Dreame-Novel Facebook ad: “Ride and Bet: The Rogue Biker I Chased All Day Click to Read”

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YVETTE I didn’t run because I was scared. I ran because my life had suddenly stopped being mine. My family had arranged a marriage. And guess who the groom is? Zev Sutton. My childhood friend. My so-called perfect match whose strengths and weaknesses are exactly the same as mine. The moment I overheard their conversation in Dad's study that day, something inside me snapped. How could they just decide what’s best for me? Am I not their daughter? I get it. My grandfather’s health has been declining these past two years, and the whole family’s circling like vultures around his massive inheritance. My parents wanted to secure it by marrying me off to the Suttons—and even demanded that I immediately have a child. A child. They really made it sound like signing a business deal. But marrying Zev for real? Please. I’d rather marry my hair straightener. At least that one listens when I scream. Zev’s adorable, sure, but he’s like the brother I never wanted. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s more interested in stealing my skincare than my heart. I can’t even stand the idea of marrying him, let alone having a child together. No way. Over my dead body. No one can dictate my life—or who I choose to marry in the future. My life. My rules. *** The airport lights of Southvale hit me like a softer version of Aurelpolis’ glare. Yes. I ran away from home—at midnight, to be exact. Call it rebellion, call it foolish—I didn’t care. I was sick of being the perfect, obedient daughter. For once, I wanted to live by my own choices. Just as I turned on my phone, it buzzed violently. Dozens of missed calls filled the screen—all from Mum. Of course. Her name flashed again, and I sighed, feeling the familiar guilt stabbing at my heart. My mother was a simple-minded woman. She had always thought I was flawless. Well… maybe I had been—until they set up this arrangement. Now, I felt nothing but betrayal. Taking a deep breath for the second time, I forced a calm tone that signaled obedience and answered her call in the sweetest voice I could manage. “Mum, I know I’m wrong for running away from home. Please don’t be angry,” I apologized right away, pretending to sound remorseful. There was a pause before a soft sigh came through. “If you know you’re wrong, come home.” I tilted my head, my grip tightening on the phone. “If I come home, do I still have to marry Zev?” “Feelings can be cultivated, honey,” she said gently. “Mm-hmm. That’s why I’m taking a little trip,” I lied smoothly. “To cultivate feelings, you know. I heard Zev was heading to Pinecrest.” “Oh? Why the sudden change of mind?” Her tone sharpened. crap. Panic shot through me, sensing my mother might see through the lie, but I kept my tone breezy—like I’d practiced this a thousand times. “Well, I just realized everything now. Zev is way better than any man in Aurelpolis, obviously.” She chuckled faintly. “Alright. Just be careful, will you? Don’t run off.” I smiled despite myself. Mum always wanted to believe the best version of me. Maybe that’s why she kept falling for my tricks. “I’m an adult now. You don’t have to worry about me.” When Mum’s call ended, Dad’s name flashed next. I puffed my cheeks and answered. “Yes, Dad?” “Get back here now!” His voice nearly cracked my eardrum. “Sorry, Dad, but I’m not coming back,” I said flatly. “And I’m not marrying Zev Sutton.” You got it right. This is how we usually talk these days. Ever since I learned what kind of man my father really is, I’ve started to feel a huge wall between us. I don’t hate him exactly—maybe I just stopped trying to understand him. “You think this is about you?” His tone dropped low. “The Suttons have the influence we need. If you still consider me your father, you’ll do as I say.” How ironic—to say that when he didn’t even consider my feelings. The rage burned hot on my chest, followed by a sudden pressure behind my eyes. Recalling our once-good bond, I realized all that was left now was resentment. Did he think being my parent gave him the right to own my life? “If you still consider me your daughter,” I replied evenly, “then stop treating me like an investment.” There was silence after that. A heavy, suffocating one. “You’re being foolish, Yvette,” he muttered finally. “Don’t worry, Dad. If you really wish to have a powerful son-in-law, I’ll definitely bring you one," I sneered, then hung up before he could reply. For once, the silence that followed was all mine. And it felt good. **** By the time I reached the terminal exit, my nerves had finally settled. I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the warm, salty breeze of Southvale’s air. Ah… this is what I’ve craved for so long—a place where I don’t have to pretend, where I can simply be myself. Not far away, I spotted Aunt Nina waiting outside, waving both arms like she was hailing a plane. I walked into her way with a wide smile on my face. “Your phone was off—I nearly missed you!” she scolded as she pulled me into a hug. “Look at you. You’re prettier every time I see you. What are your parents feeding you?” I removed my sunglasses, grinning widely, and started our usual banter. “Not as pretty as you, Auntie. Don’t think I haven’t heard about those rich bachelors in town pining for you.” “You’re still a sweet talker,” her crisp laughter filled my ears. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat before you faint on me.” The drive from the airport to Aunt Nina’s house took barely five minutes. Her villa was perched on a hill, overlooking the city lights. Neon flickered like fireflies below, while the sea breeze was damp and gentle—a stark contrast to the sharp, controlled chaos of Aurelpolis. I inhaled deeply, savoring the freedom, even just for a short while. After settling my things in my old room, I sank into a chair on the terrace, nursing a mug of coffee. Below, the city shimmered quietly—alive in a way Aurelpolis never was. “Your mother said you ran away because of a marriage?” Aunt Nina's voice pulled me back from my thoughts as she placed a plate of fruit on the table. “Something like that.” I sipped my coffee, forcing my focus back. “Oh… I thought it was about buying a bag?” she teased. I grinned mischievously. That was actually the excuse I gave her when I called yesterday. But knowing Aunt Nina, she probably suspecting something, even though I haven’t spilled anything to her yet. “Can’t I do both?” She chuckled while shaking her head. “Do you really think you and Zev could ever fall in love?” I gave a small, honest smile. “Definitely not.” “Mm. That boy’s cute, though,” she teased cheekily. “But his older brother, Silas—he’s way hotter.” I almost choked on my drink. “Auntie!” I glared at her, feeling my cheeks burning. She just laughed at my reaction. “I’m just saying. The Sutton boys grew up handsome.” I can say that among all the men from Aurelpolis, Silas was the only one who fit my taste. Aunt Nina leaned back, her smile soft. “You know, if you don’t want to marry that Sutton boy, why not find someone better?” Find someone better... I groaned inwardly at her statement, knowing that all the men from Aurelpolis were useless. My eyes drifted below as the sea breeze tugged at my hair. Somewhere down the road, a black bike roared past, cutting through the night. The rider wore a black helmet and a leather jacket, though I couldn’t make out the patch on it. My eyes followed the bike until it disappeared from sight. The wind carried the sound long after it was gone, stirring something sharp inside me. Truth is, I didn’t come to Southvale just to rebel. I came because there’s someone I’ve been searching for— …the man my father never wanted me to find. YVETTE I hadn't realized Aunt Nina was still there, and watched me carefully. When I turned her way, the teasing in her eyes a while ago softened into something more perceptive. She must have noticed my uneasiness, but thankfully—she didn’t pry. Instead, she squeezed my hand. “No worries, sweetie. If you’re really determined, Aunt will support you. I won’t say a word.” A sly smile tugged at her lips. “And if you want to go to Pinecrest for the sake of your little stunt, I’ll help you book the ticket.” A little knot in my chest loosened and smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Auntie. You’re seriously the best.” “Save it,” she replied with a teasing note in her voice. “I have a favor to ask too.” I couldn’t help smiling and looped my arm through hers, slipping naturally into the role of the sweet, dependable niece. “Anything for you.” “That’s my girl,” she said proudly. “Even if you poured dirty water into your father’s teacup, I’d still struggle to scold you.” I laughed under my breath, warmth spreading across my chest at her rare affection—something I barely felt at home anymore. Sometimes I think we’re the real mother-and-daughter tandem. You know, we’re very much alike in almost everything. She sighed again, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’ll be staying in Southvale for a while, right? Do me a favor and talk some sense into Sylvia. She’s been talking about going to Elysia again. I swear, that girl’s going to give me gray hairs soon.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sylvia wants to go to Elysia?” “She says Southvale’s too small and boring,” Nina muttered, shaking her head. “Now she’s obsessed with moving there.” Before I could respond, a familiar dramatic shriek came from the hallway. “Muuum!” Speak of the devil. “Did you throw out my leather pants? I need them for my performance tonight!” Sylvia yelled. I nearly spat my tea. “Performance?” I choked out. Sylvia’s face popped into the doorway—and instantly brightened. “Yvette! You’re here!” She launched herself at me like a missile. “God, I missed you!” I wheezed. “Okay—that’s enough. You're squeezing the air of my lungs—” “Oh, sorry! I was just excited to see you.” She stepped back right away and grinned. “Since you’re here, what do you think of my hair color? Please, I need your honest feedback!” She was practically shoving her rainbow-dyed hair in my face, making my lips twitch. Sylvia is pretty, as always. But her hair looked awful. “I told Mum this hair looked amazing. But she said I looked like I dunked my head in a paint bucket,” she pouted. I managed a laugh between coughs and wiped the tears from my eyes. “Hm, it looks good to me. Very fashion-forward,” I commented, giving her a thumbs-up to boost her confidence. “Oh please, don’t encourage her,” Aunt Nina groaned from the side, though she looked more tired than angry. Sylvia only grinned wider and clung to me. “How long are you staying this time?” “Until my parents drag me back, maybe?” I said breezily. She made a face. “Ugh. I guess we're in the same boat. Mum’s always on my case.” Then her eyes lit up with excitement. “Anyway—it’s still early. The guys are playing at Iron Den tonight. Come with me?” “The club?” “The only place in Southvale that doesn’t feel dead.” She was already grabbing her jacket. “Come on. You need a distraction.” Maybe she was right. A little distraction couldn’t hurt, right? **** Southvale at night was a completely different world—alive, humming, and unpredictable. The place felt real, raw— while Aurelpolis always felt staged, like someone else’s idea of a perfect life. This was the kind of vibe I have always wanted, the reason why I always love visiting Southvale. Sylvia’s red sports car weaved through traffic as neon signs flickered against the wet pavement. I leaned my elbow against the window, letting the city’s pulse settle into my bones. Sylvia slowed near an intersection, frowning. “Why’s there so much traffic tonight?” I followed her gaze. Beside us at the red light was a line of black motorcycles—their engines rumbling low in perfect rhythm. Their jackets caught my eye first—matte black leather, the kind that looked worn but expensive. Across their backs, a silver embroidery glimmered under the streetlights: THE ECHELON RIDERS. And beneath it was an emblem—a winged crown resting over a coiled serpent and sword. At the bottom, the words SOUTHVALE CHAPTER curved neatly across the leather, while stitched below in smaller but sharper letters was: Order. Loyalty. Retribution. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen. The design wasn’t flashy, but it screamed power and freedom. My gaze drifted to the two riders in front—clearly the leaders. Their motorcycles stood apart from the rest, louder, heavier. The one on the left rode a matte black machine trimmed with gunmetal silver, and the other, a sleek obsidian bike streaked with deep crimson that flashed under the lights. They didn’t need attention—they owned it. I turned to Sylvia with a curious look. “Who are they?” Sylvia let out a low whistle. “The Echelon Riders. And those two up front are the president and his VP. They’re the most feared motorcycle club here in Southvale—the ones everyone avoids crossing.” Her tone held admiration—and a warning. My fingers tightened around my seatbelt. I didn’t know why, but at the sight of them gave a strange thump in my heart. A strange familiarity of an angst vibe I secretly admired. I’d long heard about a few biker clubs in this town, and to be honest, I’d always wanted to meet one of them for real. But after realizing how powerful they were, I couldn’t help but shudder at that wild thought. As the light turned green, the convoy began to move again. Sylvia, being Sylvia, pressed the gas harder to keep up. “Syl, maybe don’t follow them—” “Relax,” she said, grinning. “It’s not like they’ll shoot me for driving next to them.” The road narrowed as we turned into the old district, a single-lane stretch cutting through warehouses and brick buildings. The convoy in front of us slowed slightly, their taillights glowing red. Without meaning to, Sylvia’s car drifted into their formation. “Oh great,” I muttered. “Now we look like wannabes.” She laughed, but even she held the wheel a little too tightly. Up ahead, the rider on the left turned slightly—just enough that his helmet angled toward us. Even with a visor hiding his face, I felt it. A heavy, undeniable weight of attention. Like he saw right through the car. Right through me. My pulse kicked hard. Because something about that presence— the way he held himself…was too familiar. My eyes narrowed and thought: have I met him before? YVETTE Iron Den’s parking lot was chaos incarnate when we arrived. Flashy cars and bikes revved impatiently, their engines echoing off the surrounding buildings. The scent of gasoline and perfume mingled with the faint tang of sweat from early arrivals. Sylvia groaned in irritation, circling until she found a spot a block away. I shot her a look that screamed, Seriously? “Chill. It’s Friday night, babe. Everyone’s here to party,” she said, smirking. Right. Because standing in line for an hour surrounded by sweating strangers was exactly my idea of fun. We stepped out, and Sylvia immediately scanned the crowd. Her eyes locked on a boy with messy, dyed hair and a leather jacket—his presence like a magnet. She waved him over. “Took you long enough!” she said, smacking his arm. He glanced up from his phone, feigning innocence. “Hey, I could say the same! You told me to come early—number twenty-one in line, remember?” Sylvia groaned. “Twenty-one? I told you to secure a spot!” “Do you know how hard it is to get twenty-one?” he shot back. “I practically wrestled someone for it.” He turned then, and his gaze landed on me. His jaw slackened for a heartbeat. “Whoa… who’s the gorgeous one?” Sylvia yanked his ear. “Watch your mouth!” “Ow, ow! I was just asking!” he yelped. “Is she your cousin? She looks familiar—I swear I’ve seen her in a movie or something.” “She’s Yvette—my cousin,” Sylvia introduced before turning to me. “This is Stanley, my friend.” I couldn’t help the corner of my lips twitching. He was… charming, in an annoying way. “Jeez, do you really have to be that violent? I was just being friendly!” he snapped at Sylvia as he rubbed his ear dramatically. Sylvia groaned slightly. “He’s really a flirt. Just ignore him.” I laughed. “It’s fine. He’s kinda funny.” Stanley beamed, clearly encouraged. “See? She gets me.” Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Anyway, genius, how are we getting in faster? Don’t tell me we’re actually waiting.” He puffed his chest, confidence returning. “Watch and learn.” Before either of us could stop him, Stanley strolled up to the bouncer and slipped a wad of bills into his palm. “My friends and I are kind of in a hurry,” he said with a charming grin. Thirty seconds later, the rope lifted—and we were walking straight through the doors. I blinked. “That was… efficient.” Sylvia grinned and winked. “I told you. Connections—or rather, cash—always open doors.” Money really did solve everything. Maybe I should just wire Zev some more so he could buy a few extra days to deal with the family drama. *** The club was a storm of neon, bass, and heat. The floor trembled beneath my feet as music thumped through the walls and floor alike. Sylvia led us to a booth tucked in the corner—close enough to feel the bass but far enough to talk without shouting. Honestly, it was my first time partying in a club like this, but… it wasn’t a bad experience at all. Sylvia slid in first, with Stanley beside her, while I took the opposite seat. A waitress came over almost instantly, pen ready to take our orders. “Three margaritas!” Sylvia ordered before I could even open my mouth. I gave her a look. “You know I don’t drink.” “Then start. You need it,” she shot back with a grin. Stanley leaned an elbow on the table, smirking. “She looks like she needs something stronger.” “Shut up,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help a small laugh. For a while, the music and chatter drowned out everything else. The drinks came—cold and colorful. Sylvia lifted hers with a satisfied grin. “To bad decisions and even those badass men,” she declared. We clinked glasses. I took a small sip—the tangy burn immediately hit my tongue and throat. I grimaced at the horrible taste, but it was worth it for the experience. Then my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down—and saw the name that irritated me the most. “Excuse me. I’ll just take this call.” I slipped out of the booth and looked for a quieter spot where the music wasn’t as loud. My eyes landed on the hallway leading toward the restrooms—dimly lit and slightly away from the chaos. Perfect. “Celine,” I answered flatly. I really should’ve ignored the call, but I knew she wouldn’t stop bugging me until she achieved her goal—the goal of pissing me off. Her fake laughter immediately floated over the line. “Hey! Just calling to know how you’re doing! I heard you’re really marrying Zev? Poor thing—you’ve suffered enough.” I rolled my eyes. Here we go. “Thank you, Celine. I really appreciate you checking on me,” I sneered. She chuckled softly, feigning innocence. “Hmm, of course. We’re best friends, right? Oh, by the way, Silas finally said yes when I invited him to a party! You’ve been pining for him for years, and I got him to show up with one phone call! Can you believe it? ” “Uh-huh,” I muttered, fighting the urge to hang up. Her sugar-coated voice was freaking annoying. “I was going to invite you too, but, you know, if you’d come, Silas probably would’ve made an excuse not to. Is he avoiding you? I don’t get it, he’s usually so polite. Don’t worry—I’ll put in a good word for you next time!” “How kind of you, Celine,” I said, rolling her eyes skyward this time. She started babbling about gifts, candles—details I didn’t care about. I couldn’t take another second. My jaw tightened and I snapped: “Am I your father? Why are you narrating your entire life to me?” A sudden, low chuckle came from somewhere behind me. I spun around—but the hallway was empty. That’s weird. “I’m hanging up,” I said sharply. “And Celine? You don’t have to brag about your love life—I don’t hecking care.” And with that, I ended the call. I tucked my phone into my purse and turned to head back to our booth—when someone suddenly stumbled right into me. “Hey—watch it!” I snapped, stepping back instinctively. The guy reeked of alcohol. His bleached hair stuck out in every direction, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. A half-empty bottle dangled from his hand. “Whoa, pretty lady,” he slurred, grinning like a maniac. “Where’ve you been hiding all night?” My stomach twisted with disgust. Before I could move, he leaned in—arms spreading like he actually thought I wanted a hug. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed, shoving him hard in the chest. He staggered, blinking before his face twisted into an ugly scowl. “What in the world is your problem?” My skin crawled at how aggressive he suddenly looked. I wasn't fully prepared when he raised his hand, ready to throw me a punch— ..but it never landed. A hand shot out of nowhere, catching his wrist midair with a sharp snap. My eyes widened with shock. The first thing I noticed was the onyx ring glinting on long, fair fingers. “Not smart,” a low, baritone voice rumbled behind me. I turned—and my mouth fell open. Under the flickering hallway light, his expression was grave, eyes dark as he stared down at the drunk punk. For a terrifying second, everything else faded into nothing. The man standing there was tall, built like trouble in a black leather jacket—the same emblem stitched on the back I’d seen earlier tonight— The Echelon Riders. YVETTE Holy molly! Am I really seeing this correctly? The drunk punk froze instantly when he saw the man who intervened, the color draining from his face like he had just seen a ghost. “M–Mr. L?” he stammered, eyes wide. The man didn’t answer. He just tightened his grip on the punk’s wrist, his gaze cold enough to make even the air go still. “I—I didn’t know, man,” the punk sputtered, voice trembling. The man— named Mr. L said nothing as he shoved the punk back with great force. The punk stumbled, nearly tripping over himself as he scrambled down the hall. I stood frozen in place, still catching my breath, blinking in disbelief. The man’s presence lingered in the narrow corridor. He turned his head slightly toward me, and under the dim light, I caught a clearer glimpse of him—the sharp lines of his jaw and the dark ink crawling up the side of his neck. My mouth fell open. It’s him. The man I’ve been looking for is right in front of me! A rush of adrenaline shot through me. Just about a month ago, I went to the Grand Meridian Hotel to pick up a file from my father’s secretary. What I didn’t expect was stumbling into a discreet meeting between my father and a man I’d never seen before. Tall. Dark-haired. Calm in a way that didn’t feel normal. That side of his face had been burned into my memory. Out of curiosity, I’d hidden in another booth to eavesdrop. I could still remember my father’s voice—low, serious: “If that’s not enough, I can add more. I just want to make sure you do the job well.” Since that day, the feeling that my dad was involved in something dirty never left me. My gut kept telling me it wasn’t some harmless matter. I’d been searching for that man ever since. The problem was, I didn’t know his name. I remembered the chiseled jawline and that striking tattoo on the side of his neck. I only found out that he was a member of the motorcycle club. That's why I traveled all this way to get here. Our eyes met for a second before he turned and walked off. The patch on the back of his leather jacket glared at me, and this time, I saw it clearly— President. So he was the big man of their motorcycle club. What a beautiful disaster tonight turned out to be. Just a few hours ago, I’d been wishing to meet a real biker. And now, I hadn’t just met one—I had met the mysterious man from that day too. I exhaled slowly, not realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Mr. L…” I murmured under my breath. The name sounded so mysterious. I stayed there for a few seconds, staring at his retreating back, until I finally found the courage to call out to him. “Hey! Wait!” I walked fast to keep up, but once he entered the club again, he disappeared into the sea of people on the dance floor. He didn’t even look back. shoot. Where in the world should I find him in this chaotic place? I badly wanted to have a word with him. I straightened my jacket and made my way back toward the main floor. Southvale is just a small town anyway. Now that I know who he is, it’ll be easier to find him later on. Sylvia spotted me halfway through the crowd and waved. “Where did you go? You’ve been gone forever!” I slipped back into the booth beside her, still feeling a little fuzzy. “Sorry. I just had to attend to my fake friend’s endless bragging,” I said nonchalantly, reaching for my glass. The drink was warm now, untouched since I’d left. Sylvia immediately got what I meant. “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging out with that woman, Celine?” “Mm.” I nodded, smirking slowly. “It keeps me entertained.” Sylvia burst out laughing. “You’re bad!” Stanley leaned closer, assessing me, as if he had seen through the lie. “Is that really the reason? Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” I only laughed at his remark, not wanting to explain further. I took a quick sip on my drink, hoping the burn would calm my nerves. Somehow, it did. Setting my glass down, I leaned back casually, letting my eyes wander across the club. And as if fate had woven our paths together, I saw Mr. L again—just across from our booth, brooding with the other MC members. Our gazes met for the second time. Even if it was just for a split second, it made my pulse jump all over again. I leaned to Sylvia without breaking eye contact with him from the other corner. “Who’s that brooding guy across from us?” I asked quietly, trying not to make it obvious that I was interested. Sylvia followed my gaze—and her grin faltered for a second. “Oh, him? That’s Lloyd Sterling.” I tilted my head, probing further. “And who exactly is Lloyd Sterling?” Before Sylvia could open her mouth, Stanley leaned forward with his usual know-it-all smirk. “You mean you don’t know? He’s the President of The Echelon Riders.” I rolled my eyes inwardly. Duh. Of course I know. I blinked, pretending ignorance. “The biker club that runs Southvale?” “Yup. He’s often called here as Mr. L,” he nodded, lowering his voice a little, as if we were talking about royalty. “But he’s not just some biker President. The guy practically runs half of this town.” Sylvia nodded, arms crossed. “He’s a businessman too. Owns legit industries, some properties, and rumor has it he’s got ties with other politicians and powerful figures outside Southvale.” Stanley grinned and added, “Basically, if you live in Southvale, you don’t cross Lloyd Sterling. Nobody does.” I tapped my fingers against the rim of my glass, studying the man from afar. The crowd seemed to part for him naturally, like even the air knew who he was. Something about his quiet authority drew me in. He looked nothing like the loud, reckless bikers people imagined. He was composed, and obviously didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. And that only made me more curious. “So, what you’re saying,” I murmured slowly, “is that he’s dangerous.” “More like untouchable,” Stanley corrected. “Right,” I sighed, standing up and brushing invisible dust off my jacket. “Guess I should find out for myself.” Sylvia’s eyes widened. “Wait, what are you doing?” I flashed her a grin. “If someone’s that powerful, I should at least introduce myself.” Before either of them could stop me, I started weaving through the crowd, keeping my eyes fixed on him. He had just left his companions and was heading toward the bar counter, the dim lights tracing the outline of his broad shoulders. My heart thudded against my ribs. This was crazy—and yet I couldn’t bring myself to turn back. YVETTE He was sitting alone at the bar counter, elbow resting on the polished surface, gaze fixed on the liquor swirling in his glass. There was something about the way he stared at it—like he was thinking too deeply for a place this loud. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system, or maybe it was pure impulse, but my feet moved quickly before I could talk myself out of it. I tapped his shoulder lightly, almost like we were old friends. “Hey, handsome,” I greeted with a sweet smile. No reaction. He didn’t even flinch. But when he finally decided to turn his head, his gaze cut straight through me—cold, sharp, and so intense that my lungs forgot what to do. It wasn’t the look of a man surprised. It was a warning. A very clear one. Still… I didn’t back down. I stepped closer. Someone suddenly blocked my path—a biker from their club, raising a hand to stop me. But I slipped past him with an easy dodge and leaned just enough to meet Lloyd Sterling’s eyes again. He set his glass down with a soft thud. Not loud, but firm enough to let me know he wasn’t amused. “Hi,” I said again, trying to keep my tone light. Still nothing. There wasn’t even a twitch of his brows or a shift in expression. I was on the edge of losing my temper. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me? We just met a few minutes ago,” I went on, suppressing my irritation. He only threw me a “forget off” look before he stood. God—he was tall. I barely reached his chin. He didn’t say anything and turned around, ready to leave. “Oh, come on,” I called after him. “Your memory can’t be that terrible.” He kept walking without looking back, so I had no choice but to call his full name—boldly. “Lloyd Sterling!” I knew it sounded gutsy—maybe even disrespectful—knowing he wasn’t just some random guy on the street. But I couldn’t think of any other way to make him notice me. And just like that, the music died. Every conversation in the bar stopped. He stopped too. I guess my little trick worked—I finally had his attention. He turned slowly, the corners of his lips curving faintly, though the look in his eyes was nothing but mischief. His presence filled the air like smoke—intoxicating and dangerous. “Miss Nobody,” he started, hands dipping into his pockets. “What’s your real deal?” Did he… just call me Miss Nobody? Seriously? I caught Sylvia and Stanley in my peripheral vision, both frozen. Honestly, I felt the same. If I wasn’t mentally forcing myself to focus on one thing—his eyes—I would’ve folded too. “I just wanted to thank you,” I began, clearing my throat. “For earlier. You didn’t have to step in, but you did.” I don’t know why, but my heart gave a strange thump for the second time. His brow arched slightly. “And that’s all?” “For now,” I admitted, meeting his eyes. “But I do have a few questions.” He inclined his head a little, studying me with those bottomless, keen eyes. “Questions?” “Yes. About my father.” I straightened and extended a hand to him. “I’m Yvette Wynn—Charles’ daughter.” But he didn’t accept my hand. He dismissed it with a quick glance. Still, that flicker of recognition in his eyes was unmistakable. “You’re his daughter,” he said, his voice dropping lower and more measured. I nodded, withdrawing my hand. “That’s right. And I think you and I might have more to talk about than you think.” For a split second, he was silent. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said flatly. He turned again—but I couldn’t stop myself. “A few months ago, I saw you at the Grand Meridian Hotel. With my father.” He halted. “I heard some of your conversation,” I continued. “He asked for your help with something. He mentioned your payment.” He turned his head slightly, just enough for me to see his jaw tighten. “So…” I crossed my arms. “How much did he pay you?” His eyes sharpened. “If Miss Wynn is curious, you can always ask your father.” I lifted my chin. “What if I want to know what you two were actually talking about? What’s the price for that?” A faint, maddening smirk appeared on his handsome face. “What makes Miss Wynn think I’d tell you anything? I’m a businessman. I value confidentiality.” Fair enough. I never expected an easy answer anyway. But I wasn’t backing down either. Not when that conversation had felt so wrong—so heavy—that night. And certainly not when I suspected the secret behind it was tied to the marriage I was forced into. Whoever my father was protecting… Lloyd Sterling had something to do with them. Whether he liked it or not, he was my only lead. I took a breath, regaining my composure. “Mr. L,” I said slowly, locking eyes with him. “How about a gamble?” One of his brows rose, the corner of his lips tugging faintly, though his face remained perfectly composed. I held up a coin between my fingers. “We flip it. If I guess right, you answer my questions. I’ll still pay for the information. But if I lose, I leave you alone.” He let out a low, amused breath. “Miss Wynn, don’t you think that’s unfair?” “Is it?” I countered. “You win either way.” He leaned slightly closer. “Not really. Either way, I get nothing.” What? Nothing?? Was this man allergic to money? The silence stretched, his smirk slowly deepening as he looked at me like he was trying to read every thought in my head. “Deal.” I released a deep sigh once he agreed. Now it’s showtime. I flicked the coin into the air. It spun under the lights, a soft ting mingling with the noise of the club. I caught it mid-air, slapped it onto my hand, and exhaled as I made a guess. “Heads.” I lifted my palm. My lips parted in triumph when I saw it was heads. “Got it—” “Best two out of three,” he cut in. I narrowed my eyes. “You’re seriously moving the goalpost now?” He didn’t answer. Just wait for me to do it. I sighed and flicked the coin again. Another spin, another ting. “Tails,” I called, feeling victorious. I opened my hand slowly, while anticipation was building in my chest. Tails. I grinned widely. “I win.” A short, dry chuckle escaped him—barely there, almost like he regretted letting it slip. “But I never agreed to give you what you want if you won.” He turned and walked away, completely unfazed, as if he hadn’t just crushed my tiny victory. My mouth fell open, clutching the coin tightly. “the heck…” He didn’t even look back. I let out a breath—half a laugh, half frustration. “shoot.” YVETTE After standing there for a while, I went back to our booth, my heart still racing from the intense encounter. Sylvia and Stanley’s mouths were still hanging open when they saw me return in one piece. “Holy cow! You—did you just challenge Mr. L?” Stanley blurted, eyes wide in shock. My lips curled slightly as I took my seat and reached for my drink, like nothing had ever happened. “I did. Why?” His jaw dropped so far I thought it might hit the floor. “You’re doomed,” his expression told me he was actually scared. Can Lloyd Sterling really be that dreadful? “Is that so?” I sipped my cocktail calmly, a thrill running under my skin. “Then I guess I’ll find out soon.” Honestly, this was better than I’d imagined. If Lloyd Sterling came at me, I wouldn’t even need to chase him—he’d walk right into my plan. “Darn. You’re either fearless or insane,” Stanley muttered. “Maybe both.” I shrugged, smirking under my own thrill. “You said he practically runs Southvale, right? So naturally, I had to ask him a few things.” He swallowed hard. “And? Did he answer?” “No,” I said simply. “He’s got quite a tight mouth.” But it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, I’d make him spill that dirty secret. Stanley gave me a weird look—half terrified, half impressed. The kind of look people give when they realize they’ve just met a real troublemaker. I was still amused by their shocked faces when I fished something out of my pocket and slid it toward Sylvia. “I forgot to return this to you.” The coin had been with me ever since. I had borrowed it from her back when I first pulled off the same trick—the first time I ever entered a real casino. Sadly, Sylvia lost our bets, so I had to pay “the gamble fee” to get us out. It had worked back then, but with Mr. L, it didn’t. I’d truly underestimated him. He was way wiser than I thought. Sylvia blinked at the coin in her palm, her eyes lighting up as if remembering our past antics. “Wait—what happened to your hand?” she asked, brows knitting. I glanced down and saw a faint reddish mark smeared across my skin. Before either of them could panic, I told them calmly, “Relax. It’s just a lipstick stain.” “Lipstick?” Sylvia scowled. I grinned and held up my tube. “I used it for my trick. Watch.” I pressed a faint mark on the tails side of the coin so they’d have an idea how I managed to win over the formidable Mr. L. Once I was done, I signaled for them to watch as I tossed it into the air. It spun once, twice, then landed neatly in my palm. “Okay. Guess now.” “Tails,” Sylvia said. I opened my hand. “Heads.” I tossed the coin again to show her the trick. She guessed the same—‘tails’—but it still landed on heads. By the third round, she switched her guess to ‘heads,’ but lost again. “No way. Is my luck that bad?” she grunted. “It’s not about luck,” Stanley chimed in, leaning forward. I saw him studying me closely as I tossed the coin. “When it spins, you just have to watch which side has the lipstick mark,” he said earnestly. I hadn’t expected Stanley to have sharp eyes as well. He’d easily seen the trick. “Really? But I can’t even see it clearly,” Sylvia argued. “And wouldn’t everyone notice if it lands lipstick-side up?” “If that happens, I just wipe it off before showing it,” I said, revealing the smear over my thumb with a wicked smile. “That’s how I got the stain.” They both stared at me, disbelief written all over their faces. They were probably wondering how I managed to pull off such a bold stunt against the president. Honestly, it was half courage and half foolishness. I was nervous as earlier, but thankfully, I managed not to crack. “Did you just use that trick on Lloyd Sterling?” they blurted in unison. “Mm, yes,” I nodded calmly. Stanley nearly choked. “You—what?!” They gawked at me harder. “Anyone who really understands casinos never bets for real,” I said casually. He blinked, understanding what I meant. “So Lloyd took the bait out of curiosity?” “Maybe. But I think he saw me cheating beforehand. He refused to acknowledge the deal,” I paused, my expression thoughtful. “But I’ll definitely collect it next time.” I smirked, letting the thrill linger. Their expressions were priceless. Stanley even rubbed his face like he was dreaming. **** On the drive back, Sylvia still wore that shocked expression she had in the club. She kept glancing at me, as if she wanted to say something important but hesitated. “Spill it,” I spat, ending her misery. “Yvette… I’ve never met Lloyd Sterling before, but you should think about what Stanley told you. Lloyd Sterling is bad news.” I almost laughed in amusement. I already knew that. The moment I found out he held a high position in their club, I knew he wasn’t the good type. “Stanley told me before that Lloyd often deals with gamblers drowning in debt—and he never shows mercy.” “Hm, I’m aware,” I nodded simply. She shot me a worried look. “Whatever you’re planning to do, couldn’t you just ask my mom or dad for help instead?” The truth is, I never told Sylvia my real reason for coming here. She only knew about the runaway part—the arranged marriage. But she’s a sharp girl. I could tell she was already sensing something. I looked straight at her. “Syl.” “Huh?” “What happened today—you can’t tell your mum or dad. Got it?” Her brows drew together in confusion. “Why not?” I didn’t want to explain everything yet. For now, I prefer to keep my plan to myself. “Let’s just say it’s better to keep things private. You know, curiosity kills the cat,” I added with a teasing smile so she wouldn’t suspect anything. That seemed enough for her. “Okay,” she agreed. We were quiet for a few blocks until I remembered something. “So,” I began, turning to her again, “what’s the deal with you and Stanley?” At that, her hands tightened on the wheel. She suddenly looked jumpy, just like a teenager caught in the throes of a crush. “Ah? Nothing! We’re just friends!” Friends, huh? I noticed the way she looked at that “friend” of hers. She might be denying it now, but I know my cousin all too well. “Friends?” I arched my brow. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “We’re just really best friends. And he’s leaving for Elysia soon.” Oh… no wonder she suddenly wanted to move there. “What’s so great about Elysia, anyway?” She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Stanley said it’s really fun there. He even promised to show me around someday.” “Uh-huh,” I smirked, teasing her. “I bet he’s the fun part.” “Yvette!” she squeaked, her face turning red. I burst out laughing. I knew it! She must’ve liked that Stanley boy. “If he’s just a friend, why do you look like an overcooked shrimp?” She could only groan and speed up. Teasing my cousin was way more entertaining than bargaining with men, for real. She stayed flustered the whole way back. When we finally parked at their garage, I leaned back and asked out of nowhere, “Syl, don’t you think Lloyd Sterling’s too hot and handsome?” “Well, yeah, but he’s also dangerous,” she instantly commented, narrowing her eyes. Then after a pause, she blurted, “Wait—you don’t mean you like bad boys, do you?” “Of course not!” I said too quickly, the corners of my lips twitching. The look she gave me said she didn’t believe a word. It’s all true. I like gentlemen. Polite, controlled, predictable—just like Silas. But someone like Lloyd… that’s a different game entirely.

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