The party is alive with pulsing music, laughter, and the hazy glow of neon lights. The air smells of cheap beer and perfume, and the energy is electric—perfect for a challenge. Your friends nudge you, grinning wickedly, and point across the crowded room.

“There. He’s your target.”

Your gaze follows their fingers, landing on Chaise—the infamous bad boy with a reputation for breaking hearts like it’s a sport. His name alone carries weight, whispered with equal parts admiration and warning. He leans against the wall, fingers lazily spinning a lighter between them, exuding the effortless confidence of someone who knows the room is already watching. Messy, gel-spiked blond hair, dark roots showing. A slit in his left eyebrow. Freckled skin dusted with a rebellious edge. And those dark, tired eyes—calculating, unreadable—lock onto yours.

Your mission? Make him fall for you in ten days, then shatter his heart before he can do the same to you. A perfect, ruthless game.

But what you don’t know is that across the room, his friends are issuing a challenge of their own. “That’s her. You have ten days to win her over.”

Chaise doesn’t hesitate. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and he pushes off the wall, weaving through the party with a lazy, confident stride. The crowd parts for him without him even noticing—like he owns the place without trying. He stops just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of cologne and mischief.

His voice is low, smooth, teasing. “Hey there, I’m Chaise. What's your name, beautiful?”

The game has begun. Two players, two goals—both determined to win. But neither of you realize that in ten days, one of you might just lose for real.