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Same as the information on her file. Was it true? He didn’t know what he would accomplish by asking her these questions. It wasn’t like she could be honest.

“What was it like?”

Her expression took on that softened look people get when they try to recall the past. Was she formulating her lie? He wished he could listen to her thoughts, which required breaking the implant and her mind. He couldn’t do that to her, even if he hadn’t promised her. Her intelligence was part of her attraction, regardless of her past.

“Sad. Poor. We lived in the slums. My parents couldn’t afford housing or food.” A bitter smile twisted her lips. “We had no money. My dad was shot on the way home from work. A mugging.”

There was an old pain there. Oh, she sounded nonchalant, but Julian hadn’t lived a thousand years without knowing how to read people. She wasn’t pretending. Whatever else she was faking, this part was real. She hadn’t had an easy start to life.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his heart aching for the little girl who’d lost her dad.

“It’s okay. He was always so defeated, so beaten when he came home, but at least he put food on the table and a roof over our heads.” When she paused, he didn’t rush her. “A few days later, my mom was gone.” She tried to hide it, to sound normal, but he heard the hitch in her voice. “She was just gone.”

He couldn’t stop himself and covered her hand with his. Her eyes were too bright, and he hated himself for bringing this up. She’d been adopted, which had come up in her background check. If he’d known how the past had hurt her, he wouldn’t have pushed her.

She pulled her hand away and took a sip of her drink. Julian leaned back in his seat and gently swirled the glass of blood wine, its coppery and metallic scent doing little to distract him from Leah.

“What about your wealthy uncle? He didn’t help?”

Leah’s eyes flickered, and she cleared her throat. So that part was a lie, then. “He didn’t come into money until later, after I’d already left home.”

Good recovery.

“You must have worked hard. To have gone to Brown and then to Stanford.”

She held his gaze. “Yes. It wasn’t easy, but important things in life never are. I’m sure you understand.”

Her simple words and straight gaze tugged at a part of him he didn’t even know was there. Her warmth and light seeped through the cracks forming in his wall. His soul felt within reach. It was he who had to look away.

The waiter brought their food. Julian used the distraction to compose himself.

Who was she to rattle him?

Once the waiter retreated, his equilibrium was back.

“I do, but do you, truly? If you live to be a thousand, you’ll find a lot of things in life are harder than a poor childhood and graduating from university,” he said, keeping his tone light.

She narrowed her eyes, shooting him a glare. Her hand tightened around her fork. Yes, he much preferred her fury over sorrow.

When she spoke again, her voice was as frigid as the Arctic he’d had the displeasure of visiting once. “Since I won’t live to be a thousand, I guess I’ll nevertrulyunderstand how hard life is.”

Leah refrained from stabbing her fork into her food. That would be bad manners. No, what would be bad manners would be to stab her host in his dead heart. It shouldn’t bother her for him to make light of her past. She should’ve made something up, but somehow, she’d revealed more than she wished.

Why had she thought that was a good idea? It served her right that he didn’t take her seriously. How could her short life compare to his? He’d probably done things beyond her wildest imagination. A part of her was envious. What would it be like to have that sort of autonomy and control over one’s life?

Her life was a lie. Her skin itched to sit there while he asked her personal questions. Pretending to be that person weighed on her, even if she had practiced her story hundreds of times.

She’d just hoped that the one truth she allowed through would…

What?

Get a better reaction?

“Leah.”

She looked up when he whispered her name in that dark and seductive tone that made her nerves tingle. Exhaustion bit into her bones. She’d been working overtime to prepare for the Gathering. Dmitri had been badgering her about their deal. Now that she was with Julian, she didn’t have the energy to deal with him. She needed a break before she could continue to pretend to be the person on her résumé.

Picking at her food, she asked, “Is there something else you’d like to know? You don’t have enough files on me?”