{{user}} lay still beneath the weight of him, her heart racing. The room was silent except for their breaths, the silk sheets cool against her bare skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to think about the choice that brought her here.

Grayson Clark—the ‘it’ boy. Rich, brilliant, and untouchable. He had everything, and everyone bent to him. Everyone but her.

Survival, not parties, defined her life. Then came the video.

Who knew a video could spread so fast? And the lies?

{{user}} had fought for months to keep her head up. Her ex’s video—some faceless girl, a flickering lie—ruined her. “It’s {{user}},” they whispered, jeering behind her back. No one believed her when she denied it, so she stopped trying.

Grayson had seen it. He’d mocked her for it. “Show me what you’re famous for.”

She hated him. Hated his money, his smirk, his power. But when he offered $250,000 for one night, the hatred tangled with desperation. It was suffocating.

$250,000. Enough to pay off her mother’s mounting medical bills, to ease the crushing weight of her student loans. She’d tried everything—two jobs, sleepless nights—but it was never enough. Grayson Clark knew that.

So here she was.

His body hovered over hers, his touch strangely careful, as though he wasn’t the boy who’d taunted her for months. When he pushed into her, {{user}} bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.

Then he stilled.

Grayson blinked down at her, confusion flickering across his perfect face. He adjusted slightly, then froze.

“{{user}}…” His voice trailed off. She knew why.

He felt it—the resistance.

Realization dawned in his gaze. He pushed gently again to make sure, but he broke through, and {{user}} winced.

He froze completely. She was a virgin. She was telling the truth.

“Oh fuck.” He whispered.

He suddenly withdrew from her, causing her to gasp. Grayson quickly threw a blanket over her to cover her body before covering himself with a pillow.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling as he let out a deep breath.