Trust was still a luxury he couldn't afford with Olivia.
After flunking my college exams, I bounced between dead-end jobs, always one paycheck away from broke. Romance? Forget about it. A steamy night with someone like Olivia? Yeah, right—like that was ever gonna happen.
Then she proved me wrong.
Her eyes gleamed in the dim light as she whispered, "Don't move."
I froze, confused.
Slowly, deliberately, she peeled off her clothes and let them drop. My brain short-circuited.
Then she was on me, her palms pressed against my chest, her warmth seeping through my shirt. The air between us crackled.
She bit her lip, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she rolled her hips. Moonlight traced every curve of her skin, turning her into something unreal—something too perfect to touch.
And God, the sounds she made. Soft, breathy moans, each one sending a jolt straight through me.
Somehow, she sounded even sweeter than Scarlett.
Finally, the shadow outside retreated.
The second they were gone, Olivia scrambled off me, her face burning. She yanked her clothes back on and put half the room between us before collapsing onto the bed.
The air still hummed with what we'd just done—or pretended to do. Neither of us could sleep.
Facing the wall, she finally murmured, "Thanks."
I forced a laugh. "Hey, just doing my part. But seriously—be careful out here. It's not safe."
She was young. Bright. She shouldn’t be tangled up in this mess.
She deserved more.
Olivia broke the silence first. "Vincent... this isn’t his first time pulling this crap, is it?"
The question sat between us like a landmine.
I exhaled. "He’s bragged about it before."
She shifted, curiosity cutting through the dark. "What’d he say?"
Her voice was honey—impossible to ignore. So I repeated Vincent’s own words.
"He said when he managed projects, he’d get girls drunk until they couldn’t say no."
If I hadn’t been here tonight, Olivia would’ve been just another victim.
"And if they still refused?" she pressed.
I held her gaze. "He’d take what he wanted anyway."
Fear flickered in her eyes, and guilt twisted in my gut. Maybe I’d said too much. "Look, just—make an excuse tomorrow. Get out of here. This place is toxic."
She stayed quiet, studying me like I’d just handed her a puzzle with missing pieces.
My advice felt useless.
By morning, she’d transformed.
When Vincent and I headed out for supplies, Olivia climbed into the back seat, then leaned forward to tap my shoulder.
"Ethan," she cooed, "did I treat you right last night?"
I nearly choked.
We didn’t do anything!
Vincent’s eyes locked onto me. I coughed, only to see Olivia fluttering her lashes at him—just like Scarlett used to.
Women. I’d never understand them.
She tilted her head, all innocence. "Vincent, Scarlett was screaming last night. You must be amazing."
The boldness caught him off guard. Then his mouth curled into a smirk. "Why don’t you find out for yourself?"