Broke and starving, I did the unthinkable. I kidnapped Brook Tyler, heir to the Tyler empire. “Five thousand dollars,” I demanded, my voice trembling, “or I’ll have my way with you.” In the dim, cramped space of my studio apartment, Brook was on his knees, his hands bound behind him. He’d been tense, but the number that tumbled from my lips made him burst out laughing. “Five thousand? Who do you think you’re insulting?” he scoffed. “You might as well just have your way with me.” But his wallet only held five hundred dollars. I snatched the cash and bolted. Later, in the basement of his mansion, he tied me up in the exact same way. Suitcases filled with cash were piled before me. “Ava,” he said, his voice a low growl. “That’s fifty million.” “Tonight, you’re having your way with me.” 1 “Five thousand? Who do you think you’re insulting?” Brook’s laughter was sharp, his face flushing from pale to a deep crimson. “You might as well just have your way with me.” I stared at him, my carefully constructed bravado crumbling into panic. Grumble. My stomach betrayed me with a loud, pathetic growl. I hadn’t eaten in two days. If I hadn’t been so desperate, I never would have risked something as insane as kidnapping Brook Tyler. I just didn’t expect him to have so little regard for his own virtue. Given the choice between his money and his body, he’d picked his body. I guess it’s true what they say: the richer they are, the tighter their wallets. All I wanted was enough cash for a meal. Hearing my stomach’s protest, Brook cleared his throat, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Hungry?” I nodded, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me. I was starving, practically on the verge of blacking out. He looked at me as if I were a ticking bomb. He strained against the ropes, but they held fast. Defeated, he let out a sigh of resignation and shifted his hips forward, an absurd picture of a man marching to his own heroic doom. “Well, go on then.” Excuse me? What did he mean, go on? Was he telling me to take the money from his pocket? When I just stood there, frozen, he prompted me, a note of impatience in his voice. “You don’t know how?” he asked. “I can teach you. Just… be gentle.” A slow burn of red crept up the tips of his ears. Just checking his pockets. How hard could it be? I crouched down and my hands scrambled over the pockets of his expensive jeans. He was Brook Tyler, the golden boy of the city. He had to be loaded. I’d definitely picked the right target. The moment my fingers made contact, his entire body went rigid. His face, already flushed, deepened to a shade of scarlet. “Not there…” he rasped, his voice tight. “A little more… to the middle.” Following his lead, I slid my hand deeper into his pocket. I didn’t find a wallet, but my fingers brushed against something hard and searingly hot. I didn’t have time to process it. My vision was starting to tunnel from hunger. All I could think about was food. I must have pressed too hard. A low groan escaped his lips, and his body went slack, slumping against me. A rich, warm scent of coconut and almond enveloped me—a surprisingly sweet, gourmand fragrance. Of all the things for a man like Brook Tyler to smell like, he smelled like dessert. Damn it. Now I was even hungrier. 2 I redoubled my efforts, my fingers digging more frantically. But Brook had gone completely limp, melting into my arms like he didn’t have a bone in his body. It was annoying enough not finding any cash, but now he was making it impossible. His heavy breaths ghosted across my ear, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I slapped his cheek, harder than I meant to. “What do you think you’re doing, rubbing up against me?!” His eyes were hazy, half-lidded. “Just hurry up,” he pleaded, his voice thick. “Stop torturing me.” Right. Being tied up must be uncomfortable. I could see that from the way he was squirming and whining. I continued my search. Finally, deep in his pocket, my fingers closed around what I was looking for. I pulled it out. Five hundred dollars. I’d hit the jackpot. It wasn't the five thousand I’d demanded, but five hundred was enough to keep me afloat for a month. I completely ignored the dazed, flushed man at my feet. I ran. I didn’t see him lose his balance as I shot up, tumbling to the floor. And I certainly didn’t see the look on his face as he lay there, seething with a mixture of frustration and unslaked desire. 3 With money in hand, I made a beeline for the first food truck I saw and bought a loaded steak burrito—the kind of meal I only let myself dream about lately. As I ate, hot tears streamed down my face, mixing with the salsa. Two weeks ago, my family’s company had gone bankrupt. Drowning in debt they could never repay, my parents had jumped from the roof of their office building. Every asset we owned was seized. Overnight, the princess everyone envied became a penniless orphan. I left our mansion with nothing but a photograph of my parents. It was winter break, so the university dorms were closed. I’d never been one to save money. When disaster struck, all I had was enough to cover the deposit on a room in a cramped, run-down apartment. I found a part-time job at a 24-hour convenience store, surviving on the free lunch they provided. But two days ago, I’d shown up for my shift to find the store completely gutted, shelves empty. I messaged my boss. His reply came instantly. “Economy’s bad. Had to close up.” “But you haven’t paid me yet!” I typed back, my thumbs shaking. I’d worked there for almost a week. That was nearly eight hundred dollars. “You didn’t even make it through the trial period. What wages?” When I tried to reply, a single red exclamation mark appeared. He’d blocked me. Broke and jobless, my last lifeline was gone. I spent all of yesterday searching for work, with no luck. Today was more of the same. The world was spinning from hunger. And that’s when I saw him. Brook Tyler. I’d only seen him a few times at galas, but his arrogant charisma and infuriatingly perfect face had left an impression. He wasn’t in a tailored suit now, just a grey hoodie, leaning casually against the wall outside a Michelin-star restaurant, waiting for someone. Even dressed down, he drew stares. That face was a public disturbance. But he seemed drunk. His cheeks were flushed, and he swayed on his feet. Watching him, a dark, desperate idea took root in my mind. My life was already in ruins. What did I have left to lose? Taking advantage of his drunken state, I led him back to my apartment and tied him up. 4 It was only after I was full and warm that it hit me: Brook Tyler was still tied up in my apartment. Oh, God. Hunger had clouded my judgment. Now, with a clear head, I realized the catastrophic mess I’d made. Was I tired of living? This was Brook Tyler, a man who could crush me with a flick of his finger. I spent twenty dollars on a fancy boba tea as a peace offering and rushed back, my heart hammering against my ribs. I opened the door, my hands trembling, to an empty room. The ropes lay discarded on the floor. He was gone. Panic seized me. I hadn’t even gotten to apologize. Was he going to call the cops? Even if he didn’t, if he held a grudge, my life was over. My hands shook so badly I could barely pierce the plastic film of the boba tea I’d bought for him. I started to drink it myself. It was already getting cold. Maybe my life was, too. Trapped between the fear of the cops and the terror of Brook Tyler, I cried myself to sleep. 5 The next few days were a blur of anxiety. But thanks to Brook’s five hundred dollars, I survived the worst of it. At this point, I’d almost welcome being arrested. But he never called the police. I managed to find a new job as a caddy at an exclusive country club. The monthly salary was just enough to cover my tuition. If the tips were good, I might even have some money left over for living expenses. I changed into my uniform and waited for the guests I’d been assigned to. When I saw their faces, my blood ran cold. I ducked my head, hoping to become invisible. A group of four or five people strolled toward the green. Leading them was Brook Tyler. Of course. My luck was just that good. And on his arm was Maggie Vance, the daughter of my parents’ biggest business rival. While my family was in ruins, the Vances had been thriving. Rumor had it their families were planning to merge through marriage. That was another reason I’d been desperate enough to kidnap him. Maggie was draped on Brook’s arm like a designer accessory. So, the rumors were true. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I didn’t dare look at them, but as Maggie passed, her eyes scanned me from head to toe. Humiliation and fear made my hands feel clumsy and useless. Then, she smiled, a bright, predatory flash of teeth. “You must be our caddy for today. You look just like a friend of mine.” My voice was a strained whisper. “You… you must be mistaken.” “Hm, you’re right, I must be,” she mused, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “The young lady I know would never lower herself to being a caddy.” In my plain uniform, I was just another face in the crowd. Brook, standing beside her, was a portrait of aloof indifference. He hadn’t even glanced in my direction. The light in my apartment had been dim. Maybe he hadn't gotten a good look at my face. If Maggie recognized me now, in this state, she would tear me to shreds for sport. But neither of them seemed to know who I was, and my frantic heartbeat finally began to slow. 6 As they played, Maggie deliberately brought up my family. “I heard the Zhou Corporation went under. And Ava’s parents… they actually jumped.” “I haven’t heard anything about Ava since. Do you guys know what she’s doing now?” “Someone said she’s working at a convenience store. Can’t even afford tuition.” Through it all, Brook acted as if he couldn’t hear them, focusing entirely on his game. Each comment was a fresh stab of pain. The Vances and the Zhous had been bitter rivals. My family’s destruction was her victory parade. I kept my head down, focusing on my work, trying to block them out. The entire game was torture. But something was off with Brook. For three solid hours, he didn't sink a single ball. One of his friends finally ribbed him. “Hey, Tyler, what’s with the off-day? You’re usually a hole-in-one kind of guy.” “Yeah, man, you seem a little distracted.” “It’s gotta be the beautiful Miss Vance. Looks like love has made our golden boy’s hands unsteady.” I risked a glance in Brook’s direction and found myself caught in the pull of his dark, intense gaze. I immediately snapped my head back down, pretending to adjust a club. A low chuckle escaped his lips. “My hands are definitely unsteady,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but laced with ice. “But it might not be love. It could be rage.” A chill went down my spine. Did he recognize me? No, he couldn't have. He’d shown no sign of it. I glanced at Maggie, who was laughing and chatting with her friends. Maybe the great Brook Tyler was just sulking because he wasn't the center of attention. His friends, sensing the shift in mood, quickly dropped the teasing and went back to their game. 7 When the game finally ended, I helped Maggie pack up her clubs. As I was going through the inventory with her, she claimed one was missing. A limited edition, she said. Worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. More money than I could ever dream of repaying. I tried to explain, my voice shaking, but she immediately called for the manager. As a VIP member, her word was law. The manager stormed over and, without even asking what happened, turned on me. “Are you an idiot? Do you have any idea how much that club is worth?” he screeched. “We could sell you and not make enough to cover it!” Then, he plastered on a fawning smile for Maggie. “Miss Vance, she’s new, she doesn’t know any better. How about I fire her on the spot? Would that be acceptable?” Panic clawed at my throat. I had just found this job, a job that could actually support me. I couldn’t lose it. I apologized profusely to Maggie, insisting I hadn’t taken her ridiculously expensive club. But her friends all backed her up. No one believed me. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes. Suddenly, Maggie’s expression shifted. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Ava Zhou. I never thought I’d see the day.” My body went rigid. She’d known all along. She had pretended not to recognize me just to watch me squirm. She had deliberately dredged up my family’s tragedy in front of her friends. And now, when I was at my most vulnerable, she was accusing me of theft. She knew I couldn’t pay. Faced with her blatant sabotage, I was helpless. All I could do was swallow my pride and keep apologizing. Her friends snickered behind their hands. “What do you expect from the daughter of a deadbeat? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Their baseless accusations rained down on me, and I could do nothing but stand there and take it. Brook stood beside Maggie, his face an unreadable mask of cold indifference. Did he think I was a thief, too? A wave of profound injustice washed over me, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. If my parents were still here, would any of this be happening? What was I supposed to do now? Life was already crushing me. Without this job, I might literally starve. “Why don’t you get on your knees for me,” Maggie said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Kowtow three times, and we’ll call it even.” The manager shot me a desperate look. “Ava, just do as Miss Vance says! We can’t afford to offend a VIP!” I had no choice. I closed my eyes in despair. If kneeling would let me keep this job, then I would kneel. I bent my knees, preparing to drop to the ground, when a strong hand clamped around my arm, pulling me up. The familiar gourmand scent of coconut and almond filled the air. “If I recall correctly,” a low voice drawled, “we abolished serfdom a while ago. The era of forcing people to their knees is over, isn't it?” My heart stuttered. That voice… I turned my head and looked directly into a pair of deep, fathomless eyes. It was Brook.
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