GAME OF SEDUCTION

THE EDGE OF A CLIFF

The harsh blare of my phone alarm at 6:00 AM felt like a physical blow to my temple.

My body throbbed with deep, relentless fatigue as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had barely scraped four hours of sleep, but there was no time to rest. Mason needed breakfast, his lunch packed for school, and I had a brutal set of practicals in morning chemistry.

Thirty minutes later, the small kitchen smelled like butter and warm toast. I stood over the stove flipping eggs, my wire-rimmed glasses constantly sliding down my nose from the steam.

"Mason, eat up," I called out softly, setting a plate down in front of my little brother, who was sitting at the wooden table swinging his legs in oversized sneakers. "Levi will walk you to the elementary school gate on his way to his morning lecture, okay?"

"Okay, Cami," Mason mumbled through a mouthful of toast, looking up at me with bright, innocent eyes. "Are you coming home early today?"

"I'll try, sweetie," I murmured, kissing the top of his dark head.

By 8:30 AM, I was sitting in the basement lab, fighting for my life just to keep my eyes open. Professor Vance's voice droned on about chemical titrations, and every time the double doors opened, my stomach did a violent flip, fearing Liam Lockwood would walk back in. Luckily, the billionaire sponsor was nowhere to be seen—likely busy dealing with his collapsed foundation at the Riverside site.

When class finally ended at noon, I stumbled back to my apartment complex, my shoulder aching from the weight of my heavy textbook bag. All I wanted was to crawl into bed for two hours before planning my next move.

Instead, I found trouble waiting right outside my door.

Standing in the hallway, holding a thick yellow folder and tapping her foot impatiently, was Mrs. Gable—my apartment building's notoriously ruthless landlord.

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit.

"Miss Hughes," Mrs. Gable snapped the second she spotted me, her sharp voice echoing down the narrow corridor. "I've been waiting for you."

"Mrs. Gable, hi," I said, forcing my voice to sound calm as I reached my door. "Is everything okay?"

"No, it is not okay," she sneered, pulling a printed sheet from her folder and slapping it against my chest. "You are two weeks late on your rent balance, plus the emergency deposit fee for adding another occupant—your little brother—to the lease. That's fifteen hundred dollars past due."

"Fifteen hundred?" I gasped, my throat tightening. "Mrs. Gable, please. My stepmother left my brother with me suddenly. I'm working as much as I can between classes—I just need a little time—"

"I don't care about your family drama, child," Mrs. Gable interrupted coldly, crossing her arms tightly. "This is a business, not a charity. You have forty-eight hours to clear the balance in full, or I am filing for immediate eviction and changing the locks."

"Forty-eight hours?!" I pleaded, panic rising hot in my chest. "Please! Just give me until the end of the month! I'm begging you!"

"Forty-eight hours, Miss Hughes," she repeated mercilessly, turning on her heel and walking down the stairs without a single backward glance. "Not a penny less."

I stood frozen in the dim hallway, clutching the eviction notice so hard the paper crumpled in my trembling fist.

Fifteen hundred dollars in two days. It was an impossible sum. Working regular shifts at the coffee shop or taking standard tables at The Velvet Lounge wouldn't yield that kind of money fast enough—not after paying for Mason's groceries and school supplies.

I unlocked my apartment door, stepped inside the quiet room, and dropped my backpack onto the floor.

My hands shaking, I pulled out my denim jacket and reached deep into the side pocket. My fingers brushed against the thick, smooth edges of the sleek black card.

I pulled it out, staring at the raised gold letters gleaming under the hallway light:

LIAM LOCKWOOD

My mind raced. Going to his penthouse was dangerous. He was analytical, sharp, and already suspected Vixen had a connection to the university. If I stepped into his private domain, I would be walking straight into the tiger's den.

"Come to my penthouse tomorrow night. I'll pay you double—triple—whatever the lounge charges you." His deep, commanding rumble echoed in my head.

I closed my eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath as I thought of Mason sleeping safely in the next room. I had no choice. The world was forcing my hand.

I grabbed my phone, typed in the private number printed on the back of the black card, and pressed call.

The line rang twice before a familiar, cold, heavy voice answered.

"Lockwood."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, letting Vixen's silky, velvety tone slide smoothly over my fear.

"I hope that offer for triple pay is still standing, Mr. Lockwood," I purred softly into the receiver. "Because tonight... I'm all yours."