Chapter 1

The old warehouse door creaked open.

I leaned against the frame, my body aching.

My face was swollen, a fresh cut above my eye still bled a little.

This was it.

I' d told my family, my father, all of them, that I was done.

Done with their money, their expectations, their life.

I chose Chloe.

Chloe, with her grease-stained hands and passionate talk about custom bikes.

She was supposed to be here, in her gritty workshop, probably welding something.

I needed to see her, to tell her I' d done it, given it all up for us.

The workshop wasn't dark and quiet.

Lights blazed inside.

Music, loud and obnoxious, pounded against the walls.

Laughter, too.

I stepped in.

It wasn't Chloe' s workshop anymore.

Or it never was what I thought.

Champagne bottles littered a makeshift bar.

People in expensive clothes lounged on new leather sofas I' d never seen.

And there was Chloe.

She wasn't wearing her usual overalls.

A tight, sparkling dress.

Hair perfect, makeup flawless.

She held a champagne flute, laughing with a group of faces I vaguely recognized from society pages.

Her friends. The ones she said she hated.

She saw me.

Her laughter didn't stop.

It just changed.

A slow, cruel smile spread across her lips.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in."

Her voice, usually husky and warm, was sharp, cold.

One of her friends, a guy with slicked-back hair, snorted.

"Is this the charity case, Chloe?"

My brother, Marcus, stepped out from the group.

He looked smug, pristine in his tailored suit.

"Ethan. So, you finally got kicked out. Took you long enough."

I stared at Chloe.

"What is this?"

My voice was hoarse.

Chloe sauntered over, her eyes mocking.

She tapped a long fingernail against her champagne flute.

"This, my darling Ethan, is a celebration."

"A celebration?"

"Mmmhmm. We won."

"Won what?"

She gestured vaguely around the room, then her eyes landed on something in the corner.

Covered by a silk sheet.

"That."

One of her friends pulled the sheet away with a flourish.

A car.

A perfect, gleaming, vintage Shelby Cobra.

Deep blue.

My breath caught. It was a legend.

Chloe' s eyes shone.

"Isn't she beautiful? The grand prize."

"Prize for what?" I asked, dread coiling in my stomach.

Chloe giggled, a high, unpleasant sound.

"For the bet, silly."

"Bet?"

"The bet to see if the golden boy, Ethan Cole, would actually throw away his entire life for a girl he thought was a poor, struggling mechanic."

Her friends roared with laughter.

Marcus smirked, shaking his head as if I were the world' s biggest fool.

He probably thought I was.

My legs felt weak.

"You... you lied about everything?"

Chloe shrugged, taking a delicate sip of champagne.

"Not everything. I do like motorcycles. Just not working on them in a dump like this."

She waved a hand dismissively at the workshop I thought was her sanctuary.

"This place? Rented for the occasion. Theatrics, you know."

The pain in my body from my family' s final argument faded.

A new, sharper pain took its place.

Humiliation burned my face.

"So, our relationship... it was a game?"

"A very entertaining one," a blonde girl chimed in, her eyes cold. "And quite profitable for Chloe."

Chloe ran a hand along the Cobra' s fender.

"This beauty was worth every second of pretending to be... less than I am."

She looked back at me, her expression devoid of any warmth I' d once cherished.

"You were just so easy, Ethan. So eager to believe in a fairy tale."

Marcus stepped forward.

"Father will be pleased to know you're finally out of the picture. Made my life a lot easier, big brother."

The words, the laughter, Chloe' s cold eyes.

It was too much.

I turned, stumbled back out into the night.

Their mocking laughter followed me, echoing in the empty street.

I had given up everything for a lie.

A cruel, elaborate, rich-girl bet.