Chapter 4

I looked down.

It was a confidentiality agreement.

The terms were dense, but the core message was clear.

I had to keep everything that happened between Vincent and me under wraps.

Otherwise, I'd be on the hook for a massive payout.

I counted the zeros, my heart skipping a beat.

One million dollars, huh?

Even if I sold myself, I wouldn't be worth that much.

I forced myself to stay calm and looked up at him. "Prof. Hayes, what does this mean?"

Vincent picked up his coffee and took a slow sip, his movements so graceful that it looked like a scene straight out of a movie.

His voice was cold and flat. "It means exactly what it says.

"I'm being considered for a promotion, so anything that could be a stain on my record has to be wiped clean.

"That includes you."

"A stain?" That word cut deep.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "Is that all I am to you?"

Vincent set his cup down, the glare from his glasses hiding whatever he was feeling.

"Hannah, we're both adults here. Don't act all naive.

"You were the one who climbed into my bed, saying you'd do anything for that guaranteed spot in grad school.

"Now that you've got what you wanted, I want my peace back," he said.

What?

My head buzzed, like it had exploded.

I threw myself at him for a grad school spot?

I had done something like that?

Shame crashed over me like a tidal wave, and I felt my blood run cold.

So I wasn't just some heartbreaker.

I was a bitch who'd sell herself for a shot at grad school.

I stared at this sanctimonious Vincent in front of me, my stomach twisting with disgust.

"I don't remember," I said through gritted teeth, my voice shaking. "I've lost my memory."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, looking a bit surprised. But his face quickly went back to that cold, unreadable look.

"Lost your memory? That actually works out better for me," he said.

He handed me the pen. "If you can't remember, go ahead and sign.

"From now on, we owe each other nothing."

I stared at the pen, not reaching for it.

"What if I don't sign?" I asked.

Vincent laughed.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper only for the two of us. "Not signing?

"Then your childhood sweetheart, and that flashy nouveau riche guy who's been showering you with cash, will both get to know what you're like when you're under me."

I jerked my head up, staring at him in utter disbelief. "You!"

Vincent pushed his glasses up, a nasty, almost gleeful edge in his voice. "What, surprised?

"Hannah, you really think you can hide your dirty laundry from anyone?

"Juggling three guys at once? Damn, you're really getting around.

"If the two find out you were willing to give yourself to me for a grad school spot, how will they treat you then?"

I stared at Vincent's refined, scholarly face, and all I felt was pure disgust.

He was a professor.

How could he say something so vile?

"You're shameless!" I snapped.

I snatched up the glass of water, about to splash it in his face.

But Vincent was ready. He grabbed my wrist before I could move.

Water spilled everywhere, soaking the table in a messy splash.

"Hannah, don't push your luck," Vincent warned.

His smile faded, and his tone turned sharp and menacing. "It's 3:15.

"Ethan is still waiting outside, isn't he?

"What do you think happens if I walk out right now and tell him you begged me not to break up with you?

"Will he trust you or me?"

I felt a chill run down my spine.

If Ethan, that psycho, heard something like that, he'd go ballistic on the spot.

I'd be totally screwed.

My hand shook as I picked up the pen.

Humiliation burned in my eyes, tears threatening to spill over.

Just as the pen touched the paper, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from the Bonus Guy, the contact with no saved name.

It read: [Hannah, don't sign it.

[Vincent's lying to you. That grad school spot was never yours.]