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Sienna’s breathing hard, eyes glassy. She backs into the wall like it might save her.

“You said it yourself,” I remind her, voice low. “You’re always around us. You wanted the attention. Now you have it.”

Eli watches her too. Not moving. Not speaking. But not stopping me either.

The lake house is quiet again.

Only the sound of cards hitting the table.

Only the sound of her shallow breaths.

And the game has just begun.

Chapter 22

I lean back on the armrest of the couch and watch her. She won’t meet my eyes. She is obviously still pissed off about the tattoo.

Then her voice cuts through the silence.

“I want a rematch.”

The edge in it makes me pause. She’s standing now, arms crossed, face red from cold and fury.

Caleb tilts his head and says, “Excuse me?”

She doesn’t blink. “The game. That wasn’t fair.”

I snort. “I lost. That’s what happened.”

Her chin lifts. “Because I didn’t play.”

Caleb hums in amusement from the kitchen, flipping the steak. “Didn’t realize this was a democracy.”

She ignores him. Her focus is on me. Sharp and unwavering.

“I want a chance to win something.”

I set my elbow on the back of the couch, resting my cheek against my fist. “You really think we’re going to let you rewrite the terms?”

“I didn’t agree to those terms,” she snaps. “You two just made them up, and I want a fucking say.”

I raise my brows. “You don’t get to cry foul when your throat’s already in someone’s teeth.”

She flinches but she doesn’t back down. “Then let me earn something.”

I sit up. “Beg.”

She blinks. “What?”

I pat my thigh. “Crawl over here. Beg for it.”

Caleb whistles low behind me.

She doesn’t move.

“You want it to be me? If you want me and him to rematch,” I say, eyes locked on her. “Then earn it. Crawl. Beg. Cry. I want to see you drop that pride.”

Her mouth opens, then shuts again. She looks down at her feet, then back up. Her jaw trembles — not from fear. From rage.