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“I’m not yours,” she hisses.

The lie hangs between us, transparent as glass. I can read her body like my mind—the way her pulse flutters at her throat, the slight parting of her lips, the almost imperceptible press of her thighs together.

“Aren’t you?” I shift forward, claiming more space. “Then why are you wet right now?”

Color floods her cheeks, beautiful and telling. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I? Prove it.” I lower my voice to that register that makes her shiver. “Uncross your legs, Aria. Show me how unaffected you are.”

Her hands tighten around her glass, knuckles white with strain. “Go to hell.”

“I’ve been there. It looks remarkably like watching you walk away from me.” I signal the waitress for a drink, never taking my eyes off Aria’s face.

“Tell me something, love. After I left the other night, what did you do?”

“Went to sleep.”

“Liar.” The scotch arrives, and I take a slow sip, watching her over the rim.

I lean over the table, my breath warm against her ear. “Did you touch yourself, Aria?”

She stills.

“Did you slide those thin little fingers between your thighs, moaning my name into the dark, pretending I was the one making you come?” I whisper, close enough to feel her inhale. “Did you miss how deep I fucked you until you screamed my name?”

She turns her face slowly, eyes a war zone. But her cheeks are flushed red, telling a different story. “Get out of my face, Marco.”

I smile.

That’s not nice.

“Say you didn’t think about me. Say you didn’t picture my cock stretching you while you played with that tight little pussy.”

Her breath hitches. Her thighs shift. Bingo.

“You don’t own me,” she says, but her voice is breathy.

“No? Then why do you still clench when I speak? Tell me, did you miss how thick my fingers were? How they filled you up, curved just right to hit that spot that makes you scream my name?” I let my voice drop to a whisper, intimate as a caress.

“Stop!” she whimpers. Her hand flies up—maybe to slap me again, maybe to push me away. I catch it mid-air, wrap her wrist in my palm.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” I murmur, dragging her hand down my chest, letting her feel exactly how hard I am. “But your body remembers.”

She jerks away, standing like she needs distance, but I step into it. Corner her against the velvet and lean in.

“Next time, I won’t just whisper in your ear. I’ll fuck the fight right out of you. And you’ll thank me for it.”

She’s breathless. Shaking. Wanting.

And she knows it.

“Oh, and one more thing.” I lean closer, until our faces are inches apart. “You want to play war, Aria? Fine. But when it all crashes down—your army, your pride, your lies—you’ll remember exactly who you were running from… and who you were always running back to.”

Fire blazes in her eyes. “I belong to no one.”

I let my gaze drop to her lips, then lower, to the exposed skin of her throat. “Every breath you take, every beat of your heart, every gasp when you come—it’s all mine.”

“You’re insane.”