Cheating Season

The whip sliced through the air and landed on my back.

This time, I didn't shed a single tear.

Only ambition thrived in the pain, growing deep within my flesh.

Under the bright light of the study, I tilted my head back and smiled.

"Dad, I'll find a way to keep Fletcher Corp working with Lloyd Corp."

***

That night, I drank a little.

I dreamt of the first time I met Joel.

Back then, he had just transferred from an international team to the domestic league—already one of the most sought-after players in esports. At some mid-tier business gala, he was one of the night's main attractions.

I'd stepped into the garden with my wine when I ran into him.

"Hello, Mr. Arnoult. I'm Leila Lloyd," I greeted with a polite smile.

"Oh, I know you." His tone was lazy. "Inside, they're saying you're a doormat. I saw your husband speeding off with his girlfriend when I stepped out."

My smile didn't budge. "I know."

"Doesn't that piss you off?"

"No."

"Don't you want to get back at him?"

"And how would I do that?"

Under the moonlight, his sharp eyes and youthful features stood out. Something about him felt... dangerous.

A rush of drunken boldness made me lean in. "Unless... you'd be willing to help me return the favor?"

Joel laughed. "Not really my kind of hobby."

I blinked. "Shame."

I started to step back, but he caught my wrist.

"Giving up that easily?" He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe if you tried a little harder, I'd consider it."

***

My phone rang, jolting me awake.

I answered.

Joel's voice came through. "Leila, I'm outside."

***

The autumn air was crisp, but Joel burned.

His kiss was rough, heated, full of frustration.

"You act like you don't care, like you're done with me." His breath was hot against my skin. "But that was just for show, wasn't it?"

My head was still foggy with alcohol. I frowned, pinching his chin.

"Shut up. If you're gonna do it, do it. Stop talking so much."

Joel stilled.

Then, slowly, he smiled. It seemed dangerous.

"You said it."

The night wind howled through the city.

By the end, my fingers were digging into his shoulders, my body trembling.

Under the warm glow of the light, his palm pressed against my skin, slipping through like water.

Then Scott's call came in.

I tensed instantly.

Joel exhaled sharply, catching my wrist before I could decline. Instead, he answered.

Scott's voice was thick with alcohol. "Leila, went home, got yourself beaten—still haven't figured out how to make it up to me?"

He let out a low chuckle. "Forget it. I'll give you a chance. I'm at Obsidian. Come pick me up."

"I'm—"

Before I could even say "I'm busy," Joel suddenly thrust deeper, knocking the air from my lungs.

Even trying hard, I couldn't stop the breathy sounds that escaped.