THE BET

Four years.

For four straight years, I, Zack Bruce, had ruled the swimming arena. No one had been born to defeat me.

No one… until him.

Ambrose Nostitz.

Even his name felt like a wound waiting to reopen—an omen to break my streak. And yet, no matter how hard I tried to ignore him, he always appeared in my lane, in my way, in my thoughts.

I tossed my towel aside and headed into the changing room. The scent of chlorine still clung to my skin as I pushed the door open—

A hand shot out and grabbed me.

The door slammed behind me. A lock clicked sharply.

My breath caught. I shut my eyes on instinct, startled, then opened them slowly.

Ambrose stood right in front of me.

Anger flared instantly. “What the hell is your—”

But he cut me off, stepping closer than anyone had a right to.

“I can’t wait anymore,” he said, voice low, trembling with something he was trying hard to hold in. “I don’t know how you’ll react, but every time I see you with someone else… I get jealous. I get furious.”

Something shifted in the air—heavy, warm, unmistakably alpha.

“I… like you, Zack,” he whispered. “I really do. Will you accept me? Will you be my boyfriend?”

My entire body went rigid.

Not because of his confession.

But because I was close to my heat cycle, and his alpha phenomenon was strong enough to trigger it right there.

“Ambrose—stop,” I warned, heart pounding.

He didn’t.

He moved half a step closer, eyes softening, breath brushing my cheek.

That was it.

Before my body could betray me, I shoved him away with a sharp kick. He hit the wall with a grunt, pain flicking across his face, but his eyes held something maddening:

Hope.

I stormed out, refusing to let that look haunt me any further.

But of course it did.

It followed me all the way to the competition arena. The cheers of the crowd barely registered.

“WHO will take the title this year?” the announcer boomed. “The four-year champion, Zack Bruce, or the academy’s heart-throb, Ambrose Nostitz?!”

I slapped my cheeks hard.

“Focus, Zack. You’re racing. Not thinking about… that.”

But the memory of him locking that door, his voice, his scent—

No. Stop.

The gunshot rang.

The race began.

I pushed forward, slicing through water, determined to outrun everything—Ambrose, his confession, my own fear. First lap I was ahead, second lap too.

Last lap.

My fingers reached forward—

But another hand touched the board before mine.

Ambrose.

The crowd erupted.

I surfaced slowly, disappointment crushing me. I sat on the bench, staring at the floor, trying to swallow the burn in my chest.

A hand suddenly appeared in front of me.

“Well played… Zack.”

I looked up.

Ambrose stood there—dripping wet, breathing hard, eyes unreadable.

I wanted to stay angry. I really did.

But I took his hand anyway. “Yeah… well played.”

He smirked as I walked away, like he knew exactly how unsteady he’d made me.

I hated that smirk.

After the championship, the waiting hall was full of both teams arguing loudly. The second I entered, the noise died.

Two seconds later, chaos exploded again.

Team A grabbed my left arm.

Team B grabbed my right.

“Zack needs to follow the bet!”

“No! The bet’s unfair! It shouldn’t count!”

Why… why did I ever agree to this stupid thing?

The whole mess had started weeks ago when Team A and Team B had a huge fight over who was the better swimmers. Words escalated. Trash talk turned personal. Old memories I tried to bury were pulled out and thrown in my face.

I nearly cried that day—but forced the tears back.

Ambrose had watched. Silent. Unmoving.

Then Alex, that loud, overconfident first-year from a rich family, suddenly shouted:

“Let’s bet! Whoever loses the next interschool match has to cross-dress and attend the party my dad was invited to!”

Everyone went silent.

Then screamed in excitement.

Ambrose heard it from the corner.

He smirked.

Of course he smirked.

And now here we were—standing in front of that very party.

A party filled not just with wealthy businessmen and elegant women…

But with some of the most powerful mafia families in the country.

Just my luck.

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