Ashton Wells
The city of Las Vegas stretched beneath me, a dazzling display of neon lights and unspoken promises. Standing at the edge of my private rooftop pool, I swirled the whiskey in my glass, my thoughts far from the high-stakes deals that usually occupied my mind. Tonight, I wasn't thinking about business. I was thinking about a bet.
A reckless, absurd, and utterly irresistible bet.
Marcus's words still echoed in my head. "You can buy power, Ashton. You can buy women. But love? That's one thing you'll never have."
I had laughed then, brushing off his challenge. But as the evening stretched on and the whiskey warmed my veins, the idea started to intrigue me. A wager unlike any I had taken before. A test not of money or strategy, but of my ability to control fate itself.
"Find true love in thirty days," Marcus had smirked, his fingers lazily tapping against the rim of his glass. "And if you fail, I take a stake in Wells Casinos."
It was a ridiculous bet. I didn't believe in love. But winning was in my nature, and I never turned down a challenge.
Footsteps approached behind me. "You've been standing there for twenty minutes, and that look on your face tells me you're up to something."
Rachel. My ever-efficient, ever-practical assistant.
I smirked without turning around. "I made a bet."
"With who?" she asked, stepping beside me, her arms crossed.
"Marcus."
Rachel groaned. "Oh God. What did he rope you into this time?"
I finally turned to her, letting the weight of my words settle between us. "I bet him I could find love in thirty days."
Rachel's eyes widened in horror. "You what?"
I chuckled. "You heard me."
She rubbed her temples, as if physically pained by my stupidity. "Ashton, do you even hear yourself? You don't do relationships, let alone love."
"I never said I had to actually fall in love," I countered. "I just need to make Marcus believe I have."
Rachel's expression darkened. "And what happens to the woman you choose for this… experiment?"
I shrugged. "She gets the experience of dating a billionaire."
Rachel sighed. "You're impossible."
I turned back toward the city, scanning the crowded rooftop bar below. Women laughed, flirted, and sipped their overpriced cocktails, blissfully unaware that one of them was about to become the key to my victory.
And then, I saw her.
Raven-black hair cascaded down her back, catching the glow of the ambient lights. She stood out from the others, not because she was trying to, but because of the effortless way she carried herself. Confident. Unbothered. Completely unaware of the game she was about to be pulled into.
My heart did something it had no business doing—skipped a beat.
Rachel followed my gaze. "Oh no. You're not seriously—"
I smirked. "I've found my mark."
And just like that, the bet was in motion.