Calder

SERA VOSS

The rooftop bar buzzes with energy, the music thrumming in sync with the city's pulse. Manhattan's skyline stretches in every direction, glittering against the night like an indifferent audience to my unraveling. I sip my too-sweet cocktail, the tang of lime not enough to mask the burn of tequila-or the sting of reality. 

Violet leans into my space, her blonde hair a soft halo in the low light, her hazel eyes sharp with mischief. "You look like you're plotting something devious." 

"Not devious," I say, swirling my straw. "Just desperate." 

Her laugh is quick, easy, drawing the attention of nearby strangers like moths to a flame. "Come on, Sera, loosen up. One night of fun won't kill you."

"I am fun," I protest weakly, but the words feel hollow. My inbox, full of rejections, feels heavier than ever. The realization of not being enough-or not being noticed-clings to me like a second skin.

"Sure you are," Violet teases, arching a brow. "Let's test that theory."

"Test?" 

She sips her champagne, her lips curling in a wicked smile. "Let's make a bet."

I narrow my eyes. "What kind of bet?"

"The kind where you stop wallowing and actually live a little." She smirks, leaning closer. "The next guy who approaches you? You have to make out with him."

I nearly choke on my drink. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Come on, Sera. What's the worst that could happen? He's probably a finance bro. You'll survive."

I shake my head, laughing despite myself. "Violet, no. Absolutely not."

"Yes," she counters, her grin widening. "I dare you. Unless you're scared?"

My pride flares at the challenge, and I set my glass down with deliberate precision. "Fine," I snap. "But if he's a troll, I'm holding you responsible."

"Deal." She raises her flute in triumph, her eyes scanning the room like a predator hunting prey.

And that's when the universe decides to play its cruelest trick.

He walks in, commanding attention like the air itself bends to him. Lucian Caldera. The name doesn't register at first; it's his presence that hits like a freight train. Tall, devastatingly polished, and exuding a quiet authority that makes the room feel smaller. His dark suit fits like a second skin, and his chiseled features look more like a sculpture than a face.

Violet's gasp is sharp enough to cut glass. "Oh my God," she hisses, grabbing my arm. "It's him."

"Who?" I ask, already regretting agreeing to this.

"Lucian Caldera," she whispers urgently. "Billionaire. Tech genius. Tabloid gold. Also, notoriously unavailable. And he's... coming this way."

"What?" I freeze, my pulse kicking into overdrive. "No, he's not."

But he is.

Each step he takes is calculated, deliberate, and before I can figure out an escape plan, he's standing in front of me. His gaze is dark, assessing, and far too intense. I expect him to look through me, but instead, he looks at me like he's already figured me out.

"You're in my spot," he says, the words low and smooth, the kind that could make anything sound like a command.

My heart slams against my ribs, but I don't let it show. "Didn't realize the bar had assigned seating."

His lips twitch, almost a smile but not quite. "I'll let it slide this time."

"How generous," I reply, lifting my glass as if to toast him. "So, what brings Manhattan's most eligible bachelor to a rooftop bar? Slumming it for the evening?"

"Depends," he says, his tone dipping into something more dangerous. "What brings you here?"

Violet clears her throat loudly beside me, but I ignore her, refusing to break eye contact. "A bet," I say boldly, feeling reckless. "Apparently, I'm supposed to kiss the next man who talks to me. Congratulations, you're the lucky winner."

His brow arches slightly, the only sign of surprise he allows. "A bet?" 

"Don't worry," I say quickly, smirking. "You're free to decline."

But instead of brushing me off, he leans closer, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. "And if I accept?"

"Then I guess I'm buying my friend another round," I quip, my voice steadier than I feel.

The tension between us is a live wire, crackling in the charged air. Violet is practically vibrating with excitement, her whispered encouragement drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears.