The sunlight was an intruder. It sliced through the gap in my curtains like a jagged blade, hitting me right between the eyes. I groaned, pulling my duvet over my head to hide from the world. At 22 I was supposed to be a mature adult, but right now, I just wanted one more hour of silence before the "real world" claimed me.
But my phone had other plans. It didn't just ring; it screamed.
I fumbled for the device on my nightstand, knocking over a stack of Advanced Finance textbooks before my fingers finally closed around it. A group video call.
I swiped 'Accept' with a sigh.
"Rise and shine, Lia!" Sarah's voice exploded through the speaker. She was already in full war-paint, her winged eyeliner sharp enough to draw blood, a true Fashion Marketing major, always looking like a magazine cover. Next to her on the split screen, Mia was bouncing on her bed, clutching a bottle of champagne. With her degree in Public Relations, Mia could probably spin a natural disaster into a party.
"Is the world ending?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. "Because if not, I'm hanging up."
"It's Graduation Eve!" Mia shrieked.
"Four years of Finance and Risk Management, library meltdowns, and coffee-induced panic attacks are over.
You are not spending the first night of your adult life in bed."
I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. "I had a date planned with a large pepperoni pizza."
"Cancel it," Sarah said. "We're going to L'Élite tonight. I've already pulled the outfits. We're leaving at eight."
"L'Élite?" I scoffed. "Sarah, a single water there costs more than my monthly data plan. We don't belong there."
"Tonight, we belong wherever we want," Mia winked. "Dress like you're about to meet your worst enemy. See you at eight."
By 10:30 PM, the quiet dust of my dorm was a distant memory.
L'Élite was a sensory assault. It smelled like expensive cologne and the kind of desperation that only exists in rooms filled with people trying to prove they're important.
I navigated toward the bar, feeling out of place in my black lace top. I reached the marble counter just as the entire room seemed to lose its breath. The music didn't stop, but the energy changed, a sudden, heavy drop in pressure.
"Look," a girl near me hissed. "Is that... him?"
I leaned against the bar, turning my head. A group of men in dark suits were moving through the crowd, acting as a human shield for the person in the center.
It was Liam Vane.
At only 23, he was already a titan. He was the CEO of Vane Industries, a global powerhouse in Quantum Intelligence and AI Defense Systems.
He didn't just run a company; he ran the systems that protected the world's most sensitive data. He was wearing a charcoal suit that looked effortless yet dangerous.
He didn't look at the women practically throwing themselves into his path. He walked with a cold, predatory focus.
"He's so handsome it actually hurts," the girl next to me whispered.
I felt a sharp spike of irritation. He's just a guy with a lot of power and an even bigger ego, I thought. I rolled my eyes, turning my back on the spectacle. I'd spent four years studying Risk Management, and every instinct I had told me this man was the ultimate red flag.
"Tequila. Neat," I told the bartender, who was too busy staring at Liam to notice me. "Hey. Tequila. Now."
The bartender blinked, his hands trembling as he poured the drink. I took it, the glass cool against my skin. I didn't turn around. I didn't join the crowd.
"You aren't taking a photo."
The voice was low, a smooth, dark rumble that made the music feel miles away.
I looked into the mirror behind the bar. Liam was standing directly behind me. At twenty-three, he had the eyes of someone much oldeer, rethal, piercing grey.
I didn't jump. I didn't blush. I just took another sip of my drink, swallowed the fire, and turned around slowly. I looked him up and down with the same bored expression he usually gave the world.
"I don't take photos of things I don't intend to keep, Liam," I said.
The air around us turned to ice. No one used his first name without a title. Liam didn't move. He just stared at me, his gaze traveling over my face like he was analyzing a high-stakes market.
"Mark the face," Liam said, his voice dropping to a dangerous velvet. He wasn't looking at his guards; he was staring at me.
"Sir?" his head of security asked.
Liam's lips curled into a slow, dark smirk. "I like this one," he murmured. "No... I want her. Find out everything."
I didn't wait to hear the rest. I set my empty glass down, rolled my eyes one last time, and walked straight past him.
My shoulder brushed his arm, a hard, solid heat, and I kept moving.
I didn't look back. But I could feel his eyes on me. It wasn't just chemistry. It was a fuse. And I had a feeling I'd just lit it.