GAME OF SEDUCTION

PLAYING WITH FIRE

The bass from the club thrummed through the floorboards, matching the rapid beat of my heart as I pushed past the sheer velvet curtain of VIP Booth Four.

Liam was waiting for me.

He had shed his suit jacket, wearing only his white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He sat back against the dark leather, a glass of amber scotch resting loosely between his fingers. When his slate-gray eyes locked onto mine, the sheer intensity of his gaze almost made me take a step back.

I forced every trace of Camila Hughes down into the dark, stepping fully into the amber glow as Vixen.

"Back so soon, Mr. Lockwood?" I purred, my voice dropping into that slow, velvety register. "I didn't think a busy man like you had time for repeat visits."

"I don't," Liam said, his voice a low, heavy rumble. "Unless I find something worth my time."

I didn't give him room to think. I glided over, shifting onto the plush leather sofa right next to him. The metallic silver silk of my dress caught the light, clinging to every curve. Slowly, I reached out, my long, manicured fingers tracing a deliberate path over his broad shoulder, down the arm of his crisp dress shirt, and lingering lightly over his knuckles.

I leaned in close, letting the warm, sweet scent of wild cherry blossom envelope him completely. I felt the sudden, rigid tension in his muscles, the way his breath hitched as I brushed my lips tantalizingly close to the shell of his ear.

"And am I worth your time?" I whispered, my breath warm against his skin.

Instead of leaning into the tease, Liam's hand moved like lightning. His broad, warm fingers wrapped firmly around my wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to hold me pinned right where I was.

He turned his head, his face inches from mine. His sharp eyes scanned every millimeter of my features, searching, calculating, hunting. The cat-and-mouse game had officially begun.

"You smell like cherry blossoms," Liam murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips before cutting back to my eyes. "It's a very specific scent. Unique. In fact, I smelled that exact same fragrance earlier today... on a quiet chemistry student at Houston University."

My blood ran completely cold. A spike of pure panic pierced my chest, but I forced my expression to remain utterly serene. I let out a low, throaty laugh, using my free hand to gently trace the line of his jaw, coaxing his focus away from his deduction.

"Are you comparing me to a college kid, Mr. Lockwood?" I teased, leaning closer until our lips were practically touching, the static between us almost unbearable. "I'm flattered, but I assure you... no student could ever give you what I can."

Liam's grip on my wrist softened, his thumb moving slightly to stroke my pulse point. He was staring at my mouth, his head tilting down, his dark eyes darkening with a dangerous, heavy desire. He was so close. In three seconds, he was going to look past the dramatic makeup and the dark wig and see her. He was going to figure it out.

Suddenly, the harsh, bright buzz of a phone shattered the air.

Liam froze, his brow furrowing as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and the atmospheric spell between us instantly broke.

"Lockwood," he answered, his tone shifting into cold, corporate steel. He listened for two seconds before his jaw tightened. "What do you mean the Riverside foundation collapsed? Get the security team and the engineers on-site now. I'm on my way."

He hung up, the raw stress of his empire crashing back down on his shoulders. He stood up, smoothing his shirt, before looking down at me with an expression that was pure frustration. He was so close to pulling back my mask, and he knew it.

Liam pulled a sleek, heavy black business card from his silver cardholder and tossed it onto the mahogany table between us.

"There's an emergency at my development site," Liam said, his voice authoritatively smooth. "I don't have time for this tonight, but I'm not finished with you, Vixen. Come to my penthouse tomorrow night. I'll pay you double—triple—whatever the lounge charges you. Just to sit, talk, and finish this."

I looked at the card, then up at his piercing gray eyes. Every self-preservation instinct in my body screamed no. This was just a side hustle to keep a roof over Mason's head. I couldn't let this billionaire drag me deeper into his web, or he would destroy my real life.

"I don't do house calls, Mr. Lockwood," I said softly, standing up.

"Name your price," he replied smoothly, unbothered. "Keep the card."

I picked up the sleek black card, sliding it between my fingers. I stepped into his space one last time, rose up on my tiptoes, and planted a swift, electric peck directly on his cheek, leaving a faint crimson mark.

"Goodnight, Liam," I whispered.

Before he could respond, I turned on my six-inch heels and slipped past the velvet curtain, disappearing into the dark hallway before he could see the sheer relief wash over my face.

An hour later, the silver dress, dark wig, and crimson lipstick were stowed away in my hidden locker.

I unlocked the door to my apartment at nearly 2:00 AM, slipping off my beat-up sneakers in the dark foyer. I thought the apartment would be silent, but a soft light was glowing from the kitchen.

Levi was sitting at the small wooden table, an open textbook in front of him and a pencil behind his ear. He looked up as I stepped inside, his brow furrowed with deep concern.

"Cami," Levi said softly, checking his phone screen. "It's past two. What kind of coffee shop keeps you until two in the morning?"

I swallowed hard, rushing to my mental defense wall. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't drag Levi into the darkness of my secret life.

"It was a late close, Levi," I brushed him off quickly, walking over to the sink to pour a glass of water, keeping my back turned. "The manager needed extra help cleaning the inventory. Plus, I have to work three different jobs now if I'm going to support Mason. You know how it is."

Levi let out a long sigh, standing up from the table. He didn't push further, though the worry in his eyes remained. He walked over to the stove and pulled a small pot off the burner.

"You're burning the candle at both ends," Levi said gently, scooping a bowl of warm leftover pasta and setting it on the counter for me. "Eat this. You look like you're going to faint."

"Thanks," I murmured, the warm scent of the food making my stomach rumble.

"And don't forget," Levi added, leaning against the counter and pointing a finger at me with a stern, protective smile. "You have a massive series of practicals in morning lab tomorrow. Professor Vance isn't going to care if you worked all night. You have to be ready, or your scholarship is toast."

"I know, I know," I sighed, taking a bite of the pasta. "I'll be ready."

"Good. Now finish eating and go to sleep, superwoman," Levi chuckled softly, gathering his backpack to head toward the sofa.

I sat at the kitchen counter in the quiet apartment, listening to the soft, steady breathing of my little brother sleeping in the bedroom nearby. I pulled the heavy black business card out of my denim jacket pocket, staring at the raised gold letters: LIAM LOCKWOOD.

I knew I shouldn't go to his penthouse. I knew it was a dangerous trap. But as I traced the edge of the card, I realized the game was no longer just about survival—it was becoming personal.