Billionaire Ex's Blind Date Trap

Blind dating my exboyfriend.

When I got home, Mom looked torn. "That boy isn't right for you, Maeve." I pushed back on purpose. "I'm a sucker for long legs." Mom scoffed. "Tall guys put too much strain on their hearts.

They age like milk." I crossed my arms. "He's gorgeous." "Gorgeous means he's a player. You can't handle a guy like that." I completely abandoned my dignity. "I don't care!

I want him!" Mom snapped, losing her cool. "Do I really have to spell it out? He wasn't into you!" CHAPTER 1 Good news: my blind date was dropdead gorgeous with legs for days.

Total catch material. Bad news: he was my exboyfriend. What's worse than the mortification of being set up with your ex?

The matchmaker blatantly lying through her teeth to sell you. "Maeve eats like a bird," Miriam gushed. "She's so lowmaintenance." Buzz. My phone vibrated against the table.

I picked it up, and my vision tunneled.

It was a text from the ghost of boyfriends past. "You call inhaling three double cheeseburgers, a massive basket of loaded fries, and a dozen wings 'eating like a bird'?" "And she's incredibly sentimental," Miriam continued. "Sentimental girls are the most loyal." My screen lit up again.

A text from Hayes popped up: "Oh, she's sentimental all right.

Wore the same pair of socks for three weeks straight until they classified as a biohazard." "Plus, she's an amazing cook.

Fivestar chef level, honestly." Another text from Hayes: "Remember that batch of homemade chili that gave me food poisoning and landed me in the ER getting my stomach pumped?" I'd reached my absolute limit.

I slammed my hands on the table and shot up from my chair. Miriam jumped back, clutching her chest in shock. Hayes tilted his head back slowly. His dark eyes locked onto mine.

His gaze was equal parts provocation, icy detachment, and wicked amusement. He was enjoying this. Then I caught Mom's death glare.

My bravado crumbled instantly. "I mean—well said, Miriam!" I squeaked out, shrinking into my seat.

Mom nervously cleared her throat to change the subject, clearly sensing Miriam had overplayed her hand. "I hear you run your own company now, Hayes.

So successful at such a young age." I froze. Hayes had a company? He was a CEO? Is there anything more soulcrushing than your ex thriving after a breakup?

It's the ultimate blow to your ego. Pure, corrosive jealousy burned up my throat like battery acid. Hayes flashed a polite, dimpled smile. "You're too kind, Mrs. Miller.

Just trying to pay the bills." I slyly Googled the company name on the sleek business card he'd slid across the table earlier. My heart officially flatlined.

His net worth was in the nine figures.

He called that paying the bills? "Huh, does this restaurant have a pest problem?" Miriam looked around, frowning. "I swear I hear a rat grinding its teeth." Hayes stared right at me, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah," he drawled. "Times are changing.

The rats are coming out in broad daylight now." The second the date ended, I ripped my phone out to text Cora. "What the actual hell?!" "Is there anything more cursed than being set up with your ex?

YES." "The fact that I haven't seen him in five years and he's loaded!" "Where is the justice?!" "And the bastard is just as toxic as ever.

If he bit his own tongue, he'd die of venom poisoning." "A walking red flag. Ugh, I was so blind.

I'm going to have nightmares about this for a week." Having thoroughly vented, I pulled my car into the mall parking lot. Buzz.

I grabbed my phone, assuming Cora was replying with the appropriate level of outrage. I opened the thread. My soul practically left my body. I sent it to the wrong person.

My screen lit up with his replies. "Wow. Classy." "If I'm a toxic walking red flag, what does that say about your taste?

You dated a monster." "You're so dramatic, a rattlesnake would ask you to chill." "You really have a way with words, Maeve." "Just put me out of my misery." I shoved my phone into my purse, opting for the mature route: playing dead and pretending none of this happened.

It was just a bad dream. I'd wake up tomorrow and my life would be back to normal. At dinner that night, Dad asked how the blind date went.

Mom hesitated, nervously picking at her food before looking at me. "So, Maeve… what did you think of Hayes?" CHAPTER 2 I needed Mom to drop this blind date obsession permanently.

I started spewing nonsense, fully aware Hayes wouldn't look twice at me anyway. "He's great," I grinned. "I'm a sucker for long legs." Mom swallowed hard. "Um. He's too tall.

Puts too much strain on his heart. He'll age like milk." I played dumb. "He's gorgeous.

Solid arm candy." "You don't build a life on arm candy," Mom fired back. "Gorgeous men just attract drama and other women." I crossed my arms. "But he's loaded.

I could be a trophy wife, never lift a finger, and just blow his cash all day. Sounds like a dream." Mom hit her breaking point. She slammed her chopsticks onto the table.

The facade shattered. "Are you dense? Do I have to spell it out for you? He rejected you!" I stared at her, speechless. Dad finally processed the conversation.

He slapped his hand against the wood. "What do you mean he rejected our girl? She's a total catch! Has a massive appetite and is completely zerodrama!" Mom just rubbed her temples.

The rejection chewed at me all night. I punched my mattress. 'Why the hell did he reject me?' Sleep evaded me.

I grabbed my phone and texted Cora. "What's the protocol for getting rejected by your toxic ex at a blind date?" Cora demanded the full story.

She spent a solid thirty minutes laughing at my misery before offering a terrible master plan. "He humiliated you?" "Humiliate him right back. He rejected you, right? Keep dating.

Line up some toptier guys." "Make sure he knows you're highdemand and totally unbothered." A stroke of twisted genius.

I typed back rapidly, rubbing my hands together like a greedy villain. "Loan me Caleb for a minute." Cora replied instantly. "Stay away from my brother.

No cougars allowed." "Come on." After relentless begging, she finally caved.

I dragged eighteenyearold Caleb into frame just long enough to snap a picture of our hands interlocked.

Looking at Caleb's fresh, untainted face, an unwanted memory hijacked my brain. Hayes at eighteen. Arrogant. Wildly reckless.

He used to make the actual sun look dull. "Youth really is wasted on the young," I muttered.

Cora snatched her precious baby brother by the collar and dragged him out of the room, looking genuinely horrified. I opened Instagram.

I uploaded the photo of our intertwined fingers to my story. Caption: "Plot twist at the blind date.

Turns out true love does exist." "Finally found someone with good taste who knows I'm the prize." My DMs exploded almost immediately. "Congrats!

When's the wedding?" "Winning the blind date lottery! Love this for you. Look at those hands. He's definitely hot. Spill the details!" "Ugh, blind dates actually work?

Guess I need to let my mom set me up." An hour passed. Zero reaction from Hayes. I knew for a fact he'd seen the story. He lived on his phone.

Needing to push the knife deeper, I opened our text thread and forwarded him the same photo. I'd play the "oops, wrong chat" card. I already did it once today anyway.

Ninety agonizing seconds ticked by. Hayes replied: "?" Followed by: "Oh. Found true love that fast?" I leaned back, a smug grin stretching across my face. "Yep.

If everything goes right, you'll be getting a wedding invite by December. You better show up." Heavy, suffocating silence from his end.

I doubletexted, pushing my luck. "We have history!

You wouldn't actually skip my wedding, right?" Hayes finally fired back: "Did you even run a background check?" "What?" I frowned, staring at the screen. CHAPTER 3 He didn't reply.

Instead, my phone started detonating with links. "Nightmare blind date case studies." "Married After a Blind Date: Divorced in 72 Hours." "100 Reasons SetUps Destroy Lives." "Psychologists Warn: The Ultimate Red Flags of Blind Dating." "Where Are They Now: The Victims of Blind Date Marriages." "I Married My Matchmaker's Pick and Lost Everything." "The Romance Scam: How a Blind Date Bankrupted Me." I fired back a single question mark. "What is your problem?" His reply was instant: "No problem.

We have history. I just don't want you ending up on a truecrime podcast." My thumbs slammed against the screen: "Don't lose sleep over it. I'll live happily ever after." Midnight.

I pulled the duvet over my shoulders. My phone buzzed against the nightstand. I squinted at the bright screen. A photo from Hayes. A shirtless photo.

A wethair, postshower abdominal masterpiece. He wore a white ribbed tank rolled up, exposing a hard, honeytoned Vline. The bathroom lighting caught every single defined ridge.

When we dated, those abs were my daily obsession. I used to stare at him like a feral animal eyeing a meal.

He'd always laugh, his rough palm cupping the back of my neck. "You're starving," he'd whisper, tapping exactly over my heart. "But not for food." It felt like staring at a perfectly seared, dryaged ribeye sitting right out of reach behind bulletproof glass.

Absolute torture. We had broken up before I ever got to take a bite. A devastating tragedy. I silently hit Save to Camera Roll.

Then, I slipped on my halo. "What exactly is the meaning of this? My boyfriend is going to get the wrong idea." The photo vanished. Message unsent.

A text from Hayes appeared: "My bad. Wrong chat. That was for my girlfriend." Girlfriend. The word slammed into my chest like a crowbar. My ribs ached.

A sharp, stinging numbness spread straight through my chest. I forced my fingers to keep typing: "Wow. That was fast. Don't tell me you're just trying to beat me to the altar?

Listen, fake it all you want, but don't joke about relationships." He sent a cold, mocking emoji, followed by: "Who said I'm joking? I just sent her a halfnaked picture.

I'd say we're pretty deeply connected." He fired another text: "Don't tell me you aren't happy for me?" 'Happy for him?' I wanted to scream.

I wanted to crawl straight up the drywall, rip the curtains down, and bite the nearest pedestrian. The next morning, Todd dragged me to a client meeting.

I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the private dining room. My steps faltered.

Hayes slouched against a tufted leather sofa, wearing a charcoal suit that looked entirely too expensive. Todd clapped his hands together after we finalized the deal.

He shoved me right into Hayes's orbit. "Hayes, Maeve here will be your main point of contact moving forward.

Looking forward to a great partnership." Hayes let his dark eyes drag slowly up my face. "Looking forward to it." They both drank through the lunch, leaving me as the designated driver.

I dropped Todd off first. Then, I pulled up to Hayes's address. A sprawling, modern architectural beast of a mansion. Acid bubbled in my throat.

I twisted the steering wheel. "Don't you get lonely rattling around this giant house all by yourself?" He didn't open the car door. Instead, he leaned across the center console.

The oxygen in the car instantly evaporated. Heat radiated off his chest. The heavy scent of bourbon mixed with his sharp, woody cologne invaded my lungs.

His wild, untamed eyes locked onto mine. A wicked smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

His voice dropped to a low, gravelly hum. "How do you know I live alone?" My breath caught. I shoved myself back against the driver's side window, forcing a tight smile. "Right.

Silly me. Make sure you check under the bed, behind the shower curtain, and inside the air vents tonight.

You've definitely got roommates." Hayes let out a low, vibrating chuckle. "Childish." CHAPTER 4 "Help me up," he ordered.

I rolled my eyes hard enough to see my own brain. "Do I look like your personal butler?" He pulled his phone from his pocket, his thumb hovering over the screen. "Todd. It's Hayes.

Listen, Maeve is—" I lunged forward and smacked the phone out of his hand. "Yes, Your Majesty." Selling my soul to capitalism. Selling it to my exboyfriend. I absolutely hated him.

While I stood in his massive kitchen brewing a heavily caffeinated hangover cure, it took every ounce of my willpower not to spit directly into the mug.

I carried the steaming cup back into the living room. Hayes was already dead asleep on the leather sofa. He had torn his silk tie completely loose.

The top three buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, exposing the sharp, jagged line of his collarbone.

The muted lamps cast heavy shadows over the hard planes of his chest and the honeytoned skin underneath. My throat went dry.

I swallowed hard, my eyes tracking the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing. An eighteenyearold Hayes had been a reckless hurricane, afraid of nothing.

Now, he wore custom Italian suits. He had grown into a devastatingly mature man.

Back then, he used to spin me these massive, impossible fairy tales. "When I make it big, Maeve, I'm buying you a mansion. A fleet of sports cars.

You'll never look at a price tag again." I'd always laugh and roll my eyes. "I'm choking on your delusions, Hayes. Save the speeches, I'm going to buy a fivedollar latte.

Make sure those delusions come with a side of fries," I'd tease. He would laugh, that deep, chestrumbling sound, his rough fingers pinching my cheek. "Don't worry.

I'm going to spoil you rotten." Now, he had the sprawling mansion. He had the ridiculous cars. He built the empire. But the girl standing in his living room wasn't his anymore.

A sudden, familiar pang hit my chest. Hayes's eyes snapped open.

His pupils were dilated, pitchblack and scorching hot. "Done staring?" My competitive streak flared right back to life.

I shoved the hot mug directly into his chest. "Get over yourself. I have a boyfriend. I can stare at him whenever I want." He slouched upward, unfazed.

He took a slow sip of the dark liquid. His dark brows pulled together. "Too bitter." "Beggars can't be choosers, Mr.

CEO," I snapped. "If you want it made perfectly, call your girlfriend to do it." He set the mug down on the glass table. He stood up.

He didn't stop until he was entirely in my space. The physical distance between us instantly vaporized. The heavy, intoxicating heat radiating off his body enveloped me.

I could smell the sharp bite of bourbon mixed with his clean, expensive skin. His head dipped lower.

His warm breath brushed over my cheek, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "It's late," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly hum. "I'd hate to make her drive all the way out here." So I was just the free, convenient corporate slave. "I'm leaving." I spun on my heel. "Take my car.

I'll pick it up tomorrow." He tossed a heavy set of keys. I caught them on reflex. "We're in the hills," he stated coldly. "You won't get an Uber out here at this hour.

If you get murdered, Todd is going to make it my problem." Fair point. I hated him, but I wasn't going to risk my life over a bruised ego.

Assuming Hayes wouldn't bother tracking me down at the crack of dawn, I hijacked his lowslung, outrageously loud twoseater the next morning.

The plan was to pick up Cora and Caleb for a joyride. Cora got dragged into a lastminute shift. So it was just me and Caleb.

The twinturbo engine roared as we tore down the coastal highway. Pure, unfiltered adrenaline spiked my blood.

I used to think guys who bought these microscopic, groundscraping cars were just overcompensating. I was so wrong.

The power vibrating through the steering wheel was genuinely intoxicating. Caleb practically vibrated in the passenger seat. "Maeve, this is insane! Can I drive?

Please tell me I can drive." "Obviously." We swapped seats. Caleb hit the gas, pushing the car to its absolute limits. My phone rang through the Bluetooth speakers.

Hayes. "Where are you?" His voice was clipped. Caleb yelled over the screaming engine, completely out of his mind with excitement. "Oh my god, Maeve! This is so good!

It feels like I'm flying! I'm totally peaking right now!" Caleb instantly slammed on the brakes to take a sharp corner. The seatbelt dug into my chest. A sharp gasp left my lips.

Dead silence fell over the phone line.

Then, Hayes detonated. "What the fuck are you doing?!" he roared, his voice tearing through the speakers. "I said, what the hell are you doing?!" Caleb, completely oblivious to the screaming match coming through the Bluetooth, gripped the steering wheel and grinned at me. "Wasn't that amazing, Maeve?!" I yelled back over the wind. "Incredible!

Go faster!" On the other end of the line, the sharp, violent sound of glass shattering echoed through the car. CHAPTER 5 The line went dead.

I stared at the screen, shrugged, and slammed my foot back onto the gas pedal.

Hell, this was probably the only time in my entire life I'd get to redline a supercar on an empty coastal highway. I was going to milk every single second of it.

Once the adrenaline finally burned off, I dropped Caleb back at his place. I dialed Hayes. The phone barely rang before he picked up. "Hayes," I chirped. "We're all finished up.

When works for you to come grab your car?" "I'm downstairs." I spun around. He was leaning casually against the massive oak tree by my apartment building.

He wore a crisp white buttondown and tailored slacks. The aggressive, corporate edge was gone. He just looked clean. Striking. My ribs tightened. The air physically left my lungs.

I was instantly transported back to the exact moment I met him. It was movein day. I was an overwhelmed freshman. He was the untouchable sophomore.

He took one look at my massive, oversized trunk and flashed this arrogant, lopsided smirk. "Piece of cake." Then he grabbed the handle and hauled it upward.

The blood instantly drained from his face.

I hovered behind him on the stairs, biting my lip. "Is it too heavy?" He gritted his teeth, the cords in his neck straining. "Not even close.

Barely feel it." He hauled that monster of a trunk up five flights of stairs. A true hero. The next day, I went looking for him to say thank you. He ghosted me.

I hunted down his roommate, Austin. "Oh, Hayes?" Austin scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, he blew his back out.

He's totally bedridden." "Wait, how?" "Tried to carry some freshman girl's entire life up five flights of stairs to impress her." I bought out half the pharmacy—IcyHot, pain meds—and a ridiculous amount of snacks.

I marched over to his dorm, only to get stonewalled by Vera, the terrifying front desk monitor. I slapped my hands together, begging. "Vera, please.

My boyfriend threw his back out helping me move. If I don't get this up there, he's going to starve to death in his bed." Vera's icy exterior cracked. She waved me through.

I knocked on his door. It took a solid minute before the lock clicked. Hayes stood there, one hand clutching the doorframe, the other aggressively massaging his lower back.

Surprise flashed in his dark eyes. "How did you find me?" I shifted my weight, stammering. "Look, I heard about your back.

And my dad always said a guy's lower back is… you know, structurally vital. For his… future stamina. And happiness." Oh my god. What the actual hell was pouring out of my mouth.

A slow, wicked laugh rumbled in his chest. "Is that right? Well, seeing as I sacrificed my future stamina for your luggage, doesn't that mean you have to take responsibility for me?

For the rest of my life?" He smiled. It was bright, devastating, and entirely unfair. My brain shortcircuited completely. "Is that a promise?" I blurted out.

Hayes just stared at me. I forced him onto his stomach to rub the icy gel into his lower back. He hissed in pain, his muscles twitching under my fingers. "Jesus, Maeve.

Do you pack solid concrete?" I started listing off my heavy winter coats, my boots, my textbooks.

He buried his face in his pillow, groaning. "Girls are a nightmare." For the next two weeks, I brought him every single meal.

Every time I walked into the dorm, Austin would smirk. "Look, man. Wifey brought dinner." My face would burn instantly.

Hayes would throw a pillow at his head. "Shut up, man." But when he turned back to look at me, the arrogance melted away. His eyes would go incredibly soft, warm, and unguarded.

CHAPTER 6 Hayes and I started dating. No grand, explosive confessions. No cinematic runningintherain moments.

We were just grabbing lunch one day when he leaned his elbows on the table and casually shifted our entire dynamic. "Vera at the front desk told me you've been claiming the title of my girlfriend for a while now." I froze, my teeth hovering inches from my sandwich. "She wouldn't let me up to your dorm.

I had to improvise." His dark eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm a terrible liar, Maeve.

Every time Vera asks where my girlfriend is, I never know what to tell her." I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You aren't suggesting we fake it until we make it, are you?" He blinked, a slow, devastating smirk spreading across his face. "I think we just made it, girlfriend." So why did we crash and burn?

He had wanted to build an empire. I had just wanted a safe harbor. My dream was simple: graduate, work a steady 9–to–5, get married, and have a baby.

But for him, that was suffocating. I wanted the white picket fence. He wanted to bet everything on black. Nobody was the villain. We were just fatally incompatible.

It all imploded on Christmas. I had just landed a solid, corporate job offer. That same day, I found out he completely ghosted a massive tech recruiter. He finally confessed.

He was teaming up with Wesley to launch an indie game studio in a garage. I drew a hard line in the sand. I was convinced his ambition was bigger than his love for me.

He kept selling me on these massive, empty promises, leaving me constantly looking over the edge of a cliff. It wasn't the life I signed up for.

I loved him deeply, but reality brutally crushed us. I just wanted what my parents had—a quiet, predictable life fueled by love, not money. Fast forward five years.

He built his empire. I got my safe, predictable cubicle. On paper, we both won. But the reality? It felt like someone had surgically removed a vital organ. Most days, I was numb.

But the second Hayes walked back into my orbit, icecold air rushed into the hollow space inside my chest, making my bones physically ache.

As I walked up to him under the oak tree, he pushed off the trunk. His eyes were unreadable. "Have your fun?" Guilt instantly spiked my blood pressure.

He definitely knew I took his Porsche joyriding. The bastard probably tracked it on his phone. I nervously licked my bottom lip. "Sorry about that.

It was my boyfriend's first time, so he got a little wild, but I filled your—" "Enough." He completely cut me off.

His face contorted, darkening with barely suppressed, volatile rage. "I really don't need the graphic playbyplay, Maeve. Have some decency." I blinked, completely lost.

He snatched the keys from my hand, practically threw himself into the driver's seat, and peeled out of the driveway. The twinturbo engine roared as he disappeared down the street.

I scratched my head. He was acting completely unhinged. He offered the car! Why was he so pissed? Todd's agency officially signed the contract with Hayes's tech firm.

Since I was the designated liaison, I basically lived at the office.

The crushing workload was one thing, but Hayes made it his personal mission to make my life a living hell. "Page four of this brief is a complete mess," he snapped, tossing the folder across his mahogany desk. "Rewrite it, print it, and bring it back for my signature." I grabbed the file, biting my tongue. "Got it." I was halfway to the door when his voice cracked like a whip. "Forget it.

We don't have time. I'll fix it myself." I glanced out his floortoceiling windows. A sudden, heavy thunderstorm was thrashing the city. Thank god.

Getting an Uber in that torrential downpour would have been a nightmare.

Later that night, long after everyone else had cleared out, the light in his corner office was still burning. The truth was, his work ethic was terrifying.

Breaking into the cutthroat tech industry with zero connections and zero capital was practically a suicide mission. But he pulled it off.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the lights in his office clicked off. He stepped out into the shadowed hallway.

CHAPTER 7 "Still here?" I shoved my laptop into my tote, keeping my eyes averted. "Just wrapped up. Heading out." He stared out the floortoceiling windows.

The city's neon lights bled through the rainstreaked glass, reflecting off his dark eyes. "Why didn't your boyfriend pick you up?" I lied through my teeth. "I didn't want to drag him out.

He's exhausted." A muscle ticked in Hayes's jaw. His expression hardened into a cold, mocking mask. "Wow. You really spoil him.

Are you his girlfriend or his mother?" A twelvehour shift had completely fried my brain. The filter between my thoughts and my mouth simply vanished. "So what?

That's exactly how I treated you." Dead silence. You could hear a pin drop. A flash of something complicated crossed his eyes. Humiliation burned the back of my neck.

I snatched my bag and bolted. I practically sprinted out of the lobby. I stepped off the curb—and a pair of blinding headlights swerved directly at me.

Tires screeched against the wet asphalt. Before I could even brace for the impact, a massive hand locked onto my bicep. A brutal force yanked me backward.

I crashed directly into a solid, heatradiating chest. The heavy scent of rain and sharp, woody cologne swallowed me whole. I looked up.

Hayes glared down at me, his chest heaving against my back. "Watch where the hell you're going," he gritted out, his voice a low, vibrating growl. "Still completely reckless." He ended up driving me home.

We hit a red light. I stared blankly out the passenger window, my eyes locking onto a stunning crimson designer coat displayed in a brightly lit boutique.

He tracked my gaze. "You like it?" "Obviously. But it costs more than my rent.

A regular girl like me can't afford that." A cruel, familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Tell your boyfriend to get it for you.

If he actually loved you, he'd live off instant ramen for a month just to buy it." We both froze. For my twentieth birthday, Hayes gave me a silver pendant.

He had eaten nothing but ninetycent ramen cups for thirty days straight to afford it.

When he fastened the delicate chain around my neck, his rough, calloused fingertips brushed against my nape.

It sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm going to buy you diamonds, Maeve," he had whispered against my skin. "For every birthday, every anniversary, every Christmas…" I had sobbed right into his chest. "You're always selling me these massive fantasies.

And I fall for it every single time." When I walked away from him for the final time, I unclasped that necklace. I left it in its little velvet box on his bed.

Suffocating silence filled the car. I forced a harsh scoff, breaking the tension. "I'm in my independent woman era," I snapped. "I don't need a man to finance my closet.

I make my own money." Hayes let out a low, noncommittal hum. He didn't say another word for the rest of the drive. My phone rang aggressively.

I groggily swiped answer, my morning rage spiking. "Wake me up on a weekend, and I curse you to a lifetime of flavorless instant noodles.

Understand?" A low, raspy chuckle vibrated through the speaker. "Sorry to disappoint. I'll never have to touch cheap ramen again." Hayes. "I need your opinion on something.

Come downstairs." "If this isn't workrelated, do not disturb," I grumbled, burying my face in the pillow. "Five hundred an hour." I threw the blanket off. "Yes, sir!" Capitalism had me in an absolute chokehold.

I bled out for Todd's agency just to scrape by on a mediocre salary. Sliding into his Porsche, a bitter realization hit me. I finally understood Hayes.

He craved absolute control over his destiny. His time.

We corporate drones traded our entire lives for crumbs, while he possessed the power to shift millions with a single signature. We pulled up to an ultraluxury shopping district.

I trailed behind him as he walked into a highend designer boutique. "Why are we here?" He pointed a long finger at the latest runway collection displayed in the center of the store. "Try those on." I froze, staring at him like he had lost his mind. "Look, Hayes.

You don't need to buy me clothes. We're strictly business now. And besides—" His dark eyes flickered.

The vulnerability vanished, instantly replaced by a cold, devastating smirk. "Who said I was buying them for you?" He leaned closer, twisting the figurative knife directly into my ribs. "My girlfriend is exactly your size.

Her birthday is coming up, and I needed a mannequin." My heart flatlined