Love Bet

Travis’ POV

There’s a moment, right before you win, when the world slows down. The final move in a high-stakes poker game. The last shot before the buzzer. The split-second when she looks at you—not just looks, sees you—and you know you’ve got her.

That moment? That’s what I live for.

And tonight, I had it.

Princess Amina Al-Fayed lay in my bed, wrapped in silk sheets and the afterglow of surrender. Her dark, intoxicating eyes—eyes that had once held entire royal courts at a distance—were now softer, hazy with satisfaction.

“Are you going to gloat?” she murmured, her accent smooth like honeyed whiskey.

I smirked, stretching out beside her, my head resting lazily against my hand. “I don’t gloat, sweetheart. I just enjoy my victories.”

She laughed, a quiet, breathy sound, rolling onto her side to trace a delicate finger along my collarbone. “And is that what I am? A victory?”

I didn’t answer. Because the truth was, she was.

Not just a victory—the victory. The untouchable princess. A woman whose suitors included world leaders, billionaires, and men whose bloodlines had been woven into history itself.

And now? She was on my list.

The List

Every guy has one. The kind of list they start in high school or college—girls they want to sleep with, impossible conquests, the ones that come with bragging rights.

But mine? Mine wasn’t a high school locker room fantasy.

My list wasn’t about just any women—it was about the women. The ones no one else could touch. The ones out of reach, too powerful, too intelligent, too dangerous.

A CEO who crushed competitors like insects.

A Hollywood A-lister whose scandals never made the tabloids.

A diplomat’s daughter who had a security team larger than some military units.

And now? A princess.

My list wasn’t just about seduction. It was about proving a point. That no matter how high they built their walls, no matter how much they believed they were immune—I could still be the exception.

Lucas and Adam knew about it. They were the only ones who did. And they were also the only ones who knew the kind of women that actually made the cut.

So when Lucas leaned back in his chair that night, a slow grin spreading across his face, I already knew he was about to say something stupid.

“Alright, Cole. You bagged the princess,” he drawled, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Time for a real challenge.”

I exhaled, already unimpressed. “Oh, please, don’t embarrass yourself by suggesting some Instagram model. I have standards.”

Adam snorted. “Yeah, yeah, we know—your precious list of impossible women.”

Lucas leaned forward, elbows on the table. “We’re talking about a different kind of impossible.”

I took a sip of my drink. “Let me guess. Some girl who ghosted you? A barista who told you to fuck off?”

Adam smirked. “Try Sophia Moreau.”

I stopped mid-sip.

Lucas’ grin widened. “That’s right. The Sophia Moreau. Your list’s final boss.”

Sophia Moreau. The name alone could clear a room.

Brilliant. Merciless. Unfathomably rich by her own doing, not by inheritance. She didn’t just break into the world of high-performance car tech—she built it. The woman could tear a man apart in three sentences or less, and she didn’t just walk through life untouchable—she designed it that way.

And most importantly? She had zero interest in men like me.

I chuckled, setting my drink down. “Yeah. No.”

Lucas lifted a brow. “No?”

I shrugged. “Some women are out of reach. Even for me.”

Adam scoffed. “Bullshit.”

I smirked. “It’s not about can I. It’s about should I.”

Lucas let out a laugh. “Should you? Since when do you care about should?”

Since now.

Since I knew the moment you got close to a woman like Sophia, it stopped being a game.

And I didn’t do games I couldn’t win.

Of course, life had a funny way of making my decisions for me.

It happened later that night. An exclusive gala, the kind where the air reeked of old money and power. The kind of event I’d normally attend out of obligation, find someone to entertain myself with, and leave before the speeches began.

But tonight? I didn’t make it to the entertainment part.

Because she was there.

Sophia Moreau, standing across the room, encased in a navy-blue dress that fit her like a damn weapon. She was deep in conversation with someone important—probably a senator or a tech mogul—her expression unreadable, her posture screaming control.

And then, her eyes met mine.

For a moment, nothing existed. No gala, no champagne glasses clinking, no murmurs of billion-dollar deals.

Just her.

Something dark and unfamiliar curled in my gut.

She wasn’t like the others.

Every other woman I’d ever pursued, there had been a way in. A weakness to exploit, a moment of hesitation I could slip through.

Sophia?

I could already tell.

She was airtight.

And yet, even as I told myself she was out of my league, out of anyone’s league, I felt it.

The pull.

The same instinct that had driven me toward every impossible conquest before her.

I wasn’t supposed to want this.

But I did.

And that was going to be a problem.

“You’re staring,” she said smoothly, her voice cool as steel as she approached.

I smiled. “Am I?”

She tilted her head slightly, studying me like I was an interesting puzzle piece she’d already decided wasn’t worth solving. “If you’re looking for someone to charm tonight, you should set your sights elsewhere.”

Damn.

Most people at least pretended to be polite.

I smirked. “Who says I’m here to charm?”

She arched a perfect brow. “Aren’t you?”

I took a slow sip of my drink. “Would it work?”

“Not a chance.”

I grinned. “See, that’s just encouraging me.”

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Men like you are predictable.”

I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping just enough for only her to hear. “And yet, you came over here.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she gave me a slow, appraising glance—the kind that said she had already assessed every single angle of me and found me irrelevant.

And fuck me, but I liked it.

This was different.

This was dangerous.

I’d told Lucas and Adam she was out of reach.

And I had meant it.

But standing here, watching the way she looked at me like I was nothing, feeling something burn in my chest that I wasn’t used to?

I knew.

This wasn’t just another woman to add to my list.

This was the woman I wasn’t supposed to chase.

Which meant, of course—

I was going to.