open. He paused, every nerve screaming. Through the gap, he saw her.

His enemy. The girl who made him want to throw things at walls and hate himself for thinking of her at the same time. She was kneeling in front of one of the rugby players, hands moving in ways that made his stomach twist. Her eyes flicked up, catching his shadow, but there was no panic. Only that cold, electric smirk that said she didn’t care—because she always got what she wanted.

And she wanted something. Money. He could feel it. The way she moved, precise, measured. Calculated. She wasn’t lost in pleasure; she was negotiating, trading herself for cash, for power, for something that wasn’t him.

He should have looked away. Should have left. But he didn’t. Every instinct screamed at him—anger, disgust, jealousy—and it coiled in his chest like a fist.

The rugby player laughed nervously, glancing at the door. “Uh—hey—”

She cut him off with a tilt of her head, eyes glinting like knives. “Relax,” she said softly. “No one’s watching… no one that matters.”

Her words were a provocation. A dare.

He stepped closer, and she froze—just for a heartbeat. That tiny pause was enough. Rage surged, hot and raw. His fingers curled, trembling.

“You’re disgusting,” he spat.

She didn’t flinch. She only smiled wider, that dangerous curve of her lips that made him hate her more than anything. “Maybe,” she whispered. “Or maybe I just know how to survive.”

Survive. His enemy. Kneeling there for someone else’s hands, selling herself, and still untouchable. He hated her. Hated the power she wielded even when she humiliated herself. Hated the fact that even now, she could make him feel small, like a shadow.

He wanted to storm in, to rip her out of that room, to throw her against the wall and demand she pay him the attention she never would. But he stayed frozen, because beneath the fury, a darker part of him—sharp, dangerous, and honest—admired her audacity.

When she looked up at him, eyes glittering with fire and mockery, he realized she’d won. Always.

He turned, slammed the door behind him, and walked away. His hands shook, his chest burned, and his mind raced.

But one thing was certain. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.