Emily Harper stood in front of her cracked drom room mirror, her reflection a mix of fury and exhaustion. The thin strp of her black tank top slipped off her shoulder as she ran a hand through her messy auburn hair.
She'd been up all night, staring at the email that had turned her world upside down.
"Due to an administrative error, your scholarship has been revoked.
Please contact the financial aid office for further details."
"An administrative error?" she muttered,her voice shaking. " That's it? That's all they've got?"
Her roommate, Mia, glanced up from her suitcase, half- packed for spring break.
"What's going on, Em? You've been glued to that screen all night."
Emily spun around, holding up her phone.
"This! They yanked my scholarship.
Some idiot named Ethan Blake signed off on it.
Mia's eyes widened. "Wait, the Ethan Blake? Like, Blake Industries Ethan Blake?"
"I don't care if he's the king of New York," Emily snapped. "He's ruined me. One semester left, and I'm done."
"Shit, that sucks," Mia said, zipping her bag. "Can't you fight it?"
"Fight it?" Emily laughed bitterly. "With what? My charm? It's gone, Mia. Gone."
Mia hesitated, then shrugged. "Look, I'd stay, but my flight's in two hours. Call me if you need to vent, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Emily muttered as Mia hailed her bag out the door, leaving her alone with her spiraling thoughts.
An administrative error. That was all it took to rip her future away. She'd worked her ass off- straight A's, late nights, internship- to keep that full ride to NYU.
Now it was gone. And that signature? Ethan Blake. Some hotshot CEO who'd probably never had to scarpe by a day in his life.
She pictured him-tall, smug, with that chiseled jaw she'd seen in a Forbes article once. Probably sitting in a penthouse right now, sipping whiskey, while she drowned in panic.
Asshole," she said, slamming her laptop shut. She yanked on a pair of ripped jeans, the fabric hugging her hips a little too tight, and grabbed her jacket. She needed air. She needed to scream. She needed to find Ethan Blake and make him fix this.
At the financial aid office, it was worse than she'd imagined. The clerk, a woman with tired eyes and a chipped manicure, barely looked up from her desk. "Name?"
"Emily Harper," she said, gripping the counter. "I got an email about my scholarship-"
"Oh, right," the clerk interrupted, tapping at her keyboard. "Revoked. Admininstrative
"I know that!" Emily's voice rose. "What the hell dose that mean? Who's Ethan Blake, and why did he do this?"
The clerk shrugged. "Some exec. Signed the wrong from, I guess. Mistakes happen.
"Mistakes?" Emily leaned in, her knuckles whitening. "This isn't a mistake, it's my life! Tuition's due in two weeks-how am I supposed to pay it?"
"File an appeal," the clerk said, monotone.
"Takes a few months, though."
"Months?" Emily's laugh was sharp. "I don't have months! I've got a barista job that pays shit, and my parents can't help-Dad's dead, Mom's broke. Fix this!"
"Can't," the clerk said, finally meeting her eyes. "Not my call. Talk to Blake Industries if you're so mad."
Emily stared, her chest heaving. "Oh, I will," she hissed. "Believe me, I will."
She stormed out into the chilly New York afternoon, the wind biting at her bare arms.
Her phone buzzed-a text from her advisor:
"Explore employment options." She scoffed, shoving it back in her pocket. "Employment options?" she muttered. "I was going to grad school, not some dead-end grind."
Emily kicked a stray coffee cup on the sidewalk, imagining it was Ethan Blake's
school not some dead-end graing."
Emily kicked a stray coffee cup on the sidewalk, imagining it was Ethan Blake's head. She didn't know how he'd screwed this up-something about his company mishandling scholarship funds-but she knew one thing: she hated him. Hated the way his name sounded, hated the power he had to ruin her with a single careless stroke of a pen. She'd never met him, but she could feel his arrogance radiating off that signature
"Hey, watch it!" a guy in a suit barked as she nearly撞ed into him at the crosswalk. His cologne hit her-sharp, expensive, dark. Her breath hitched. Is that what Ethan smells like? She shook her head, disgusted with herself. No. He was the enemy, not some fantasy
She didn't know it yet, but fate had a twisted sense of humor. Ethan Blake wasn't just a name on a page. He was a man-a very real, very close man-and their paths were about to collide in a way that would set her body and soul in fire.