Being crazy pays.

Maya and Mara were used to Cara's antics. Despite their constant reminders for her to behave, Cara always did the opposite. As she checked her bank account, a smirk spread across her face. Thirty thousand dollars had just landed in her account—money easily squeezed out of her latest victim. Chuckling to herself, she leaned against the bathroom door, her towel loosely wrapped around her still-damp body. Her hair, a tangled mess from a restless night on the couch, stuck to her face as she wiped the fog from the mirror. The events of the previous day played in her mind like a well-rehearsed scene.

**Flashback: The Hospital Visit**

Cara had waltzed into the dim hospital ward like she was walking a runway, her heels clicking against the cold linoleum floor. The occasional beep of machines filled the silence as she approached her target: Jordan Ryder, lying in bed with his arm in a sling and a grimace on his face.

"Hey, dearest!" Cara's voice was sweet and dripping with exaggerated innocence. Jordan's face paled at the sight of her. He squirmed, trying to move away, but a sharp pain shot through his shoulder, stopping him. "Wh-what are you doing here, you crazy girl?" he stuttered, panic evident in his voice.

Cara's smirk deepened as she dragged a chair to his bedside, its legs screeching loudly on the floor. She sat down, crossing her legs nonchalantly. "Just came to see you, darling. And I wanted to apologize—personally," she said, her tone sweet but edged with a dark charm.

"Please, leave! Who the hell allowed you in here?" Jordan's voice rose in fear as he glanced around, hoping for someone to intervene, but they were alone.

Cara laughed, a tinkling sound that carried an unsettling menace. "The nurse, of course. I told her you're my boyfriend, and she let me right in. Sweet of her, wasn't it?" She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it playfully but painfully.

Jordan gasped, his face draining of color as he tried to pull away. "Let go of me…please," he begged, tears welling in his eyes.

Cara tightened her grip, her nails digging into his skin. "You dared touch me with these hands, didn't you?" she whispered, her voice dropping to a tone that sent a shiver down his spine. She watched with satisfaction as the tears spilled from his eyes, each droplet a sweet validation of her power.

"I'm sorry! I won't try it again…just let me go!" Jordan pleaded, his voice breaking under the strain.

Cara's smile twisted into something darker. "Of course, you won't. Because you'll never be able to use your hands once I'm done." She relished the flash of terror that crossed his face. "But," she continued, her tone suddenly light and breezy, "I might let you go if you do something for me."

Jordan nodded frantically, desperate for her to release him. "Will you do it?" Cara asked, raising an eyebrow as if asking him to run a simple errand.

He nodded again, faster, like a bobblehead in a storm.

"Pay my hospital bill and give me thirty thousand for touching me without my permission," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"You're the reason I'm here, and you don't want to pay the bills?" he spat, mustering the tiniest bit of defiance.

Cara's grip tightened further, and Jordan's brief bravery crumbled as he winced in pain. "It's your fault that you're here," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "So, will you do it or not?"

Jordan nodded immediately, his spirit broken. Cara pressed a button on her phone, and a tall, burly man—Jordan's bodyguard—entered the room. Cara winked at him as if they were old friends. Confused but compliant, the bodyguard wired the money on Jordan's orders.

"Now, that's a good boy," Cara said, patting Jordan's hand with mock affection. "Never try what you did again, because next time, you won't be visiting the hospital." She shot him a saccharine smile and sauntered out of the room, leaving Jordan to stare after her in abject fear.

**End of Flashback**

Cara burst into laughter as she leaned against the bathroom sink, her towel slipping slightly. She could still see the look on Jordan's face—pure, unadulterated terror. "Thirty thousand," she murmured, shaking her head as she savored the memory. "Who knew apologies could be so lucrative?"

Setting her phone on the counter, she glanced at her reflection. The woman staring back at her was the same as always—sharp eyes, wry smile, a hint of mischief in the corners of her mouth. She felt no guilt, not even a hint. To her, it was just another win, another twisted victory in a game only she knew how to play.

Cara turned on the shower, letting the hot water steam up the small bathroom. She hummed a playful tune that echoed her upbeat mood, the sound of the water drowning out the rest of the world. Her sisters, Mara and Maya, had already left for work, leaving the apartment quiet and hers to enjoy. She relished the solitude, the freedom to let her thoughts roam without interruption. As the water cascaded over her, she imagined her next move, the next unsuspecting fool who would fall into her web.

Cara's phone buzzed again, faintly audible over the rush of water. She peeked out to see another notification—another payment from Jordan's account, labeled "Thank you for sparing me."

Cara snorted, nearly choking on the steam. "Sparing him? The drama!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the bathroom tiles. "Boy, you're making this too easy."

She finished drying her hair, contemplating what else she could squeeze out of her newfound cash cow. "Maybe I should ask him to get me a job," she mused to herself. "He's the reason I lost mine, anyway."

Maya and Mara would never understand her. Maya, with her steady surgeon's hands, and Mara, with her precise scheduling at the hotel's reception desk, saw life in neat, orderly lines. Cara, on the other hand, saw it in bursts of chaos and opportunity. She pulled on a robe and plopped onto her bed, her phone glowing with the balance of her latest spoils. They might think she was wasting her potential, but Cara knew exactly what she was doing. She had a plan, one that didn't involve toeing the line or playing by anyone else's rules.

She opened her banking app, savoring the sight of the additional funds now resting in her account. It was like a warm reward for her efforts—a reminder that for all her eccentricities, Cara Bennett knew how to get things done.

Maya and Mara could preach about respectable jobs and sensible choices, but Cara had found her own kind of thrill—a high-stakes game where she rewrote the rules. And she wasn't about to let anyone, least of all some rich trembling intern, Jordan Ryder, spoil her fun.

Cara leaned back, her hair dried, fingers tapping idly on her phone as she pondered her next move. The morning was young, and so was she. There were endless possibilities, new games to play, and perhaps another sucker to toy with before the day was out.

"Oh, life is good," she purred, setting her phone aside and letting her eyes drift shut. Cara Bennett was on a roll, and nothing could slow her down. As far as she was concerned, the world was her stage, and everyone else was just another player in her carefully crafted show.

Cara snuggled deeper into her bed, the echo of her laughter filling the room. Today, she would do nothing because she didn't want to. Tomorrow? Who knew. For now, the thrill of yesterday's hospital victory lingered on her memory like a sweet and satisfying sleep, like a well-deserved dessert.