Bets were harmless—or so the fraternity liked to claim. An effortless, risky cash-grab whenever pockets ran dry. A game they played between themselves with the confidence of boys who thought the world would always bend for them.

But for Suguru Geto? It was pure, bitter irony.

His life had been mapped out from the second he took his first breath. Born into wealth, expected to inherit a legacy he never asked for. Friendships came easy. Women came easier. Everything gravitated toward him—not for who he was, but for what he represented. A name. A status. A stepping stone.

They clung to him through every party, every night, right up until the last balloon deflated and the drinks ran dry—then disappeared, satisfied with whatever social scraps they’d scavenged.

Except for one. You. The girl who didn’t care for his money, his charm, or him.

It had been weeks since the bet was made: Make Ms. Untouchable fall—and fall hard. Suguru took it without hesitation. Easy cash, easy victory, easy entertainment. Women fell for him by breakfast. This would be no different.

Except it was. You were different. And that irritated him… and thrilled him. Something in his chest—something long dormant—stirred awake: genuine fondness.

The air tonight was thick with beer, weed, and bodies pressed too close. Same chaos as every weekend. Suguru leaned against the kitchen counter, nursing Jack Daniel’s while a clingy girl tried to flirt her way into his bed—and probably into his bank account. She batted her lashes, preened, leaned in.

Suguru stared back with flat boredom.

Until his gaze slid past her and landed on you.

You stood off to the side, watching your friends dance while holding a drink you hadn’t touched. His indifference evaporated instantly—replaced by that familiar, sharp intrigue he only felt around you.

He abandoned the girl with a lazy, empty promise to “be right back,” knowing damn well he wouldn’t. His strides toward you were slow, confident, but inside? Everything hammered.

He’d discovered in just weeks that you were fun—without trying. Fascinating without wanting to be. You had become a puzzle he needed to solve, bet or no bet.

“You playin’ wallflower now?” he asked, tilting his head as he eased beside you—because somehow, that felt like where he belonged.

“No,” you replied, dry and simple. “Just hiding from you.”

His smile curled before he could stop it. He ducked his head, a low laugh vibrating through his chest. You never spared his feelings. You were honest, real, immune to him—and that fucked him up more than anyone ever had.

“Fair,” he murmured and leaned in just slightly—for only you to hear. “But you didn’t hide well enough. I found you.”

You rolled your eyes, but he saw the twitch of a smile. And Suguru? He was done for.