His voice came low, husky. Even through the phone, I could picture the smirk, the sharp, striking eyes darkening when they landed on me.

I chuckled, indulgent. "Anything."

A beat of silence.

Then— "Leila, if I take the championship, you're mine tonight."

The match began.

Through the glass, I watched Joel slip on his headset, fingers flying across the keyboard. His expression? Sharp. Unshakable. Locked in.

Not once did he falter.

Until the final score blazed across the screen—3:0.

[Champions!!!]

Only then did he stand, bathed in the deafening cheers, the flashing lights.

And through the chaos, his eyes found mine.

I mouthed, "Congrats."

He grinned, mimicking me.

"Now, you're mine."

Tonight belonged to Joel.

***

By the time the post-match interviews wrapped, it was late.

Outside, a light drizzle misted the air.

I had just slipped into the dim back path toward the parking lot when a hand grabbed me—yanking me into a car.

"Trying to run again?"

The crisp scent of rain clung to the night, but his body burned hot.

A single word flickered through my mind—restless.

I tensed, but he only held me tighter.

Sighing, I gave in. "I wasn't running. You were still in the interview, so I went to take care of something. I didn't expect you to finish so quickly—"

"You always say things so nicely, but no one ever really knows what you're thinking."

His arms locked around me from behind. He was kissing my ear.

Warm breath. Slow exhales against my hair. A tingling sensation followed.

Each exhale brushed against my hair, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

"The interview wasn't over. I got bored. So I left. I wanted to see you."

A nineteen-year-old with boundless energy.

Under the dim car light, he kissed me inch by inch.

Then—his teeth grazed my neck, a sharp bite leaving a faint sting.

"Leila, you made a promise." His voice dripped with amusement. "I won. How are you going to reward me tonight?"

"I—" My vision blurred.

I blinked hard, pushing back the tears threatening to well up from the intensity of it all.

And just as my sight cleared—two painfully familiar figures appeared.

"I told you, Scott! This is Joel Arnoult's car!"

A second later, Gigi bent down, rapping on the window, voice bright and eager.

"Mr. Arnoult! I'm a huge fan! Can you sign something for me and my boyfriend?"

***

Gigi was so close—just inches away.

Logically, she couldn't see inside.

But under her expectant gaze, my whole body locked up.

Behind me, Joel chuckled, low and rough. "You're nervous?"

His teeth left my skin.

The sting couldn't register before warmth replaced it—wet, lingering.

His breath came quicker, fanning over the back of my neck.

"If you're so afraid of getting caught, why'd you come to me in the first place?"

His tone dipped—teasing, dangerous. "Or maybe... I should just roll down the window and tell them to get lost. What do you think?"

For the first time, I caught a glimpse of something beneath the usual playfulness—a quiet, untamed madness.

When silence stretched too long, Gigi's face tightened, annoyance flickering in her eyes.

She yanked Scott's sleeve. He stepped up, radiating arrogance. "Mr. Arnoult, I'm Scott Fletcher, CEO of Fletcher Corp. My girlfriend wants your autograph." Like his title alone guaranteed obedience.

Silence.

Then Joel scoffed, cold and sharp. He grabbed his jacket and tossed it over me, blocking my view entirely. Before I could react, he pushed the car door open and stepped out, moving with effortless ease.

Wrapped in fabric, all I saw was shifting light and shadow—

Joel's voice was razor-sharp: "Tch. I don't know you."

Scott's tone darkened. "What did you just say?"

Joel's words cut clean. "I said, I don't know you." Then, with a lazy cruelty: "What, are you deaf or just stupid?"

Scott, coddled and worshipped his whole life, had never been humiliated like this. Even without seeing his face, I could picture the fury twisting his expression. I smiled slightly.

"Wait... is that—" Gigi gasped. "Is that a skirt in the car—"

Before she could finish, Joel shut her down, voice flat and lethal. "What's it to you? Get lost."

***

The car door slammed shut.

Joel slid back into his seat.

I moved to shrug off the jacket, but before I could, his fingers closed around my wrist. One sharp tug—my vision cleared, but soft fabric twisted around my wrists, pinning them above my head.

He leaned in, inch by inch, his striking features sharp in the dim light. Displeasure burned in his gaze.

"So, that was your cheating husband? What a coincidence."

Up close, the cold arch of his brow cut even deeper. Our bodies pressed together, heat pooling between us. I let out a quiet, amused sigh.

"And how am I any different from him?"

Joel didn't answer.

Instead, he kissed me—deep, forceful, claiming.

The familiar scent of blue eucalyptus and rain filled the air, wrapping around me, seeping into my skin.

As my mind blurred in the pull of him, his voice cut through—low, certain.

"At the very least, I have better taste than him. Leila, you chose me."

Outside, rain drizzled soft against the car. Inside, condensation streaked the windows, a misty reflection of the storm unraveling between us.

***

Joel's place wasn't far—just a thirty-minute drive.

The second we stepped inside, his hands found my shoulders. He kissed me—devouring, relentless.

"I'll be gentle," he murmured. "I won't hurt you."

His breath burned against my skin as he moved lower, his palm tracing the sharp curve of my shoulder blade.

Then—he stopped.

His fingers froze over the uneven ridges.

His breathing turned rough. "...What's this?"

His voice sharpened. "Did he hurt you?"

I hesitated, then understood. The whip scars.

A soft laugh slipped out. "No. With our families' business ties, he wouldn't dare—"

I never finished my sentence.

He kissed me again, swallowing the rest of my words in heat and recklessness.

***

Morning crept in, the sky just beginning to lighten.

Beside me, Joel slept soundly.

Our clothes—mine tangled with his—lay crumpled on the floor.

In the dim light slipping through the curtains, I spared him one last glance before slipping out of bed.

Downstairs, I slid into my car.

Tammy handed me an iced Americano the second I shut the door.

"Ms. Lloyd, the second phase of the stock acquisition was completed last night. No traces back to us so far."

I took a sip, listening as she ran through the details.

"Also, your father called this morning. He's demanding you return to the estate today."

I nodded. "Ignore him. If he calls again, block the number. Everything else moves forward as planned."

Tammy acknowledged with a nod but hesitated before starting the car, eyes flicking to my neck.

"Ms. Lloyd... your neck."

I checked the rearview mirror. Yeah. Obvious.

Calmly, I buttoned my shirt to the collar.

"Don't worry about it. Just a puppy bite."

***

I'd planned to swing by home for a quick change before heading to the office.

Didn't expect to find Scott there.

He lounged on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, casually flipping through a stack of documents. The second he saw me, his expression darkened.

"Leila, don't you think you owe me an explanation?"

My gaze dropped to the papers in his hand.

The divorce agreement.

I stayed silent.

"Say something. What, cat got your tongue?"

He shot to his feet, closing the distance in a few strides.

"You actually think you have the right to ask for a divorce?" Scorn dripped from his voice. "Have you forgotten how pathetic you were? Clinging to my leg, begging me to marry you?"

The papers hit my face.

A sharp edge sliced the skin near my eye.

Warm blood trickled down, sticky against my fingers as I touched the wound.

I exhaled slowly. "I thought you and Gigi were in love. Just giving her the place she deserves."

"You don't get to decide anything about me."

Scott let out a low, derisive laugh, his voice dripping with malice.

"Leila, you're just a dog your family trained and threw at me. And now, because they've been treating you a little better—because you can string a few words together at Lloyd Corp—you think you matter?"

His fingers clamped around my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"The second phase of the Rivera project? Fletcher Corp is pulling out, cutting all ties with Lloyd Corp. Consider it a lesson—you only matter when I say you do. That's the only time you get to act like a person."

With a scoff, he let go, slipping right back into his usual smugness.

"Think long and hard about how you're gonna make this up to me. Maybe if you get on your knees again, I'll consider forgiving you."

***

Scott left.

I didn't move.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, stretching long shadows across the floor.

Standing there, I exhaled slowly and reached for my phone.

That's when I saw Joel's name trending.

#JoelGirlfriend

[According to inside sources, after last night's regional finals, Joel Arnoult was spotted in the parking lot with a mystery woman. The two appeared to be intimately involved...]