The Billionaire Heir's Secret Disguised Queen

The heavy bass from the speakers vibrated through the sticky wood of the coffee table, traveling straight up Juliette's arms and rattling her teeth.

She sat in the darkest corner of the Alpha Sigma fraternity living room. Her knees were pulled up tight against her chest.

A plastic cup of untouched soda sweated onto her jeans.

She pressed her palm hard against her right ear, trying to block out the noise. Her eyes never left the glowing screen of her tablet. The third paragraph analyzing tuber mutations was blurring together.

A massive roar of laughter erupted from the center of the room.

The sound shattered her focus completely. She let out a sharp breath, dropping her hand from her ear, and looked up at the crowd gathered around the Texas Hold'em table.

Adrian Castillo leaned back in a cracked leather armchair.

He looked entirely out of place in the sweaty frat house. His crisp button-down shirt didn't have a single wrinkle. His long, calloused fingers lazily spun two hole cards face down on the felt.

His dark, piercing eyes cut right through the chaotic crowd. They landed with pinpoint accuracy on Juliette in her dark corner.

Jax slammed both hands on the table, shoving a massive pile of plastic chips into the center.

"All in, Castillo!" Jax yelled over the music. "You gonna call or what?"

The girls standing behind Jax shrieked in anticipation.

Adrian slowly pulled his gaze away from Juliette. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a cold, barely-there smirk.

He flipped his cards over, pressing them flat against the table. A straight flush.

"Fold," Adrian said. His voice was quiet, but it somehow cut through the heavy bass.

The room went dead silent for exactly one second. Then, the crowd exploded into deafening whistles and groans.

Jax stared at the folded winning hand, his jaw practically hitting the floor. He blinked, realized he had just won by default, and immediately jumped onto his chair.

"I set the penalty rules tonight!" Jax roared, pointing a finger at the ceiling.

He scanned the room. His eyes swept past a dozen girls in tight dresses who were practically vibrating with hope.

His finger stopped. It pointed straight at the corner. Straight at Juliette's baggy cargo pants.

"Castillo," Jax shouted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You have to get a ten-second French kiss from the potato freak in the corner. Or you're doing my lab reports for the rest of the semester."

The crowd parted like the Red Sea.

Suddenly, there was a clear path of sticky floor between the poker table and Juliette's sofa.

Juliette blinked. She looked up from her screen. The bright diagram of a russet potato was still illuminating her confused face.

Adrian stood up. He casually adjusted his cuffs, the silver links catching the strobe lights.

He stepped over a spilled red cup and walked straight toward her. His strides were long, purposeful, and terrifyingly steady.

Juliette watched the campus god approach. Her heart kicked against her ribs. Her brain scrambled, calculating the distance to the back door. Blocked by three linebackers.

Adrian stopped right in front of her.

His tall frame entirely blocked out the spinning disco lights. He cast a heavy, warm shadow over her.

He leaned down. He placed a hand on the back of the sofa, right beside her head, trapping her.

"I need a favor," Adrian murmured. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated right into her chest.

Juliette pressed her spine hard against the sofa cushions. Her lungs felt tight.

"Absolutely not," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "Go do his lab reports."

The crowd started chanting. "Ten! Nine!"

The sheer volume made Juliette's stomach churn. She squeezed her eyes shut, her head pounding.

Adrian tilted his head. His mouth hovered inches from her ear. She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin.

"Professor Alistair Frye's latest CRISPR potato breeding data," Adrian whispered.

Juliette's eyes snapped open. Her pupils dilated.

Her body, which had been coiled tight with panic, froze completely. She turned her head, her nose almost brushing his jaw, and stared straight into his dark eyes.

Adrian watched her reaction. A flash of dark satisfaction crossed his face.

"Help me out," he said softly, his gaze dropping to her lips. "And the data is yours."

Juliette's brain ran the math. One kiss versus top-tier agricultural technology. The panic warred with her academic greed for a frantic second, and greed won. It took her less than a second.

She reached up, grabbed the collar of his expensive shirt, and yanked him down.

The crowd's chanting cut off into a collective gasp of shock.

Adrian let himself be pulled. As his face descended, Juliette quickly turned her head a fraction of an inch. She slammed her thumb flat against his lips, pressing it between his mouth and hers.

From the crowd's angle, it looked like a desperate, heated kiss.

Jax blew a loud whistle and started screaming the countdown. "Five! Four!"

Adrian felt the rough, calloused skin of her thumb against his lips. His eyes darkened.

He didn't pull away. Instead, he slid his free arm around her waist, his large hand gripping her hip firmly, pulling her flush against his chest to deepen the fake embrace.

"One!" Jax yelled.

Juliette shoved Adrian's chest like she had just touched a hot stove.

She scrambled backward, grabbing her tablet with shaking hands. Her cheeks were burning.

Adrian took a half-step back. He slipped one hand into his pocket. His face was a mask of cool indifference, completely unaffected by the physical contact.

"Your number," Juliette demanded, holding out her phone. "For the data."

Adrian let out a low chuckle. "Phone's dead."

Juliette glared at him.

"Meet me at the campus carnival shooting range tomorrow," Adrian said smoothly. "Noon."

Before she could argue, he turned around. He walked toward the front door, leaving the stunned frat house behind him.

Juliette stared at his retreating back. She ground her teeth together, shoved her tablet into her backpack, and stood up.

She was getting that data tomorrow, even if it killed her.

The California sun beat down on Juliette's neck, making the collar of her t-shirt stick to her skin.

She gripped a printed gene-editing authorization form in her sweaty hand. She shoved her way through the dense crowd of the campus carnival.

A giant stuffed bear suddenly swung into her face. She swatted it away, her frustration peaking.

Then, she saw him.

Adrian stood by the shooting game booth. He wore a plain black t-shirt that stretched tight across his broad shoulders. He was staring down at a neon-orange plastic rifle in his hands, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

Juliette marched up to the wooden counter. She slammed the authorization form down on the peeling paint.

"Sign it," she demanded, out of breath. "And send the data."

Adrian looked up. His dark eyes looked tired. He let out a heavy sigh and pointed to the digital scoreboard behind the booth operator.

It read a massive, blinking zero.

The booth operator, a guy with a thick beard, snorted loudly. "Worst aim I've ever seen, man. Didn't even clip the paper."

Juliette stared at the scoreboard. Then she looked at Adrian, the physics prodigy who supposedly never failed at anything. Her jaw went slack.

Adrian set the plastic gun down on the counter. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking completely defeated.

"I'm in a terrible mood," Adrian said, his voice flat. "I don't think I can accurately recall those complex gene sequences right now."

Juliette's stomach dropped. The data was slipping away.

She slammed both hands on the counter, leaning in. "What do you need? Coffee? A nap? Tell me."

Adrian looked at her hands, then up to her eyes. "Come with me to the indoor range off-campus. Let me get my pride back with a real gun. Then I'll email you everything."

The word 'range' hit Juliette like a physical blow.

Her spine locked up. The carnival noise faded, replaced by the phantom echo of a starting buzzer and the blinding glare of stadium lights. Her breathing hitched.

Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her freeze.

He immediately picked up his phone, feigning indifference. "Never mind. We can talk another day."

He turned to walk away.

The thought of losing the data snapped Juliette out of her panic. She reached out and grabbed his wrist hard.

"Fine," she blurted out, her voice louder than necessary. "I'll go."

Adrian stopped. He didn't pull his arm away. Instead, he twisted his wrist, his large hand loosely wrapping around hers.

A tiny, triumphant smile touched the corner of his lips before he masked it. "Let's go."

Juliette followed him to the parking lot. She climbed into the passenger seat of his black SUV.

The interior smelled strongly of cedar and expensive leather. The scent grounded her slightly, easing the tight knot in her chest.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into a high-end shooting club in the Los Angeles suburbs.

Juliette stared at the thick soundproof walls of the building. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of her seatbelt.

Adrian opened the heavy glass doors. The lobby was quiet, the gunfire muffled by the tactical barriers.

Gregory Bernard and Jax, already in their shooting gear, were waiting for their reserved lane on a leather sofa near the front desk, drinking energy drinks.

When they saw Adrian walk in with Juliette, Gregory choked, spraying his drink across the coffee table.

Gregory jumped up, wiping his mouth. He circled Adrian and Juliette, his eyes wide. "Castillo? You brought a girl to the range? Why?"

Adrian shot Gregory a cold, warning glare. "Shut up, Gregory."

Adrian walked to the front desk to register for a lane.

Juliette stood awkwardly by the sofa. She rubbed her arms, feeling the chill of the air conditioning. "I'm just here for an academic exchange. I hate shooting."

Gregory scoffed, leaning in close to her. "Good luck. His motor skills are a disaster. It's embarrassing."

Adrian walked back holding two pairs of safety glasses and earmuffs. He handed a set to Juliette.

As she took them, his fingers brushed against her temple. He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Juliette's breath caught in her throat. Her skin burned where he touched her. She quickly shoved the earmuffs onto her head to hide her red ears.

They walked into the active shooting bay. The smell of gunpowder hit Juliette's nose, making her stomach clench.

Adrian picked up a standard .22 caliber pistol. He stepped up to the line.

His shoulders were stiff. His grip on the gun was entirely wrong.

Juliette stood behind the yellow safety line. Her hands twitched. Every instinct in her body screamed to step forward and fix his terrible posture. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself.

Adrian took a deep breath. He pulled the trigger.

Bang. The shot went wide, punching a hole in the paper target's empty border, scoring a definitive zero but at least hitting the right zip code.

Gregory slapped the protective glass partition, howling with laughter. "Still completely useless, Castillo!"

Adrian slowly lowered the gun. He turned around to look at Juliette.

His dark eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. He looked like a kicked puppy waiting for a pat on the head.

Juliette looked at his flawless face. The last bit of her defensive wall crumbled.

She let out a soft sigh. He really was just a helpless nerd outside of a classroom.

Juliette opened her mouth, trying to find a comforting word for the humiliated genius.

Before she could speak, the sharp, rhythmic click of custom riding boots echoed over the concrete floor.

Blair Prescott-Vaughn strutted into the shooting bay. She wore a skin-tight, designer shooting vest that cost more than Juliette's entire tuition. Her sidekick, Sierra, trailed right behind her.

Blair's eyes locked onto Adrian immediately. A bright, practiced smile stretched across her face.

Then, her gaze shifted. She saw Juliette standing next to him in baggy cargo pants stained with greenhouse dirt.

Blair's smile froze.

Sierra stepped forward, dramatically pinching her nose. "Ugh. Why does it smell like cheap fertilizer in here?"

Juliette looked down at the dry mud caked on her pant leg. She shrugged, her mind already drifting back to the potato genome sequence.

Blair walked right up to Adrian, her voice dripping with honey. "Adrian. I didn't expect to see you here."

She leaned in, pressing her arm against his, making sure her chest brushed his bicep.

Adrian's face went completely blank. He took a smooth half-step backward, putting distance between them. He gave a single, tight nod.

Blair's face flushed with irritation. She spun around, aiming her frustration directly at Juliette.

"Are you lost?" Blair asked, looking Juliette up and down with pure disgust. "The community garden is three miles that way."

Juliette just wanted her data. She rubbed her forehead. "I'm just here with a friend. I'm leaving soon."

The word 'friend' made Blair's eyes flash with genuine anger.

Blair let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Friend? Please. Ag-majors like you don't even know how to hold a gun, let alone belong in a club like this."

Gregory leaned against the partition, highly entertained. "Actually, Blair, Adrian brought her here himself."

Blair's jaw tightened. She marched over to her expensive leather case and snapped it open. She pulled out a heavily modified, competition-grade air pistol and slammed it onto the table.

"Let's play a game, then," Blair challenged, glaring at Juliette. "A ten-meter air pistol friendly match. You and me."

Juliette looked at the sleek black gun on the table.

Her stomach cramped violently. The phantom sound of a cheering crowd roared in her ears. She shook her head immediately. "No. I don't play stupid games."

Blair smirked, looking around at the other club members who had started to gather. "Look at the dirt-girl. Too scared to even touch it. You people really do just roll in the mud."

A few people in the crowd snickered. The judgmental stares felt heavy on Juliette's skin.

Juliette took a slow, deep breath, forcing the nausea down. She met Blair's eyes, her own gaze turning flat and cold. "What do you want?"

Blair walked back over to Adrian, her eyes shining with possessiveness. "If I win, you leave this club right now, and you never speak to Adrian again."

Juliette rolled her eyes. The childishness of it all was exhausting. She turned to leave.

"And if you win," Blair called out quickly, desperate to keep her audience, "you can ask for anything."

Juliette stopped dead in her tracks.

Her brain clicked. Blair's family controlled the largest agricultural fertilizer supply chain in California.

Juliette turned around slowly. Her eyes were sharp. "If I win, you deliver a pallet of premium experimental fertilizer to the university greenhouse. Free of charge."

Blair blinked, completely thrown off by the bizarre request. Then she threw her head back and laughed loudly. "Fine! Done."

Sierra chimed in from the back. "A match needs a real prize. The winner gets Adrian as a trophy."

Blair's eyes lit up. "Yes. The winner gets an exclusive dinner date with Adrian."

Every head in the bay snapped toward Adrian. Everyone knew the physics god never dated. They waited for him to explode and walk out.

Juliette frowned deeply. Treating a person like a poker chip made her skin crawl. She opened her mouth to tell Blair the bet was off.

A low, dark chuckle interrupted her.

The sound vibrated through the quiet bay. Adrian leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed entirely on Juliette.

He reached up and slowly unbuttoned the top button of his collar. His keen gaze had already swept over her earlier-the distinct, asymmetrical calluses on her right hand, the unconscious way she had perfectly squared her shoulders behind the safety line. He knew exactly what she was capable of.

"Fine," Adrian said, his voice smooth as glass.