“What’s this?” Not a moment later she said, “Another contract? You already had this made? You were so certain I was going to come back?”

“Ten million is hard to turn down.” Even for someone like Snitch, who I’d started to think was different. It was a cruel temptation to want her back, and also never want to see her again, so that my hope was right—she wasn’t like everyone else.

She didn’t just want the Grayson Crowne.

“I don’t want your money,” she spat.

I looked up before I could stop myself. She wrinkled the contract in one hand. Somehow when she glared, it made her eyes fucking bigger.

“My uncle gets it all,” she continued, “and he never finds out.”

My brow furrowed. What game was she playing? Did she think if she tried to act like some innocent altruist I would give her more money?

As if I hadn’t seen that before.

Silence passed between us, her glare stone.

“Why are you here, Story?” I asked against my better judgment.

She glowered. “To sleep with you, get ten million, and never see you again.”

I don’t know why that response fucked me up inside.

So I shook it off with a grin. “You didn’t read the contract. Again.”

She shot an uncertain glance at the papers. “Can’t we just seal it with another secret?”

“Maybe,” I said. “If you let me choose your secret.”

Discomfort colored her cheeks, and a wrinkle formed on her lips, but she said, “Okay.”

I set my book down. “Why do you like me, Story Hale? What is it about me that caught your eye?” It was a dangerous question to ask, because no matter the answer, the outcome was the same.

I marry Lottie, the girl I’ve loved for almost a decade.

I forget the girl who stole her way into my thoughts and heart.

She swallowed. “You’re Grayson Crowne. What’s not to like?”

I wasn’t expecting to feel a stabbing pain in my chest at her response. Something flickered in her eyes—regret? Like she could see my thoughts. So I quickly plastered a smile on my face. I was starting to be too transparent with Snitch. Not a good sign.

“Now you,” she said.

I shook my head. “Sign the contract. I’ve been playing by your rules. Now we play by mine, Snitch.”

“So why ask me a secret at all?” She dropped her hands, desperation trickling from her words.

I shrugged. “Bored.”

Her mouth dropped. “You’re horrible.”

“The worst. Now read it.”

She swallowed, shooting me one last burning glare, before looking at the contract. At the first line item, a deep groove formed between her brows.

“No kissing?”

I stared at her lips.