Karma's eyes snapped back into focus when a graded essay plopped onto her desk. It was an analysis of D'latique's classics. Karma frowned at the large "B" written in red ink. She was tempted to confront her professor, Wickham Moriano, about the things he'd marked her off for. A small grammar mistake. A font he didn't care for. None of these things had to do with Classical Compositions.

Wicked Moron giving you trouble?

What timing. Karma grinned. He had never texted her before—hell, he had never texted anyone before. Was he jealous that she was in Wickham's class and not home with him? She texted back. Loads of trouble, but not as much as the cat's giving you I'm sure.

A couple minutes of eagerly tapping her fingers and glancing at her screen before he replied, I take it you'll be out late practicing again?

Yes plus Sage invited me for drinks tonight. Sorry.

Don't apologize. It's not your fault there's no piano here.

"Miss Karma, please pay attention."

Her whole body flushed. The eyes of her peers rolled toward her. She sunk into her seat. "Sorry, professor."

Then, the words she dreaded most in the world: "See me after class."

When the bell rang, shrill and unforgiving, Karma slugged, gathering her things, delaying the inevitable as the room emptied around her like a funnel. Finally, she approached his desk.

Wickham looked up from his papers. His gold-flecked eyes sparkled with good humor, though there was a definite edge to his easy smile. Something told Karma to keep her guard up.

"Miss Karma." She had told him prior to drop the "miss." It stung that their relationship had deteriorated from a shared familiarity. She squeezed her toes. "I assume you were texting Mr. Ackerman?"

Karma's silence confirmed it.

"Don't worry—you're not in trouble. In fact, I've been hoping for an excuse to talk to you for some time now about Mr. Ackerman."

She wasn't prepared for his next question: "Does he love you?"

The timidness dissolved. Karma was hit with squinting suspicion. "Is that any of your business, professor?"

"Perhaps not. Though it is my place to worry for your well-being. Last I saw you with Mr. Ackerman, you were running away in tears. He didn't even bother to chase after you. In fact, he seemed more concerned with saving face among the guests. Now, why would he prioritize staunching gossip and rumors over chasing after his lover? Any respectable man would do the latter. The only conclusion I could reach was that he simply doesn't love you."

"He—" Karma couldn't finish the sentence. Wickham was right—Levi had never told her he loved her. To say otherwise would be a bold-faced lie. Karma switched tactics. "I would argue that keeping the media happy is understandable for a businessman."

"You mean, keeping them fooled." Wickham held her gaze with smirking eyes. "Am I wrong? Is the media not being fooled by your riveting romance?"

"I love him," Karma supplied.

"I know that much. You wouldn't have rejected me otherwise. However, I have a feeling you will be more complacent this time."

"What?"

"Adalia May is a good friend of mine. She would be very interested to learn that Mr. Ackerman's romantic resurgence to the media has been fabricated. The press would have a hay day—one that's sure to defame Ackerman Enterprises."

Karma's jaw was granite. "You clearly want something."

Wickham smiled, beautiful and serene with a newfound twinge of mischief. How had she ever fallen for that smile? Though he spoke like a gentleman and practiced the appropriate mannerisms, he was wicked. Wicked Moron—Levi had been right all along.

"Miss Karma, my wishes haven't changed. I simply want to take you out to dinner." Wickham folded his hands and listed his head. "Isn't your secret worth an hour of your time?"

"Just dinner?"

"That's all. And the venue will be completely private. No need to worry about prying eyes. Of course, keep this secret from Mr. Ackerman. But that goes without saying."

"Why me?"

"Why not you?"

"What are you getting out of this? What do you really want?"

"I thought my intentions were clear. I just want my fair chance at your affections."

Karma knew better than to trust his seemingly innocent intentions, so she planned on being prepared with pepper spray and a whistle. But she had to go. She couldn't let Wickham divulge their secret. She would do this for Levi.

"Fine."

"Then it is settled. Tomorrow evening."

The entire walk home, guilt chewed Karma's stomach. She felt sick. There was so much she wanted to tell Levi, but she was scared that revealing any portion of her conversation with Wickham might give her away. She peeled open the front door.

"You're home early," Levi said, Jean curled in his lap, a worn novel on the coffee table. "Still have plans with that friend of yours?"

"Yes, and we're going out tomorrow night too. I'd invite you, but Connie might be there." The lie felt convincing enough.

But, of course, Levi was shrewd. The slight change in her cadence. The tilt of her shoulders. He knew she was holding something back. "What's wrong with you?"

She decided on a partial truth. "I got in trouble for texting in class."

"Hm, you hate disappointing authority figures." Levi rustled Jean's ears. "Be stealthier tomorrow. I like texting you." The guilt swelled, but Karma managed a shallow smile.

Evening rolled around and Karma was grateful to have Sage as a distraction. She was finding it difficult to look Levi in the eye, knowing she was going to betray his trust. She hated keeping secrets, even if they were necessary.

The cab dropped her off at exactly the kind of fancy-shmancy New Marley club that Sage had always dreamed about. Clean floors, colorful lights. Taps without leaks. Tables that she didn't have to wait.

Karma found Sage at a sleek bar top with a fruity cocktail. Since moving in with Connie, Sage had truly embraced the culture and aesthetic of New Marley. She wore a sheer black top with knee high lace-up boots and enough jewelry to sink a ship. Her dark hair was a silk sheet down her back, her nails glistening. Among her many jewels, Karma noticed a new one.

"Oh my god, Sage!" Karma admired the ring, a gold band with an emerald centerpiece. "That was fast. When did he propose?"

"Last night—he rented a hot air balloon and popped the question under a million stars. I still can't believe it's real, but when you know, you know."

Karma tried not to let this bother her. Hearing how Connie was blowing Levi's money, digging him further into bankruptcy. She gritted her teeth. "So it doesn't bother you that he kept his identity secret?"

Sage finally looked up from the emerald. Her brow creased. "It's just a name. He's exactly the person I thought he was. And I understand why he was trying to stay incognito. But enough about me—" That was a new phrase for Sage. "How are things with your sexy professor?"

Karma's heart sputtered. No way Sage knew anything about tomorrow's blackmail date. As far as she knew, everything in the tabloids was true. Karma adored her best friend, but Sage was not good with secrets.

Karma schooled her expression. "You know I'm with Levi, right?"

"Oh, please. You've been in love with Wickham for as long as I can remember. No way he's not tempting you, teaching you about treble clef and what not."

Karma snorted. "He asked me out and I turned him down." She showed Sage the texts. "See? I'm over him."

"No way."

"Yeah, I'm in love with Levi. I don't want anyone else." That much was true, at least.

"Oh my god, give me all the deets. You're still living with him, right? I bet you guys get down and dirty all the time—he probably gets zero work done with you around."

"Yeah, something like that."

"What? You guys haven't fucked?"

Damn. Sage was perceptive.

Karma wrung her hands. "It just hasn't been the right time."

"If he won't fuck you, he'd better show his love through his wallet. Or else you're just wasting your time." Sage's eye sparkled. "Unless he can't."

Right. Sage was there when the card declined. Karma twirled the mini umbrella in her drink. "He was just allocating his funds. That's why that account happened to be empty." Sage didn't need to know that Connie was a beneficiary of that "allocation."

"Hm, I was hoping for something a little juicier. Ooo! Connie got me another modeling gig. It's for a perfume that smells like absolute shit, but I'm gonna be on a billboard! It's amazing what money can do."

"Connie certainly shows his love through his wallet." Karma said it more to the rim of her glass than to Sage. She threw back the rest of the drink and decided to pry. "Do you know what happened between him and Levi? Why things were so tense back at the movies?"

Sage shook her head. "I know Connie feels awful that Levi's in a wheelchair because of him. He hasn't forgiven himself."

"Well Levi's not in a wheelchair anymore."

"Sorry, Karms, that's all I know. If something else did happen there was probably some kind of pay out or NDA because Connie tells me everything."

"Why did he want to talk to Levi that night? You said Connie was eager to talk to him."

"I don't think he had a reason, he just wanted to talk. If something were to happen between us, you wouldn't want to be cut off from me forever would you?"

"Of course not."

"Exactly. That's all there is to it."

That thought settled in Karma's mind. Connie wanted to talk to Levi because he missed him. The same could be true for all of the Scouts. Why was Levi so reluctant to see his friends? Surely he missed them too, especially if he was supporting their sports-car-hot-air-balloon lifestyles.

Karma and Sage talked until well-past midnight, then shared a cab. Karma felt depleted as she locked the penthouse door behind her. The alcohol was giving her a headache, and all she wanted to do was sleep until next month. But the light in the kitchen was on.

Levi looked up as she came in, having already made two cups of tea. It was still an adjustment to see him walking with crutches. He used the cane too, though he hated how it aged him.

He handed Karma her cup. It was warm between her palms. One bag, one sugar. Karma sipped, her anxieties and fears chased down her throat by the sweet tea. For a peaceful moment, she simply watched Levi stir in a sugar cube, twirling the spoon in slow circles. Just like the slow circles his thumb had traced on her cheek.

She noticed the sleep under his eyes. The pleat in his cotton pajamas. The loose lock of hair on his brow. He was so handsome even in the middle of a sleepless night.

I like it when you're around.

She smiled, suddenly nostalgic. "Granny Angie would have liked you."

Levi looked up. The spoon paused. "Your grandmother?"

"Basically. She called me her granddaughter. She always teased me that I was going to end up like her. An old lady with too many cats."

"Not such a bad life. Unless Jean is the model for all cats."

"Please, you love Jean."

Levi laughed through his nose. "You two were close?"

"She was the closest thing to family I had after The Rumbling."

"Sorry."

"You're the last person who should be apologizing." Karma watched her tea ripple. "I didn't want to be a caretaker, but I kind of felt obligated when her hip gave out. And I didn't mind it. I got to play her antique piano every day. It sounded pretty bad, but she said that I had a way of 'putting it back in tune.'"

"So she passed away?"

"Yeah, a few months ago. That's how I got Jean."

"Huh." Levi didn't offer her pity, which Karma appreciated. He was just a warm presence. A comfort. She wouldn't mind being closer to him. Getting swept up in his arms. Sleeping beside him. Curling into the crook of his neck and feeling his heartbeat against her palm.

But he liked being around her. And right now, that was enough.

Looking forward to our date. I've already arranged a cab.

Karma scowled at the text message, wishing her anger could permeate through the phone and strike her former idol in the heart. But such facial expressions creased her makeup, as Sage had taught her, so she cooled her features and checked her reflection.

The nude lipstick and powder blue eyeshadow paired well with the midnight blue gown. It had a lithe silhouette overlaid with sheer, sparkling fabric. It felt wrong to be getting so dolled up for a blackmail date.

"All of this for baldie and bimbo?"

Levi leaned against the bathroom door frame, appraising her. Recently, he had made a habit of alternating hairstyles since Karma once commented that she liked seeing more of his face. Tonight, his hair was gelled behind his ears. His attire was, as always, dapper. She wished she were going on a date with him.

Karma blushed under Levi's appraisal. She still didn't feel like herself in such fine clothes, even after weeks of being Levi Ackerman's fake mistress and gussying up for the press. "I hope it's not too much. Sage told me this place was fancy."

"Where is it?"

"The Blue Heron."

"Never heard of it."

"I'll tell you if it's worth the hype. She won't keep me for too long."

"Better not, cause I've got a surprise for when you get back."

The last time he'd surprised her, a piano was dangling on a crane.

Karma prayed Wickham wouldn't try to pull anything. She wanted to return to Levi with her dress and makeup wholly intact. She felt for the pepper spray in her clutch and headed for the elevators.

In the taxi, Karma touched up her makeup, eager for whatever surprise Levi had in mind. A kiss? An admission of his true feelings? Whatever it was, she would make this date as swift as possible.

The Blue Heron was a rooftop restaurant with string lights that tangled with the stars. She gave her name and a server escorted her to a private table overlooking the city. Wickham Moriano was waiting in a navy suit, and she hated how well it complemented her dress.

"Karma, you're stunning." Wickham stood to pull out her chair, but she deftly beat him to the punch.

"You have one hour." She sipped the ice water. "I take it this is your first blackmail date? It's certainly mine."

Wickham's smile didn't flinch. "I apologize that my tactics weren't very gentlemanly, but I hope you'll give me a fair chance."

"A fair chance at what?"

"Winning you over. I've had my eye on you for a while now."

"Really." Karma was sure to steep her tone with disinterest.

"Since I first heard you play. You ran away from me before I could speak with you."

"Levi broke his leg. I was his caretaker. Didn't have much choice."

"I figured he played some part. Always seems to be the source of my inconveniences."

Karma's brow perked, but she didn't let curiosity outweigh hostility. "How so?"

"Nevermind that. A story for another day."

Two glasses of wine were set on the table. Karma's was a sparkling rosé, Wickham's a bold red.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. I think you'll enjoy the charcuterie appetizer. It'll pair well with that rosé."

Karma gritted her teeth, annoyed that he had guessed her favorite wine. "So you've been wanting to ask me out. What took you so long?"

"Honestly, nerves for the most part. But after you ran out on Levi, I thought I might have a chance."

"So you called me out during class."

"Well, the initial plan was to have you come to me of your own accord. I tried to bait you with that D'latique paper."

"That's why I got a B? And you marked me off for using Calibri?"

Wickham nodded, then winked. "Sorry about that. I'll adjust your grade."

"Thank god." Karma almost laughed, but caught herself. She would not fall victim to Wicked Moron's charms.

Dimples dug into both of his cheeks. "So tell me about your favorite composers. Who inspires you?"

"Well, you used to be one of them." Karma sipped her wine. She remembered sipping wine with Levi at one of their recent dates. They'd traded glasses. Levi hated the carbonation. The memory made her smile. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand enclose hers. She looked up to see Wickham studying her, arm outstretched over the table.

"It would be gratifying if that smile was for me, but you're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Karma frowned, reeling her hand from his grasp.

"I'm sorry, I know this date is upsetting for you. But isn't it better to love and be loved? You could have that with me, Karma."

"Levi loves me." Karma wished she could say it with more confidence. "He just doesn't know how to express it. He's lost everyone important to him. It's hard for him to open his heart up."

"So your romance isn't entirely fabricated."

Karma nodded, studying the sparkles of her gown. "Once upon a time, this date would've been my dream. It's funny how things change so fast."

Wickham's smile wilted. "You truly love him. And you truly detest me."

"Oh please. Hating you and being mad at you are two different things."

Wickham raised his glass. "Then may we both find what we're looking for."

Karma could drink to that.

The charcuterie board was delectable. An assortment of sliced meats and cheeses with jam and nut garnishes. Wickham, the gentleman that he was, insisted Karma have the first bite.

"When did you start playing piano?" he asked as she scooped together a cracker with ricotta cheese whip and boysenberry jam.

"I don't know how old I was. We lived with my grandma and she had a piano in her living room. I just…started playing and never stopped. What about you?"

Wickham looked wistful. "My mother was an excellent pianist. It was her dream that I surpass her. She tried to teach me as a boy, but I never took to it the way she'd hoped. Then she got sick and I decided to make her dream come true, thinking maybe it would make her better."

The cracker was paused halfway to Karma's mouth. "What happened to your mother?"

"Well, she finally reached remission, but fate is coy. Shortly after came The Rumbling. Only one of us made it on the train. Those Scouts weren't fast enough, unfortunately."

"Sounds like you blame the Scouts."

"Maybe I do."

That explained the "inconveniences" comment. Karma started to assemble another cracker. "I got on a train too."

"Perhaps fate isn't always unkind." Wickham raised his glass again. "To New Marley and new beginnings."

Karma hesitated—she was Old Marley scum, after all—then clinked her glass with his.

The evening was spent overlooking the city and conversing in a wine-flavored fog. Wickham was a perfect gentleman, seeing her off with a kiss on the hand. She never even needed the pepper spray, though Karma was wary to raise her opinion of him. Regardless, she was relieved to have the weight of this date off her chest.

No more secrets.

The taxi dropped her off and Karma perked, remembering what Levi had said about a surprise. She willed the elevator to hurry, tapping her fingers on the chrome railing.

"Levi?" Three steps into the living room, she spotted Levi and her body froze.

He was standing next to an upright piano tucked against the living room wall. It looked out of place amongst the modern furnishings with its scuffed pedals and splintering wood panels, but it was more beautiful to Karma than the crystal knobs on the armoire or the gold leaf bookends.

"Is that…Granny Angie's piano?"

She knew it was. She'd played it a thousand times. She knew every sticky key and warbly bass string. But the shock of seeing it again after she had already said her goodbyes was as miraculous as a visit from Granny Angie herself.

Levi's gaze dropped to his cane. "Now you can practice from home. No more late nights."

"How did you—? I mean, I wouldn't even know where to begin—"

"I had Yelena track it down. Wasn't too hard." He gestured to the bench. "Just play. I know you're dying to."

Karma floated onto the creaky wood bench, her gown trailing after her. Nerves fluttered inside her. The midnight blue gown. The glittery makeup. It felt like she was in a concert hall, an eager audience in the peripheral shadows.

Her fingers grazed the chipped keys. "Thank you. This is—"

Words didn't come to her aid. He did this for her. Whether he realized it or not, he cared for her.

Tears blurred the keys.

"Stop crying, dammit." Levi's voice was soft. He sat beside her on the bench and wiped her cheek, smearing the mascara.

"Sorry." Karma sniveled, blotting her waterline until the tears dried. Regrouped, she guided Levi's hand to the upper keys.

He gave her a strange look. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching you." She showed him a simple, three note melody. "Keep playing that."

While he repeated the melody, Karma began the improvised accompaniment.

She had played in grand concert halls on pianos the price of a house, but there was something about the familiar keys beneath her fingers that was comforting. Like nestling up to a childhood stuffed animal.

As the sweet music swelled around them, a thought struck her. The last time she'd played piano in the penthouse, Levi had shut her up, slamming the key cover and narrowly missing her fingers. Now, he sat beside her on the bench, contributing to the noise that disrupted the penthouse's usual peace.

She smiled at the thought as the melody painted a happy scene. A happy future.

Flip flop tan lines contoured their bare feet as they near the shore, Levi's cane carving the warm sand. With a crack, Karma pops open the soda cans. Cold condensation beads their fingertips.

Now, pumpkins glow on the mantelpiece. Spiced cinnamon candles warm their home. In a flame-colored orchard, Levi holds a basket as Karma tiptoes to capture ripe apples. They sample the fruit, feeding each other as the juice drips down their fingers.

Now, the air chills. Her hand slides into Levi's coat pocket. Their fingers lock together. A cozy cabin with a glowing fireplace greets them, a lit evergreen tree in the corner. Levi sweeps loose pine needles. Jean makes wrapping paper confetti.

Now, wildflowers pop along the path to the farmer's market. They sample every jam—raspberry the agreed upon favorite. In the shade, Levi pours sugar on grapefruit halves. The juice dribbles to Karma's wrist.

Their song ended, the final note lingering like the citrus tang on her tongue.

It was surreal. She looked at Levi sitting beside her. The infamous scar. The hint of stubble. The dark hair tucked behind his ears. He was familiar to her now, too. More beautiful for having been broken and just as irreplaceable.

Karma tried to read his expression, but failed. It was one she'd never seen before. Some raw mixture of awe and confusion. Did the music paint the same scenes in his mind? "Did you hate it?" She retracted her hands to her lap and prepared for his candor.

"No." The answer surprised both of them.

"So you liked it."

"I did." Levi stared at the yellowed keys.

"You finally like music." Karma smiled. "You've come a long way. You used to spend all day behind that newspaper in a windowless room. It was sad."

"It was what I wanted, though."

"Some damn peace and quiet?"

Levi nodded.

In the silence, Karma noticed their shoulders were touching. She must have unconsciously scooted closer during their song. The song that evoked scenes of a warm future together. She enjoyed the warmth of his proximity, knowing it was fleeting. Once he noticed, Levi would build up his walls and shuck her off.

But Levi didn't pull away. Instead he looked from their connected shoulders to her. She felt his gaze trickle across the planes of her face from the powder blue eyeshadow and smeared mascara to the nude lipstick. Then she watched his injured hand float toward her, dissolving the small space between them.

"What are you doing?" Karma said as he picked up the braid that draped over her chest. He smoothed his hand down the length of it and let it fall back in place, the end slipping out of his hand like silk. The simple gesture was somehow intimate. It made her feel like a long-awaited desire. Like he'd wanted to do that for a long time.

"Honestly, I'm not sure." Levi caressed her neck. The touch was unexpected, but not unwelcome. His thumb swept across the sensitive skin of her throat, landing on the point of her chin and angling her lips toward him. He leaned closer. Karma could smell his cologne. His hair gel. The traces of familiar laundry detergent. "I don't know what's happening to me." He bent lower. Now their noses were touching. She could count the pores of his skin. See the jagged ridges of his scar. "I just want to be close to you." His breath tapped her lips, hinting at lemon tea.

"Then be close to me," Karma said, heart daring to hope after all of the almost kisses. "Please."

Levi's eyes warred between hers, then he kissed her.

Karma had the sense to close her eyes, but was too stunned to move anything else. Not even her lips. It must've been like kissing concrete. Levi didn't seem to mind, though, because he kissed her for a long, heady moment, pulling her into his chest. The cravat at his collarbone brushed her gown. Karma felt her body melt into a girl-shaped puddle of bliss.

This was all she ever wanted. She wasn't sure when exactly that happened. When did music school become a secondary dream to being his? When he kissed her neck and collarbone in the movie theater? When he shared slop with her at the hospital? The moment he put down that newspaper and she saw his eyes for the first time?

It didn't matter. He was hers now.

After four heartbeats, Levi broke away and she fought the urge to chase his lips. He smiled at her. A genuine, beautiful smile that was not easily won. "Goodnight, Karma." His thumb brushed her cheek once, then he grabbed his cane and disappeared down the hallway.

Karma stared after him, unsure if the pounding in her chest was from shock or lust. Her lips were tingling from the pressure of his. Her cheek fevered from the gentle caress of his thumb.

She imagined a crowd applauding their performance and that grand finale of a kiss, the cheers bouncing around the penthouse. Finally. Finally.

Swathed in her midnight blue gown, Karma accepted the praise.

Then, as gently as a butterfly settling on a rose, she closed the key cover.

It was a peaceful morning until the front door slammed open. To Jean's delight, the surprise sent Karma's breakfast tumbling to the floor. He lapped up the oatmeal, oblivious to the rage in Yelena's face and shaking fist as she swore through the living room.

"Calm down, beardface." Levi plucked the discarded bowl and dropped it in the sink.

"Read." Yelena shoved the Marley Today in his face. He looked at the front page for a long moment. His expression sagged. His eyes turned to Karma. She was suddenly an uninvited stranger.

Cautious, Karma stepped beside Levi to take a look. Under Adalia May's article titled "Karma Goes Around" was an unmistakable picture of her and Wickham Moriano sharing glasses of wine at last night's date. They captured one of the few smiles he'd managed to coax.

Karma strikes! Marley Today readers will be shocked by this photo capturing Old Marley native, Karma Adornato, and tenured professor, Wickham Moriano, on a romantic stint at New Marley's own Blue Heron. Just what will Levi Ackerman think when he finds out his mistress is a—

No. Her gut plummeted.

CHEATER.