Chapter 1 A Turner Mia Turner stood frozen at the entrance to the living room, her fingers clutching the strap of her work bag. Her sister Lily had interrupted her while she was getting ready, insisting their mother had something important to discuss.

“Mia, sit down,” her mother, Mary Turner, ordered, lounging on the worn-out sofa like a queen holding court. Her bright red lipstick clashed with the faded blush on her face, her manicured nails tapping against her wine glass.

“Can’t this wait? I have work,” Mia replied, her voice tight. “I can’t afford to be late again.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Work? You mean playing servant to those rich snobs at Casa Lounge? Please.”

Mia bit her tongue. She knew better than to rise to the bait. She needed this job. Casa Lounge wasn’t just a paycheck; it was her lifeline, the first step in her plan to save enough money to leave Willowcrest and the stigma of being a Turner behind.

Ethan, her older brother, sat slouched in the corner, scrolling through his phone. His indifference to the chaos of their family was almost admirable. At least he stayed out of the endless bickering.

“What’s this about, Mom?” Mia asked, her patience slipping.

Mary’s lips curled into a smile. “We have good news.”

Mia blinked, skeptical. “Good news?”

“Yes!” Lily, the eldest, jumped in, practically glowing with excitement. “I got a golden invite to the Willowcrest Unicorn Party!”

Mia blinked again, slower this time, trying to process how this was supposed to be good news. The Unicorn Party—the most exclusive, over-the-top event for the rich and powerful—was as far removed from her world as the moon.

“And this is good news… how?” Mia asked, genuinely baffled.

“Attending will be nice though,” Ethan muttered without looking up from his phone.

“Nice?!” Lily’s voice rose an octave. “Do you have any idea what this means? The richest bachelors in the world will be there! This is it!”

“And how did your name end up on the list?” Mia asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

“Connections,” Mary said smugly, swirling her wine.

Mia didn’t want to dig deeper into what kind of “connections” her mother was referring to. She knew the answer wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Okay, so Lily’s going to some fancy party. What does that have to do with me?” Mia asked, checking the time on her phone. She really couldn’t afford to be late.

Mary leaned forward, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. “This is our chance, Mia. Lily just needs to catch the eye of the right man. A billionaire. Someone who can change all our lives.”

Mia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, it was another one of her mother’s schemes. Everything in Mary Turner’s life revolved around chasing rich men, and her daughters were no exception.

“I’m happy for Lily,” Mia said flatly, rising to leave. “Congratulations and good luck with the party. I have to go.”

“Sit down, Mia,” Mary snapped, her tone sharpening.

“I can’t be late—”

“Sit!”

Reluctantly, Mia dropped back onto the couch, glancing at the clock on the wall. She was already cutting it too close.

“Listen, you all know how much we suffer and lose after that old bastard put me in Jail. This is a one time opportunity that will change our lives forever”

“ How does that even concern me? Or did the whole family get invited?”

“You wish…” Lily said with snort. “ No one is inviting you to that kind of party with that face”

Ethan chuckles, pulling eyes to him

“Lily you have to stop pretending, like Mia isn't the prettiest in this family” Ethan said, eyes still fixed on his phone.

“Eww, don't say it like that you're my brother” Mia smiles, always trying to get under his brother's skin

“Did I mention she is the most stupid?”

“I try”

“Enough both of you” Mary scolds

“I seriously need to get to work mom, whatever this is obviously doesn't concern me”

“Always so proud talking about it, like it's a real job?” Anna, the middle sister, said with a snide laugh.

“At least I’m doing something!” Mia snapped.

Before the argument could escalate further, Mary’s phone buzzed. She checked the screen, a sly smile spreading across her face. “Same time, same place, Barry? I’ll be there,” she said into the phone, her voice dripping with seduction.

Mia felt a wave of disgust wash over her. She didn’t need to guess what the call was about. It was her mother’s usual business—entertaining some wealthy man in exchange for cash, gifts, or favors.

As Mary hung up, she turned her attention back to Mia. “The point is, we all need to contribute to get your sister everything she needs for that party. You included.”

“This is ridiculous mom! Count me out,” Mia said, her voice steely.

Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be selfish, Mia. This is for the family.”

“I don't have have money”

“Yes you do” Anna rushed to say. “You've been saving a lot of money for college.”

“Like you said college”

“This is more than college and I've told you a thousand times you're a Turner you have no business with College” Mary says, checking her phone.

“ And I have said it a million times, I'm not like you! I don't want to be like you, I don't want to sit around and wait for some rich guy to come change my life”

“So you think you're better than us now?”

“Oh my god! I'm leaving. Lily I'm sure you can sort yourself out, and if you do get your billionaire boyfriend or husband remember not to give me a dime from his money”

Mia grabs her bag and heads for the door.

College in another country is her way out, no one is jeopardizing that for her.

There's nothing she wants than to leave this town, remove the curse name she bears from her existence.

“Oh you're a Turner, never mind”

“You're a Turner you have no say”

“Girl you're a Turner”

“You're Turner Shut up and open your legs”

“Not a Turner trying to form modesty”

Chapter 2 Chosen For The Game Alexander Blackwell was known for many things in Willowcrest: his wealth, his looks, his reputation as the bad boy every story tried to capture, but never quite could. Patience, however, wasn’t on the list. Yet, for Zoe Harrington—his girlfriend—he tried. Tried being the word.

Casa Lounge was his usual spot in the evenings, the perfect escape before his underground matches. Tonight, though, he wasn’t supposed to be here. He had a fight in less than two hours, but it was Zoe’s birthday. And Zoe got what Zoe wanted—most of the time.

He sat back in his booth, swirling his glass of whiskey lazily as he watched Zoe talking to a new face in Willowcrest, her glittery dress hugging her like a second skin. She was shamelessly rubbing her body on him—Dickson, or whatever his name was. A new face in Willowcrest, clearly is unaware of who Alexander was.

The sight didn’t bother him; nothing Zoe did ever truly got under his skin. Their relationship thrived on chaos. He smirked, watching her antics, amused more than anything else. She was testing him, as always.

When Zoe finally realized her games weren’t ruffling his feathers, she walks over to him, her pout on full display.

“You don’t even get jealous anymore,” she whined, plopping down beside him.

Alexander looked up from his glass, his voice calm and cool. “What do you want me to do, break some poor guy’s nose?”

Her pout deepened. “When did you even start caring about people?”

“I don’t.”

“Exactly my point!” She crossed her arms, glaring. “You’re so… boring now.”

Alexander hummed in response, his attention flicking toward the crowd again. But then his gaze caught on someone. A Turner.

There she was laughing with her coworker at the bar. Her smile lit up her otherwise simple features, her uniform crisp and modest.The sight of her irritates him.

He did consider asking his friend that owns the place to fire her when they first employed her.

“Man, why would you employ a Turner?”

“She's pretty”

“Still a Turner”

“Won't be one when her pretty lips are wrapped around my dick”

“Seriously?”

“Come on I want to have a taste of all of them”

He blinks back to reality, jaw tensed. He knew all about the Turners. Everyone in Willowcrest did. A family that had no business staying in this town.

“I feel like our spark is dying.”

Alexander sighed, half-listening as he took another sip of his drink. “You say that every day, babe.”

“I mean it this time. I think we need… more games.”

He raised a brow, setting his glass down. “Games? Zoe, we did threesomes the entire month of October. What’s left?”

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his, her tone dropping to a playful whisper. “I want us to go extreme this time.”

He tilted his head, watching her with mild amusement. “You’re insane.”

“We both are.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes glinting with mischief.

He sighed, leaning back. “What’s your big idea this time?”

“We break up for a month,” she began, her smile widening. “We each date someone new. You sleep with them, I sleep with mine.”

Alexander stared at her, incredulous. “You’ve officially lost it.”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun,” Zoe pressed. “It’s not like we don’t always find our way back to each other.”

“And what’s the benefit of this game? Or is this just your twisted idea of fun?”

“To spice up our relationship!” she said as though it were obvious. “And—” she added with a wink—“you’ll be saying no to my birthday present if you don’t agree.”

“Thought you wanted a shopping spree in Paris?” he drawled.

She waved it off. “Changed my mind.”

Alexander sighed, rubbing his temple. “Fine.”

Zoe practically squealed, climbing into his lap to kiss him. “Thank you, baby!”

“I’m already regretting this,” he muttered against her lips.

“Okay, okay, let’s pick!” Zoe said, bouncing excitedly. Her eyes darted around the lounge. “Not her. Not her. Oh—her!”

Alexander followed her gaze, his glass pausing mid-air. His eyes landed on Mia Turner, and he nearly choked on his drink.

“A Turner?” he asked in disbelief.

Zoe nodded enthusiastically. “Yup. I heard she’s different from her sisters. Lucas even tried to get with her, and she turned him down. Can you imagine? She might actually give you a challenge.”

Alexander shook his head firmly. “I’m not getting anywhere near a Turner, Zoe.”

“But she’s pretty,” Zoe argued.

“She’s still a Turner.”

“Alex, please?”

“No Zoe I’m not putting my dick into a Turner “

Zoe pouted, turning her attention to her nails. “Fine. If you’re not going to play, fine. But I guess my birthday’s ruined.”

Alexander groaned. As twisted as their relationship was, he loved Zoe. They’d grown up together, transitioning from childhood friends to lovers. And while she drove him insane, he couldn’t imagine life without her.

“Fine,” he finally relented.

Zoe lit up, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes! Thank you, baby! Okay, now your turn. Pick someone for me.”

Alexander leaned back, scanning the room. His eyes landed on Jeremy—a local businessman and soon-to-be groom. A wicked smirk curved his lips. “Him.”

Zoe frowned. “Jeremy? Isn’t he getting married next month?”

“Even better,” Alexander replied smoothly. “Like you said, the game is sweeter if it’s harder to achieve.”

Zoe grinned. “You’re twisted, Alex.”

“I’m a Blackwell babes ?”

Chapter 3 The Proposal Mia was exhausted. Her legs ached from standing for hours, her head throbbed from the endless stream of demanding customers, and her soul felt drained from another day of pretending to be unbothered.

Casa Lounge had been bustling tonight, and all she wanted now was to catch the next bus home, crawl into bed, and pray that her mother and siblings were out of the house. She couldn’t deal with them today—not with their drama, their judgment, and their constant reminder of the name she desperately wanted to escape.

She stood at the bus stop, clutching her bag tightly, watching as headlights passed by, one after the other. The night air was cool, the breeze teasing strands of her hair.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the purr of an engine. Mia looked up, startled, as a sleek black sports car slowed to a stop in front of her. Its headlights bathed her in blinding light. She squinted, taking a step back, ready to bolt if necessary. Nothing good ever came out of expensive cars stopping for people like her.

The door opened, and out stepped Alexander Blackwell.

Mia’s breath caught in her throat.

He wasn’t just handsome; he was devastatingly handsome. Towering with broad shoulders, a face carved like a Greek god, and an aura of confidence that demanded attention, Alexander Blackwell was every bit the enigma he is said to be. His presence was overwhelming, the kind of presence that knocked the air out of your lungs before you even realized it.

He leaned casually against his car, his gaze fixed on her like he had all the time in the world.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and laced with an edge of arrogance.

Mia blinked, unsure if her brain was playing tricks on her. She glanced behind her, twice, certain there must be someone else he was addressing. Surely, ‘a Blackwell’ couldn’t be talking to her.

"I’m talking to you, Turner," he said, smirking.

Her mind went blank. All she could do was stammer. "W-what? Me?"

"Yup."

Mia clutched her bag tighter. She looked at him like he’d just announced the sky was green. "Why… why are you talking to me?"

His smirk deepened, and then, without warning, he said, "Go on a date with me."

Mia froze. The words hit her like a thunderclap. Did she hear him right? She blinked rapidly, waiting for the punchline, but his face remained serious, even amused.

"What?" she choked out. "Y-you have a girlfriend."

Alexander shrugged, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Not anymore. We broke up. Check the news, Turner."

The casual way he said it made her feel like she’d stepped into some alternate reality. Her mind struggled to catch up.

"I don’t understand," she said, her voice shaky.

"How much?"

Mia blinked again. "What?"

"I said, how much to go on dates with me?"

It took her a second to process his words. Her jaw dropped as realization hit her. "You… you want to pay me to go on dates with you?"

"Maybe," he said, his tone nonchalant, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Why?" she demanded, her voice rising in confusion. “ You don’t even know my name!"

"I know enough, Turner."

God! she hates when she's being address like this

Mia felt anger under her exhaustion. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. "No," she said firmly.

Alexander raised a brow. "What?"

"I said no."

He tilted his head, genuinely surprised. "Why?"

Mia stared at him, incredulous. "What do you mean, why? You don’t even know me. You’ve never talked to me before. And now you suddenly want to—what?—buy me for dates? When I just saw you yesterday with your girlfriend"

"Don’t tell me you were watching me, Turner," he said, his smirk returning.

"You wish," she snapped.

"Trust me, that can’t be part of my wishes," he said coolly. His eyes glinted with amusement. "Name your price, Turner."

"I said no!" she spat, her voice firm. "You can’t just buy people to go on dates with you. I’m not interested."

Alexander’s smirk faltered for a split second. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, as he stared down at her. "You’re a Turner," he said, his tone dropping. "Stop acting like you have any pride"

Her chest tightened, anger bubbling inside her. "Please, leave me alone," she said through gritted teeth.

He stepped back, his smirk returning like a mask. "Three dates, Five thousand, for each."

Mia’s eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me. Sleep over it, Turner."

And just like that, he turned, got into his car, and drove off, leaving her standing there, speechless, her thoughts swirling into chaos.

“What the hell?”

Chapter 4 The Tempting Offer Mia barely got any sleep that night. She tossed and turned, replaying the surreal encounter with Alexander Blackwell over and over in her mind. The way he’d looked at her, the arrogance in his tone, the absurdity of his offer—5,000 per date? It felt like a cruel joke, one meant to humiliate her.

But then the thought of the money would creep back in, unbidden. 5 thousand dollars. For three dates, that will be 15 thousand dollars. It was more money than she could hope to save in years at Casa Lounge.

15 thousand could pay for a lot, rent, food... It could be her fastest way out of Willowcrest.

Mia sat up in bed and groaned, running her hands through her hair. No. She shouldn't even entertain the thoughts.

Whatever game Alexander Blackwell was playing, she wanted no part of it. That money might save her now, but taking money from a Blackwell will definitely come with strings she wasn’t willing to pull.

By morning, she was still exhausted but determined to stick to her decision. She trudged out of her tiny room and into the kitchen, hoping for some coffee to start her day. As she entered, she heard her sisters talking, their voices low.

“There's no way it’s real,” Lily was saying, her tone dripping with skepticism.

“It could be,” Anna shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “People are saying it all over town.”

“What’s going on?” Mia asked groggily, heading to the cupboard to grab a glass. “Where’s Mom?”

“Out. Probably won’t be back until God knows when,” Anna replied, not even sparing her a glance.

“You’re delusional if you think they’ve broken up,” Lily said, laughing. “Zoe would rather chew glass than break up with Blackwell.”

Mia froze, her hand clutching the glass tightly.

“Or maybe he broke up with her,” Anna said with a sly smile.

Lily snorted. “Oh my God, Anna, don’t tell me you’re still holding onto the hope that you’ll get him one day. It’s embarrassing at this point.”

Mia turned slowly, her stomach sinking as she listened to the exchange.

“I’m not delusional!” Anna snapped. “And you’re one to talk. At least I tried. Unlike you, who’s too busy chasing any rich guy who gives you a second glance.”

“‘Tried’ is an understatement,” Lily said, cackling. “Walking around naked in the Blackwell mansion three days after you were employed? Please. That was pathetic.”

Anna’s face flushed, and she opened her mouth to retort, but Lily kept going.

“Face it, Anna. We’re Turners. The Blackwells doesn’t even look at us like we’re human. They hate our family’s existence.”

“Whatever,” Anna huffed, crossing her arms.

Mia forced herself to move, walking to the sink to pour herself some water. Her hands were shaking, and she prayed neither of them would notice.

HmmOnce inside, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and immediately opened the Willowcrest Morning News. There, staring back at her in bold letters, was the headline:

*Alexander Blackwell and Zoe Harrington Call It Quits.

Mia’s heart raced as she read the article. Zoe had confirmed the breakup in an interview the night before, saying they’d decided to take a “break” to focus on themselves. The tone of the article was suspicious, though, hinting at drama behind the scenes.

Mia put the phone down and leaned against the wall, her mind spinning. Was this why he’d approached her? Because he was single now and needed someone to… what? Fill the void? Become part of his ridiculous games?

She shook her head.

She couldn’t let herself get sucked into whatever madness was going on.

Just then, her phone buzzed in her hand. The notification made her stomach drop. She hesitated for a moment before looking at the screen.

The message was from an unknown number.

Good morning, Turner. Don’t bother asking how I got your number. My offer still stands: three dates, 5,000 for each one. You have three days to decide.

Mia stared at the message, her heart pounding in her chest. Her fingers trembled as she read it again. She could practically hear his voice in the text, that cool, arrogant tone that told her he was used to getting exactly what he wanted.

For a moment, she considered deleting the message, pretending it never existed. But instead, she sank onto the edge of her bed, clutching her phone tightly.

Fifteen thousand dollars.

Her mind raced with possibilities. She could finally afford to leave Willowcrest, start fresh.

But then the image of Alexander Blackwell’s smirk flashed in her mind, and anger bubbled to the surface.

Three days

Chapter 5 The Blackwells The Blackwell mansion loomed like a dark, silent predator as Alex walks up the marble steps and pushed through the heavy doors.

The house was grand—but it felt nothing like a home.

Dinner here wasn’t about family bonding; it was a calculated performance, one Alex hated but endured because his mother and brother were involved. The only two people who ground him to this dysfunctional circus. Well… them, and Zoe.

He walked into the dining room, his steps echoing against the polished floors. His family was already seated, the tension visible before a single word was spoken.

“What’s this nonsense I hear about you and Zoe?” his father, Charles Blackwell, demanded without so much as looking up. His tone was sharp and cold, like a blade slicing through the air.

Alex didn’t falter, didn’t blink. He slid into his seat with a practiced ease, his face carefully neutral. “Good evening, Father,” he replied smoothly, ignoring the obvious jab.

“Did you ice that cut, darling?” His mother, Esther, leaned forward, her soft features tight with concern. Her gaze flicked to the small wound on his temple from his most recent underground fight.

Alex waved her off. “It’s fine, Mother.”

“I can’t believe you let a rookie do that to you,” Charles sneered, his voice filled with disdain.

“I won, Father,” Alex said, his voice edged with amusement. “That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Charles’s lips curled into a snarl. “You think this is a joke? I told you to postpone your fights for the week. Investors are flying in tomorrow, and you’re moving around, looking like some street thug. Do you realize the stakes? We could lose millions!”

Alex leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “And yet I made sweet money last night from fighting. Your priorities are not mine, Father.”

Charles’s gaze darkened. Without warning, he grabbed Julian’s wrist and slammed it onto the table.

Alex stiffened.

Julian, his older brother, winced, his lips trembling as he fought to suppress any sound of pain. Alex’s stomach twisted as he watched the familiar scene unfold.

Charles Blackwell wasn’t a father. He was a tyrant, a monster! A manipulator who thrived on power and control, and when Alex pushed his limits, it was always Julian or his mother who bore the brunt of his wrath.

“Do you think this is a game, Alexander?” Charles hissed, pressing harder on Julian’s hand.

Julian’s eyes were shut tight, his breath uneven, but he didn’t cry out. He never did.

Once, Julian had been Alex’s hero—the older brother who could do no wrong. Now he was a shadow of that man, a hollowed-out shell who survived on drugs.’

Alex’s jaw clenched, rage boiling beneath the surface. His mother’s wide, pleading eyes locked on him, silently begging him to do something.

Alex forced himself to keep his tone calm. “I’ll handle the investors,” he said, his words precise and deliberate. “It won’t affect the meeting. You’ll get the contract.”

Charles finally let go of Julian’s hand, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

Julian pulled his hand back quickly, cradling it under the table. His face was pale, but he didn’t say a word.

Alex wanted to slam his fist through the table, but he didn’t. That’s what Charles wanted—to provoke him, to control him.

Instead, Alex picked up his phone and scrolled aimlessly, pretending to care about the plate of food in front of him.

“Fix whatever mess you’ve made with Zoe,” Charles added, his tone icy. “Her father and I are already discussing the wedding date. I won’t have your antics ruining our alliance.”

Alex smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, Father,” he said, not looking up. He couldn’t exactly tell Charles the truth”

His mind drift to that server girl

Turner—the fiery server girl who’d told him off at the bus stop. He hated to admit it, but her rejection had stung. Most people in Willowcrest would’ve jumped at his offer, yet she’d turned him down without a second thought.

Something about her had gotten under his skin.

“Did you hear me, Alexander?” Charles barked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Alex slipped his phone into his pocket and stood abruptly. “Loud and clear, Father. Enjoy your dinner, Blackwells.”

Without another word, he strode out of the dining room.

The cold night air hit him like a slap as he stepped outside. He leaned against his sleek car, running a hand through his hair. He needed to cool off.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen, his heart drops. It was a text message, and it was from Turner.

‘I’ll do it.’

Alex stared at the message, his heart thudding in his chest. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

He loves challenges but getting entangled with a Turner is a challenge he had no interest in taking part in.

He wished she had said no.

Chapter 6 Let The Game Begin The balcony of the Blackwell Grand Hotel overlooked a city alive with wealth, secrets, and power plays. Alex stood with a glass of wine in hand, the chilled night air brushing against his skin. Beside him, Zoe leaned in, her arms draped around his waist as if she were staking a claim.

"How long do you plan on playing this game?" He asked.

Zoe chuckled softly, her lips brushing against his ear. "It's getting very interesting, Alexander. Don’t ruin the fun."

He hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His thoughts drifted to the server girl.

"I can’t believe she agreed so quickly," Zoe said, breaking into his thoughts.

"I told you, she's a Turner," Alex replied, his tone dismissive.

Zoe tilted her head, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder as she studied him. "Seriously, babe, bribing her with money should be considered cheating. Where’s the challenge in that?"

Alex turned his head slightly, giving her a sharp glance. "No rules against it, Zoe. And what did you expect? That I’d sweet-talk her into a date? Casual conversation with her is painful enough. I offered what Turners are slaves to—the one thing they respond to." His lips curled into a smirk. "And like the perfect bait, she took it."

Zoe shivered, but not from the cold. Her smile widened, her eyes glittering with mischief. "God, babe, your hatred for them gives me chills. I mean, I get it. You should hate them, but... it’s not like the whole family wronged you. Her brother was the only one who got involved with Julian."

Alex’s expression hardened, his sharp jawline tightening. His voice was cold and deliberate. "And what is her brother, Zoe?"

"A Turner," she whispered with a wicked smile, clearly pleased with his reaction. "But babe, I have to admit—watching you squirm every time you talk about her makes this game so much more entertaining. Your pain and discomfort? Pure gold."

Alex didn’t respond. He drained the rest of his wine and turned his gaze back to the city, his thoughts darker than the night sky.

—

Mia stood behind the bar at Casa Lounge, wiping down glasses and trying to ignore the twisting in her stomach. It had been two days since she’d last seen Alexander Blackwell, and she wasn’t sure if the relief or disappointment was stronger.

His message still lingered in her mind, taunting her.

Three dates. Five thousand per date.

It wasn’t normal. Nothing about it was normal. What kind of man paid that much money for a date? Who even pays for a date?

She paused mid-wipe, her reflection in the glass catching her attention. She didn’t need this kind of chaos in her life.

The door to Casa Lounge swung open. Mia turned her head and froze.

Alexander Blackwell

He wasn’t alone. His two friends, Lucas and Sam, flanked him, laughing at something she couldn’t hear. But Alex’s gaze was locked on her the moment he entered the bar.

Mia felt her heart lurch in her chest, and her hands gripped the counter to keep herself steady. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t look away. He was walking toward her, his dark, commanding presence drawing the eyes of everyone in the lounge.

Her throat went dry as he closed the distance between them.

“Tomorrow after work,” Alex said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ll pick you up.”

That was it. No explanation, no pleasantries. Just a statement delivered with absolute confidence.

Before Mia could find her voice, he turned and walked to the back corner of the lounge, where his friends were already settling into a booth.

Mia exhaled sharply, her grip on the counter tightening. Her knees felt like jelly, and she was sure her face was flushed.

“What was that about?” Emily, her coworker, whispered from behind her, nudging her with an elbow.

“Nothing,” Mia said quickly, her voice shaky.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Nothing? That was Alexander Blackwell. He doesn’t just walk up to people, Mia.”

“Drop it,” Mia muttered, focusing on the glass in her hand. But her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest.

She glanced over at the booth where Alex sat with his friends. He didn’t look her way again, laughing at something his friend had said, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was completely aware of her every move.

Oh God what did I get myself into....

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The story unfolds with you as the main character — play now!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You're Mia Turner, a server at Casa Lounge, fighting to save enough money to escape Willowcrest and the shame of your family name. The Turners are infamous—your mother’s past, your brother’s arrest, your sisters’ desperate attempts to climb the social ladder. You’ve stayed quiet, worked hard, said no to every rich boy who tried to buy your attention.

Then came Alexander Blackwell.

He approached you at the bus stop with an offer: three dates, $5,000 each. You said no. But when you saw the news—his breakup with Zoe Harrington—and received his text again, you realized this might be your only chance to break free.

You texted back: 'I’ll do it.'

Now, two days later, he walks into Casa Lounge with his friends. His eyes lock onto yours. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t greet you. Just says, 'Tomorrow after work. I’ll pick you up.'

Your hands tremble as you wipe the counter. Emily whispers, 'What was that about?' You don’t answer. Because the truth is, you don’t know anymore.

Was this your choice? Or did the game begin the moment he looked at you?