RICH X B!TCH

CHAPTER 3: RUN, LEAH. RUN Leah’s POV

Leah’s POV

I didn’t answer her. Not at first.

Instead, I picked up an empty glass and started wiping it, as if polishing fingerprints off cheap glass could somehow scrub the decision from my conscience.

What’s it gonna be?

God, I hated that question. It always came when I was standing at a crossroads I didn’t build, with no map and no good option. And tonight—this stupid, sticky, glitter-sick night—was no different.

“You look like you need it,” she said.

I paused.

That hit harder than I thought it would.

Because she wasn’t wrong. I did need it.

That hundred bucks? It wasn’t just cash. It was the fake smile I could wear tomorrow when Armstrong asked about rent. It was a night where I didn’t go home and cry in the shower pretending the water was enough to drown my shame.

I closed my eyes for half a second, then opened them again.

My gaze flicked to the booth.

He was still there—still looking vaguely bored, like even gravity had a hard time holding him down. His hand wrapped around a glass, it was as if he was thinking. Like he didn’t even know some girl was about to throw me at him like a human dart.

I didn’t owe her anything. And I definitely didn’t owe him anything.

But I owed myself a roof. And if kissing a stranger meant one more month of fake stability?

Then so be it.

I sighed and turned to her. “You got change?”

“Excuse me?” She blinked.

“Honey, if I’m about to auction off my pride, I need the deposit first,” I smirked bitterly.

She laughed so loud, a few heads turned. “God, you’re funny.”

“I’m something,” I muttered, but to my surprise she handed me the whole hundred and shot me that smug little “go on, princess, show me what you got” look.

I didn’t walk fast. Didn’t strut either. I walked like a girl who wanted to disappear and hadn’t figured out how.

As I got closer, his face came into focus. Up close, he was even worse—devastating in that “ruin-you-from-the-inside” kind of way. Sharp cheekbones, full lips and the kind of lashes women paid for. And eyes… those damn eyes. They were stormy, moody, and didn’t flinch as I approached.

He didn’t move. Didn’t sit up. Just watched me.

Like he already knew what I was going to do.

I stopped at the edge of the booth, hands clenched behind my back.

“Listen, honey,” I said.

“Honey?” He raised a brow, amused.

I took a breath.

“Your friend dared me to kiss you. Gave me a hundred bucks for it.”

That earned a reaction. He chuckled, slow and low.

“You sure? The way you walked up to me, I thought she paid you to kill me.”

I cracked a small smile. Couldn’t help it.

He had a voice like sin. A lazy kind of confidence. The kind that came from knowing exactly how pretty he was—and knowing exactly how dangerous that made him.

He rose to his feet, closing the distance between us.

I tried not to flinch.

Up close, he smelled like cedar, smoke, and something warm I didn’t have a name for. My brain screamed walk away, but my feet didn’t listen. Maybe it was his devilish smile but I had no idea what possessed me to utter...

“So are we doing this or what?”

He arched a brow, and then a frown.

“You always kiss strangers for money?”

“No,” I stiffened.

“Then why now?”

“Because I’m broke. And tired. And this city eats girls like me for breakfast.”

That shut him up.

I slapped a hand across my lip, ashamed that I’d said too much. Maybe this was my limit. Maybe I couldn’t be the kind of girl who traded pieces of herself, even for rent.

“It’s dumb. Forget I said anything,” I muttered.

But just as I turned—

He caught my wrist.

His fingers were warm.Gentle but firm enough to make me pause.

He didn’t say anything right away. Just stared at me.

Then, slowly, his eyes dropped to my lips.

“You needed to be dared to kiss me?” he asked quietly.

God. Why did his voice sound like sin?

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

He leaned in, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath along my neck. It sent a shiver racing down my spine.

“That’s a little childish, don’t you think?” he murmured, but he didn’t pull away.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Because in that second—God help me—I wanted to kiss him. Not for the dare. Not for the money.

For me.

And that was the scariest part of all.

I could already hear Ava laughing about it in the car on the way home. “She actually did it! I told you she'd fold.”

I turned away immediately.

“I think I should go.”

"If that’s what you want,” he said, letting me go.

I hesitated as I took a shaky step back.

“What about the hundred?” I asked.

“Keep it,” he said without blinking.

I stared at him.

He wasn’t smirking anymore. Just watching me.

I stared at the hundred-dollar bill like it had personally insulted me.

Ava just smirked from across the room, mouthing, "You're welcome."

I could still feel his eyes on me.

I slipped the money into my bra, and turned on my heel back into the bar.

LATER THAT NIGHT

The shift ended, but something felt off. Like the night wasn’t done with me.

I took the same route I always did—three blocks, two turns, no shortcuts. I barely made it past the damn alley before I realized someone was following me.

At first, it was just footsteps. Echoing behind mine. I told myself I was being paranoid. Told myself I was just tired and being f*****g dramatic.

But then I heard it.

A click. The unmistakable metallic sound of a gun being c****d.

I stopped breathing.

My heartbeat started pounding like a f*****g war drum in my ears.

Then…pop! Metal clanged and something sparked near the wall. A shot. A real f*****g shot. I didn’t dare look back. I just ran and screamed.

Faster and faster. Down the next street, past dumpsters, and parked cars. When I glanced back for a split second he was running too.

I tripped not long after—maybe I hit a stone… or maybe it was ‘cause I was already half-d*ad from running on pure panic.

But I didn’t stop…I couldn’t.

The man behind me—he was close now. Real close. I heard him mutter something under his breath. Something sharp and violent.

I scrambled up and ducked behind a parked truck, sucking in shallow breaths.

Why was someone trying to kill me?

Was it because of the guy from the bar? That kiss? The cash I took?

Was it Miss Lupez? Things between us aren’t exactly smooth right now. I know being late’s bad, but I didn’t think it was bullet-worthy.

My head was spinning and my stomach twisted like it knew the end was f*****g near.

Then headlights hit me.

A black SUV rolled to a stop in the middle of the street, and quickly slid down the window.

"Leah, get in!" The voice was deadly serious.

I froze.

It wasn’t a cop.

It wasn’t a friend either.

I didn’t recognize the guy behind the wheel, but something about the way he said my name—

It didn’t sound like a request.

It sounded like life or death

Behind me, a bullet cracked again. It hit the wall inches above my head and the brick exploded.

"NOW!" the guy barked again.

I didn’t think. I just ran straight to the car and yanked the door open, diving in just as another shot rang out. The guy hit the gas before I even slammed it shut.

We sped off hurriedly.

I was shaking, my throat burned from the dry air and fear. My heart was literally in my mouth.

"What the f**k was that?" I gasped, clutching the dash like it could save me.

"You tell me," the guy said, eyes still locked on the road.

He had a scar running down his neck. His jaw was tight and his hands gripped the wheel like he’d choke the life out of it.

“I don’t even know who’s after me. Neither do I know who you are,” I whispered.

The guy pulled a sharp turn, weaving into an alley and killing the headlights. The car settled into darkness.

He looked at me then. Really looked at me.

“You’re in deep s**t, Leah.”