Tipping The Billionaire: His Runaway Lover

The brass doorknob was freezing against Alida's palm, but the ice in her veins was colder.

She stared down at the floor of the Greenwich Village apartment. A pair of black lace panties lay tangled with a familiar blue polo shirt. Deron's shirt. The one she had ironed for him yesterday.

A heavy, wet sound leaked through the crack of the bedroom door. A low groan. A high-pitched, breathy giggle.

Bile surged up Alida's throat, burning like battery acid. Her stomach violently contracted. She didn't cry. The shock was too absolute, paralyzing her tear ducts and turning her muscles to stone.

She took a sharp breath, the air scraping her lungs, and shoved the door open. It hit the wall with a loud crack.

The two bodies on the bed froze.

Krystal let out a piercing shriek, scrambling to pull the white duvet over her bare chest. Her eyes darted to Alida, but the panic in them quickly morphed into a defiant glare.

Deron whipped his head around. All the blood drained from his face, leaving his skin a sickly, ashen gray.

"Alida," he stammered, his voice cracking. "It's not... wait, let me explain."

Alida's spine locked into a rigid line. Beneath her skin, her heart shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, tearing at her chest. A primal urge to scream, to tear the room apart, clawed at her throat. But she bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, forcing the hysteria down. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of her tears. She dug her fingernails so hard into her palms that crescent moons of broken skin formed. Only then, with her emotions violently suppressed, did she force her hands to remain steady as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

She raised the camera.

Click. Flash.

Click. Flash.

Click. Flash.

The harsh white light strobe-lit their naked, terrified faces.

"Are you insane? !" Deron roared. He lunged off the bed, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor, reaching for her phone.

Alida side-stepped with clinical precision. Deron's momentum carried him forward, and he crashed hard onto his hands and knees, panting like a cornered animal.

Alida looked down at him. Her chest was tight, a physical band of iron squeezing her ribs. She shifted her gaze to the nightstand.

A piece of paper sat next to a half-empty glass of water. The fraternity crest was printed at the top.

She walked over, her heels clicking methodically, and picked it up.

"Target: Alida McGowan," Alida read aloud, her voice devoid of any human warmth. "Bounty: Fifty thousand dollars. Condition: Full submission."

The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

Deron scrambled to his feet, sweat beading on his forehead. "Alida, please. That was a joke. A stupid frat joke. I love you."

Krystal let out a harsh laugh from the bed. "Oh, please. You're a boring, frigid prude, Alida. What did you expect him to do?"

Alida turned. She closed the