6.

Camila's POV

"Name your price."

I smirked, leaning back into the leather seat like I owned it. Like I owned him. The thrill of those three words shot through me even as my stomach twisted with anxiety. This was exactly what I needed, but one wrong move and I'd blow it all.

"Wow, straight to business," I said, tapping my fingers against my knee to hide their trembling. "No foreplay with the great Lucien Hayes?"

His jaw tightened. "Don't waste my time, Sterling."

I tilted my head, studying him. How far could I push before he snapped? Before he realized I was more trouble than I was worth? I needed to be valuable enough to keep around but not so greedy he'd toss me aside.

"What exactly am I worth to you?" I asked, filling my voice with saccharine sweetness. "Half of Hayes Corp? A helicopter? A penthouse in Paris?"

Not even a flicker of amusement crossed his face. "Either get serious, or get out."

"Who said I was joking?" I leaned forward, invading his space just enough to make him uncomfortable. "Your stock will jump points once our little kiss goes viral. Imagine what it'll do to your abuser reputation when America falls in love with our epic romance."

His golden eyes narrowed, assessing me like I was nothing but figures on a spreadsheet.

"You're not the first gold digger to cross my path, Miss Sterling. But you're certainly the most brazen."

I forced a laugh. If only he knew my real reason. My desperation to save myself from prison.

"Let's cut the crap," I crossed my arms. "I want a contract. Something legally binding that protects me too."

"Protects you from what, exactly?" His lips curled into a slight grin. "From all the luxuries I'll shower upon my 'adoring' girlfriend?"

I rolled my eyes. "From you claiming I violated some NDA when you're done with me. From your PR team painting me as the crazy ex when this arrangement ends."

His eyebrow arched slightly. "Guaranteed security. Surprisingly practical."

"Of course. Outline exactly what this arrangement entails. How long it lasts, what I'm expected to do, what I get in return, and what happens when it's over." I counted off each point on my fingers. "I want protection for my reputation when you inevitably throw me to the wolves. And I want a non-disclosure agreement that works both ways."

"Anything else?"

"A real job with a salary that makes the humiliation worthwhile."

"Humiliation?" His lips twitched. "Most women would consider dating me an upgrade."

"Most women haven't seen the real you."

"And you have?" His tone sharpened.

I hesitated. This was dangerous territory. "I've seen enough."

He studied me, and I forced myself not to squirm under his gaze. Every glare, every sarcastic remark—they were shields I wielded to hide the fear pulsing beneath my skin.

The car slowed as we approached another red light. Through the tinted window, I spotted a couple laughing together on the sidewalk. Normal people living normal lives. Not making deals with devils.

"Fine," he finally said. "Come to HQ Monday morning. We'll discuss terms."

"Find out where I live and send a car to pick me up at Eleven."

"Ten."

"Eleven, or you can go find someone else to fix your reputation."

"Ten. I am not sending you a car, and I know you'll come, because... you need this arrangement for whatever it is you are truly scheming."

My throat tightened, and my hands grew cold as Lucien’s piercing eyes met mine. The intensity terrified me, terrified he guessed my true intentions.

The car pulled to a stop at a bus station.

"This is your stop," he announced.

I grabbed my purse and pushed the door open before he could respond, stepping out onto the sidewalk like I was walking away from a boring conversation rather than a billionaire CEO.

"Eleven," I called over my shoulder, not looking back.

I waited until I turned the corner before letting my shoulders slump. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely grip my phone to call a cab.

Twenty minutes and one overpriced ride later, I stumbled through my apartment door and finally, finally exhaled.

Then I screamed.

I jumped up and down, adrenaline and disbelief coursing through me. "It worked! It actually worked!"

Maya burst out of her bedroom, hair wrapped in a towel.

"What the—" She stared at me bouncing around our tiny living room. "Why are we screaming? Why are we jumping?"

"Because it worked!" I grabbed her hands, pulling her into my celebration.

"What worked?" She jumped with me, confused but game. "Is this about Lucien Hayes kissing you? Because I saw that video and girl—"

"It's about everything!" I collapsed onto our sagging couch, breathless. "The whole plan!"

I told her everything, from searching for Elvis to the kiss, and the car ride where I'd somehow maintained my composure while internally freaking out.

"So now he thinks you're just a gold digger trying to cash in?" Maya sat beside me, eyes wide.

"Exactly. And he's going to hire me." I grinned. "I'll be inside Hayes Corp by Monday."

"Omg!!!" she squealed, and I joined in too, clapping hands high together.

"You need to see what people are saying about 'the devil's angel' online, Cam." Maya grabbed her phone, showing me dozens of posts, videos, and comments.

"She's gorgeous!"

"The way she dumped Mr. arrogant!"

"She's been secretly dating my man!"

"Devil and his angel—i ship it!"

"Wow..." I blushed at the comments.

"No wonder he needs you. People love the story."

I was still scrolling through comments when my own phone buzzed. Ronan.

The usual flutter of fear hit my chest, but this time, it faded almost instantly. I straightened my spine, crossed my legs, and answered with a confidence I was starting to actually feel.

"I assume you've seen the news," I said before he could speak.

Silence for a moment. "What exactly have you been doing?"

"Getting close to your brother, no?" I examined my nails. "You owe me an apology for not believing me."

"How did you know it would blow up?" he asked, ignoring my demand. "Did you arrange for someone to film when you confronted that man in the video?"

I had noticed Blake from my third day at Hayes Corp—his face didn't match his ID badge, and I ran a quick search of his face online after noticing his glasses seemed equipped with a camera. Just a reporter hunting for dirt on Lucien. I'd gambled he'd be recording yesterday, though I'd nearly given up hope when nothing surfaced immediately.

"I relied on fellow employees with phones," I lied smoothly. "Everyone loves capturing drama."

"Bullshit." His voice hardened. "The video shows everything from the moment you walked up to the man. Before Lucien even arrived."

"And does that change the fact you owe me an apology for hitting me?"

"I don't owe you anything." Classic Ronan. "Tell me about your arrangement with my brother."

I briefly outlined my entire conversation with Lucien to him.

"Don't ask for ridiculous money," he instructed. "Just demand to be his assistant. That gives you access to everything."

"Fine," I said curtly, then hung up before he could say anything else. Small victories.

Maya looked at me anxiously. "How'd it go?"

"I think I need to teach Ronan a little lesson." I smiled.

***

Monday morning arrived with cruel sunshine streaming through our cheap curtains. I was dressed and ready by nine, nervously checking my phone every few minutes.

11 o'clock came... No car, text or call.

11:30... 12pm... 1pm.

By 2, I was pacing our apartment, reality sinking in.

Lucien Hayes had called my bluff.