The past few days have been fun... at least in my definition. Nights blurred into parties, mornings turned into afternoons, and sleep became optional. I liked that kind of chaos. But like everything else in my life, it didn't last.

I shot up from my seat as rage surged through me.

"What do you mean I can't use my own money?!" I shouted into the phone.

I rubbed my temples as panic clawed its way in as I paced back and forth across the room while listening to my father's lawyer drone on from the other end of the line. I had only found out that morning when I tried to withdraw cash to buy a bag, that my account had been completely frozen.

Zero access.

Zero explanation.

What the hell?

"Miss Clemente," the lawyer said calmly, "your father claims that money belongs to him. If that's the case, it will be used to post bail-"

"That money is mine," I snapped. "What is he talking about? Did he suddenly forget that he was broke long before I ever was?" I laughed bitterly while shaking my head. "I worked my ass off for that money. That was my savings."

I yanked at my hair in frustration. What was I supposed to live on now? I couldn't even talk to Aziel! When I tried calling, his father answered. I knew then that reaching him was impossible.

I couldn't live like this. Like a nobody.

"Miss Clemente, I'm simply following your father's instructions-"

"You took my money," I cut in sharply. "How do you not understand that? You're a lawyer, but you're acting like an idiot. How did you even get my account number-"

I froze.

"Fuck," I muttered. "Did Aunt Aurora go through my things at the house? That's illegal."

My stomach dropped. I'd left my journal in the drawer. Of all the things I could forget, why that? My passwords were written there. Every single one.

"Even if you claim it's yours," the lawyer continued, "there's no guarantee. If the money came from your father, then it may be tied to the funds he allegedly embezzled-"

"So you're admitting he's guilty now?" I cut in coldly. I straightened up, my voice steady but lethal. "Tell my father this: if my money isn't returned within twenty-four hours, he's not going to like what I do next."

"Miss Clemente-"

"I will not let him steal the money I worked for," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "I will fight back. Against him. Against all of you. Think very carefully, Attorney. I'm not afraid of anything."

He tried to speak again. I ended the call.

I dropped onto the couch, my hands trembling. I wasn't crying because I was helpless, I was crying because I was furious. What kind of idiot leaves something that important behind?

I had no money.

None.

I worked in the Senate after I graduated. I quit because of my father. I couldn't continue as a political advisor when my own father  was drowning in corruption. He ruined my career and now he'd taken my savings too.

"That was my money," I whispered as I stared at my bank app. Still zero.

Fuck.

The lawyer didn't even bother calling back. That alone told me everything.

My hand curled into a fist.

They were really testing me.

I dialed Aunt Aurora's number. I had blocked her weeks ago because she wouldn't stop calling. Guess she got tired of begging and decided to steal instead.

"Hello-"

"Thief," I cut in coldly. "Who gave you the right to take my money?"

There was silence. Then she laughed.

My anger spiked. "Don't laugh. Give my money back."

"I told you before, Kaia," she said mockingly. "You can't survive on your own. You need us."

I scoffed. "Is that why you stole from me? No... you need me. If you didn't, you wouldn't have touched my money. I've never stolen from any of you. I can stand on my own."

"You'll come back," she replied smugly. "One day you'll realize you can't live without us-"

"I can take care of myself," I shot back, gripping the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. "Why are you so obsessed with me? Just let me go. I want to live my own life-"

"But you can't live without money," she interrupted and started laughing like a damn psycho.

"I left quietly. I moved out and let you support my father however you wanted. You want the house? Take it. You want to defend a guilty man? Fine. Can't I live in peace? Can't I stay away from your family's mess-"

"Ours," she corrected sharply. "No matter what you do, you're a Clemente. You're part of this whether you like it or not. Don't act innocent like your cheap mother."

My jaw clenched.

"My mother is not cheap," I said through my teeth. "Say another word about her and I won't hold back anymore."

"Stop pretending, Kaia. Your mother left you because she didn't love you-"

"She left because she couldn't stand you," I screamed. My vision blurred but I refused to let the tears fall. "Don't blame my mother. You're the reason she walked away. Because you're all horrible."

My lips trembled. Rage flooded my chest. It was thick and suffocating. I was seconds away from exploding.

"You know me," I said quietly as I wiped my tears.

I took a deep breath forcing myself to calm down. "And you know I can be a bitch."

"Don't threaten me," she sneered. "If you're cruel, I'm worse."

I laughed.

"You're right. You raised a bitch. And now she's a monster. You clearly don't know me anymore. You want a war? Fine. I'll give you and my father one. And remember this... don't ever mess with me again."

I ended the call.

I stood up slowly and faced the mirror. Fire burned in my eyes. Rage stared back at me.

They wanted a fight?

Fine.

I wasn't going down that easily.

Once my breathing steadied, I picked up my phone and dialed another number. It rang several times before he answered.

"Hello? Who's this?"

I swallowed, eyes still locked on my reflection.

"Is this Attorney Damon Fontanilla?"

I paused.

"I want to testify against Senator Clemente."

I was trembling with nerves.

Earlier, I had almost thrown my pride away when I called Attorney Fontanilla. Now, all the courage I'd managed to gather seemed to have evaporated. I had to admit it. I was nervous. I didn't even know if what I was about to do was right... or if I was making a terrible mistake.

I let out a deep breath and glanced around, half-expecting him to arrive at any moment. He had told me over the phone that he was busy and couldn't promise he'd make it. That was why I was surprised when, an hour ago, he sent a message saying he'd come and talk to me himself.

I knew the address I gave him must've raised questions. But this was the only place I could think of... somewhere we could talk without drawing attention. I mean, who would seriously discuss a legal case in a bar? With the noise, the crowd, the music... no one would suspect a thing.

I pressed my heel against the floor and fidgeted with my fingers. I didn't know why I was this anxious. This was my idea in the first place. And if I didn't do this, there was a good chance they'd never give my money back.

"Miss Clemente."

That familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I stiffened in my seat, suddenly unable to lift my head. I swallowed hard and bit my lower lip trying to hide how shaken I was.

Why was he here?

When I finally forced myself to look up, my breath caught the moment our eyes met.

"I-I thought Attorney Fontanilla was coming?"

I wanted to slap myself for stuttering. I wasn't like this. I didn't back down just because a man intimidated me. I was just... caught off guard. I had expected to speak with his uncle and definitely not him.

Because why the heck is Dylan Fontanilla standing in front of me?

He didn't answer. He simply stared at me. I refused to look away. In the end, he was the one who broke eye contact first.

That was... intense.

To my surprise, he sat down across from me and raised a hand to signal the waiter. Instead of responding to my question, he ordered a drink. I was about to look away when he glanced back at me.

"You want one?" he asked calmly.

I frowned. Was he seriously offering me a drink? Were we even close enough for that? I shook my head and lowered my gaze to the table. His eyes followed and that's when he noticed the half-empty bottle beside my shot glass. He shrugged and repeated his order to the waiter.

When the waiter left, he leaned back in his chair, looking bored.

"So," he said, "what's the problem?"

"I don't mean to offend you," I replied carefully, "but I asked to speak with Attorney Fontanilla-"

"You mean you wanted to meet a married man alone in a bar," he cut in, glancing at the alcohol between us. "Nice try, Miss Clemente. Really."

My vision darkened for a second as I understood what he was implying. I pressed my tongue to my cheek and looked away, quickly forcing myself to calm down. It hadn't been long since he found out his girlfriend cheated on him. Maybe the feeling was still raw. Maybe that was why he was acting like this.

I took a deep breath and looked back at him.

"I have no intention of becoming a mistress," I said firmly. "I just want to talk to him about my father's case. That's all."

I caught the flash of irritation in his eyes and gave him a small, tight smile. That only seemed to annoy him more. I straightened in my seat.

The waiter returned with his drink and asked if I wanted another bottle. I shook my head. Getting drunk wasn't part of the plan. I'd only had a drink earlier to calm my nerves.

I watched him silently as he poured his drink. Three bottles sat on the table. I raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we were here to talk about my dad's case," I said. "Why does it look like you're planning to get wasted?"

"I'm off duty," he replied coldly. "I came because I didn't want my aunt thinking my uncle was cheating on her."

I rolled my eyes.

"I already told you. I'm not interested in your uncle. I just want to discuss my father's case. Not everything needs a hidden meaning."

Annoyed, I poured myself another shot and downed it in one go.

"I'm not into older, married men," I added, meeting his gaze as I drank.

He scoffed and shook his head.

"You're unbelievable. Why invite my uncle to a bar at this hour just to talk about a case?"

"Because I have to," I snapped, slamming the glass onto the table. "Just because I asked him to come here doesn't mean I want him."

"My uncle is married-"

"Did I ever say he wasn't?" I cut in sharply. "I said I wanted to talk about my dad's case. That's it. Did I ever say I was interested in him? You're the unbelievable one here. Being a mistress is pathetic and you should know your uncle better than that. He's a good man, right? Why would he cheat on his wife?"

He scoffed again and took a sip.

"Anyone would think the same if you suddenly asked them out. And of all places... here. Don't play dumb, Miss Clemente. If you think we'll just drop your father's case, you're wrong."

I laughed softly and shook my head, folding my arms across my chest.

"Fine, I get how it looks. But couldn't you at least ask why first? I was going to explain. If his wife is worried, she can come too. I don't have any bad intentions toward your uncle."

He didn't answer right away, just studied my face. I leaned back, oddly calmer now... maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

"Then why here?" he asked after a moment.

I shrugged casually.

"I live here."

His brows immediately pulled together. I raised an eyebrow back, waiting. He took another drink.

"I live here now," I continued. "So I figured, why not? It's convenient, and no one would suspect anything. My father and aunt don't want me testifying. If they see me meeting with your uncle somewhere obvious, they'll stop me. But here? No one would assume we're talking about a case. They'd just think we're drinking."

"Why are you here?" he interrupted suddenly.

He unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt while staring at me, and my throat tightened.

"You said you live here. Why?"

"I-I left home," I said, grabbing my glass. "Why? Is that a problem? I sleep on the third floor."

"And why did you change your mind?" he pressed. "You said before you wouldn't testify. You chose silence. Why speak now?"

I shrugged.

"I need money. My dad and aunt took everything from my bank account. I have nothing left-"

"So what," he cut in sharply, "you're a prostitute now?"

My eyes widened in shock. I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh and to tell me it was a joke. But he didn't. He was dead serious.

I swallowed hard and looked away.

"Why do you even care?"

"I'm a lieutenant," he snapped. "It's my job."

Of course.

I shook my head before meeting his gaze again.

"So what if I am?" I asked boldly.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, sending my heart racing. I swallowed but didn't look away.

"What-"

"Why are you asking?" I challenged him. "Planning to buy me?"

He sighed deeply and rubbed his temples, finally looking away. I smiled faintly, thinking he'd backed down.

But then he looked at me again. 

My breath hitched under the weight of his stare.

"What if I say yes?" he asked quietly.

"How much for one night, Miss Clemente?"

I froze.

I waited for him to laugh. To say he was kidding.

But he didn't.

He just stared at me, eyes cold and steady, waiting for my answer.

I swallowed.

Hard.

"What if I say yes? How much for one night, Miss Clemente?"

I froze and stared at him in disbelief. I expected him to laugh it off and to say he was joking... but he didn't. His eyes stayed cold and serious, it was fixed on me as if he were genuinely waiting for an answer.

I swallowed hard. My heart was racing but after a few seconds, I forced myself to breathe. Calm down. I lifted my gaze to meet his gaze and gave him a small deliberate smile.

"How much can you offer, then?" I challenged him once again.

He looked genuinely taken aback. I knew he'd expected me to stand up, storm over, and slap him for even asking... but that wasn't me.

"Are you serious?" he asked, clearly confused.

I leaned back in my chair, crossed my legs, and raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look like I'm joking, Lieutenant Fontanilla? I'm not that cheap. Why would I sleep with just anyone for free? Life's expensive these days."

"So you're admitting you sell your body for money?" His brows lifted slightly as he licked his lower lip. He watched me closely like he was waiting to see me crack.

"Did I ever say I've done it?" I shot back.

He clicked his tongue and reached for his drink.

"Then why are you so aggressive now? The way you talk... it's like you've experienced it already."

I rolled my eyes. How exactly was I supposed to talk? I was nervous as hell. I just wasn't letting him see it. This was the first time we'd ever spoken like this, face to face, stripped of pretenses.

"That's for you to guess," I said coolly. "Do I look like a slut to you?"

He went still.

He didn't finish pouring his drink. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet mine. I felt a chill run through me under that sharp, unsettling stare, but I raised my eyebrow anyway, refusing to back down.

After a moment, he scoffed.

"I guess I don't have the right to judge."

He looked away.

I wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or irritated. I wanted to know what he really thought of me.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "So what is it? Do you still want me to testify against my father... or are you just going to pay me?"

He snapped his head toward me, lips parting.

"Are you f-ing serious?"

I groaned and rolled my eyes again.

"How many times do I have to say it? I'm not joking. Do I look like I am?"

"There are a lot of men here," he said as he scanned the room before looking back at me. His jaw tightened. "Why me?"

I hesitated. What was I even supposed to say?

Before I could answer, he loosened his tie and cleared his throat, cutting me off.

"Don't try to seduce me."

I arched a brow.

"Excuse me?"

He looked away and took a drink. When I finally processed what he said, I couldn't help it. I laughed softly.

"There's nothing funny about that," he muttered.

My smile only widened. I rested my chin on my palm and leaned closer.

"I'm not doing anything, Lieutenant. Trust me, if I did, you wouldn't be talking right now."

"Don't test my patience," he warned.

I laughed again.

"Am I? Or are you just thinking about my offer?"

"Shut up," he snapped, downing another drink.

I straightened and poured myself another shot, a small, dangerous smile forming as the liquid filled the glass.

"Just admit it. There's nothing wrong with-"

"I have a girlfriend."

That did it.

I burst out laughing, slapping my thigh as if he'd just told the best joke of the night. When I finally stopped, I shook my head at him.

"You took her back?" I asked between laughs.

His expression darkened. He was clearly offended.

"What are you talking about?"

I grabbed my shot glass and drained it before meeting his eyes again.

"I can't believe you're that foolish. Why would you let someone back into your life after they betrayed you? That doesn't sit right with me."

His stare grew darker. I shrugged. I am completely unfazed. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe I just wanted to knock some sense into him.

"How do you know?" he asked quietly.

I smiled faintly and shrugged.

"I thought everyone knew. You kept it a secret? Why protect someone who doesn't deserve it?"

His brow creased deeper but I held his gaze.

"I guess it's unfair to expect you to be smart in love when you're already smart everywhere else. Life doesn't work that way, huh?"

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded. "Did you talk to my uncle-"

"No," I cut in immediately. "I just know things. I may not look like it but I'm not easy to deal with. People talk. Secrets slip."

I yawned and crossed my arms.

"Well? Are you going to answer? Time's ticking."

He scoffed.

"You're drunk."

"Oh, please. I'm perfectly clear-headed."

"Fine," he said irritably. "If my uncle were here instead of me, would you still do this just for money?"

I chuckled.

"Your uncle has a wife. Don't compare me to your ex. I won't be a mistress and I'm not a cheater. And technically? You're single now."

He didn't answer.

I smiled thinly.

"And before you accuse me of stalking, you used to live in the same neighborhood as your ex-girlfriend. Brielle Clarkson. That's her name, right? We live in the same neighborhood now."

He looked away and drank.

I stood up with a sharp breath.

"Looks like you're not interested. We'll talk about my father's case another time, when your uncle's here and you're in a better mood. I don't want your emotions clouding your judgment."

I stepped past him...

... and he grabbed my wrist.

I stopped, a small triumphant smile forming before I turned back.

"Is there a problem?" I asked lightly. "Anything else you want to discuss?"

He exhaled sharply.

"How much for one night?"

My breath hitched. My chest rose and fell rapidly, but after a moment, I recovered. I smiled sweetly.

"We can talk about the details later. You're rich, aren't you? The real question is, are you willing to spend on me, or are you cheap?"

"Is nine hundred dollars enough?"

My eyes widened.

"W-What?"

This time, he didn't look away. His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unflinching.

"Is that enough? Or should I add more?"

My jaw slackened.

"Is that for the night or-"

"One night," he cut in. "But I want something in return."

My brows knitted together. My heart was pounding, especially with his hand still gripping my wrist.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

He took a deep breath. His eyes were empty when they met mine.

"Can you get her out of my head?"

I didn't answer right away.

"Just for one night?" I asked carefully. "Do you want to forget that she cheated... or do you want to forget her completely?"

"The second," he said without hesitation. "I don't want her in my mind anymore. Can you... replace her?"

I swallowed. Could I really do that? Years of memories... how could one night erase that?

Even just for a night?

I took a deep breath and met his gaze. His jaw tightened.

"Try me," I whispered.

"Hm?"

"Let me try to replace her tonight," I said softly. "And understand this. I don't just want to replace her, Dylan. I want to be better than her."