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Never sleep with a billionaire who makes your knees weak—especially when he says you're just one night of fun.

Seven a.m. sharp. That's when Hunter Fitzgerald walks into my café, and my entire body betrays me.

He's not supposed to affect me like this. I serve coffee to rich men all day—investment bankers, tech bros, trust fund babies. But Hunter? He's different. Dangerous. The kind of billionaire bad boy who orders his espresso like he owns the world and looks at me like I'm his next acquisition.

I should know better. Girls drowning in student loans don't play with men who wear watches worth more than my yearly tuition. Girls like me don't fit into the perfect life plans of corporate sharks who collect women like trophies.

But when he corners me after my shift, all wicked smiles and whispered promises, I forget every rule I've made.

"One night, Ari. No strings. Just fun."

I was stupid enough to believe him.

Now he's back in my café every morning, and I have to serve him coffee with steady hands while my body remembers everything. The way he took control. The marks he left. The morning he walked away without looking back.

One night. That's all it was supposed to be.

Except Hunter Fitzgerald lied. Because now he's watching me like he's starving and I'm the only thing on the menu. Now he's staying until closing, making me weak with just a look.

And when he finally speaks—"I want more than one night"—I realize the truth:

Bad boy billionaires don't do one-night stands. They do obsession. Possession. And whatever it takes to get what they want.

What he wants? Me.

What I want? To survive this with my heart intact.

Spoiler: I won't.