under his arm. "We're done here."
---
The Breaking Point | 3 Days Later
The fake dates grew riskier: Liam's arm slung over her shoulders at rugby games, Lucia laughing too brightly at his jokes in caf�s. But at night, the cracks showed.
Lucia crumpled to her bathroom floor after a call from her mother, gasping through a panic attack. She didn't hear Liam pick the lock, didn't register his hands on her face until his voice cut through the fog.
"Breathe. Breathe, damn it."
She clawed at her throat. "I - I can't - "
He hauled her into his lap, pressing her ear to his chest. "Match me." His heartbeat anchored her - steady, relentless - until her breaths slowed.
"Why are you here?" she rasped.
He tucked a curl behind her ear. "You told the dean we were 'studying.'"
"Liar."
His thumb brushed her lip. "Always."
---
The First Kiss | 2:47 AM
The rain fell in torrents as Liam's limo idled outside her apartment. "You're staying with me tonight," he said, tone brooking no argument.
"I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity." His voice roughened. "It's fear."
"Of what?"
"That if I let you walk away, you'll never come back."
The admission hung between them, raw and dangerous. Lucia kissed him first - a collision of anger and need, teeth clashing, hands tearing at clothes. He groaned, dragging her onto his lap, the partition shielding them from the driver.
"Lucia - "
"Shut up," she hissed, biting his neck. "This doesn't mean anything."
He flipped her beneath him, pinning her wrists. "Liar," he growled, claiming her mouth again.
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