Sid  Leclair  doesn’t beg, bend, or break. She doesn’t ask for permission — she inherits power and watches the world shape itself around her last name. Daughter of Richard  Leclair , the man billionaires fear and governments don’t say no to, Sid walks through life like she owns it.

Because in most ways, she does.

So when a newly hired professor at her elite university dares to call her out — publicly, sharply, without flinching — she doesn’t know whether to be offended… or intrigued.

Theo Arden is brilliant, principled, and frustratingly indifferent to who she is. He sees through the designer armor, the biting sarcasm, the curated chaos — and still doesn’t care. After an explosive confrontation in class, he gives her detention.

Every day.
Alone.
With him.

It’s supposed to be punishment.
But it becomes a standoff.

The more they clash, the more the heat builds. Between whispered insults and loaded silences, something forbidden simmers in the air — something dangerous enough to ruin them both. Because Theo may be the only person who’s ever told Sid no… and the only one she can’t stop thinking about.

Power. Pride. And a pull neither of them can escape.
In a world where everyone plays games, they might be each other’s only truth — and their greatest downfall.

I entered the class like I owned the place which well dad did. I was late but not in a hurry I don't speed up for stuff the stuff speeds up for me. I was dressed like I'd lost a bet with Vogue — silk blouse, thigh-high boots, and an attitude that could curdle milk.


Seats were full. Eyes were on me. So I chose the front row, center. Clicked my heels all the way down like a threat.


He was already there writing something on the smartboard 


Black baggy jeans, a loose button up shirt, sleeves rolled up revealing his veins on his arm, a silver rolex watch on wrist to accessories. 


Looking at the outfit? The heels? The LV bag? No, at me my face. 


Like I was the question he didn't want but now  had to solve. 


I looked at him and gave him a sly smirk. 


 She walked in as if she owned the place wow I hate her already. 


I saw it in the way she didn't ask for space—she took it.


Front row. Center. Eyes daring me to say something.


She looked bored. Beautiful. Dangerous.


"Sid," she said, cutting me off. "No last name. You won't need it."


The class laughed. She smiled like she'd won.


Then I turned to the board and wrote two words:


Chapter 3 - “Thirty Percent of Nothing”