Page 23 of A Smile Full of Lies (Secrets of Stonewood #1)
Chapter
Sixteen
KNOX
I saw it happen in real-time through the security camera feed on the lines outside.
Ros’s mouth curled into a sharp, dark smile as she met the blonde’s gaze. That dangerous little smirk that twisted through my chest like electrified barbed wire.
“…Knox is my neighbor.”
My cock hardened instantly. She said it so casually. So fucking possessively.
I know him intimately, as a matter of fact, she’d added.
My knuckles flexed beneath the weight of the leather gloves, the sharp creak of the console beneath my hands cutting through the low hum of the security feed.
I heard the blonde’s sharp inhale through my earpiece. Saw her lips part in a stunned little oh on the monitor. The sheer envy etched across her face sent a dark bolt of satisfaction through my chest.
Ros didn’t see it, but I did. She didn’t even realize what she’d done… how hard she’d just staked her fucking claim on me.
Her body language was calm — shoulders relaxed, weight balanced on the balls of her feet — but that sharp note beneath her voice? That was possession. That was Ros digging her claws into me and sinking deep.
And the kicker?
She thought I couldn’t see her. She thought I couldn’t hear her. But I was watching. I was always watching.
The dangerous little smirk that curled across her mouth when she told that blonde to fuck all the way off with her eyes alone? That was all for me.
And the fact that she’d never admit that to my face? That was fucking everything.
My cock pressed hard against the zipper of my pants, heat flashing beneath my skin as Ros turned toward the mansion’s door. Her chest rose and fell beneath the thin cotton of her hoodie. She was flushed — still rattled from that Nox Obscura video — but she was trying to cover it.
Trying being the operative word, because Ros couldn’t hide from me. Not anymore.
A low growl scraped the back of my throat.
I could feel my pulse hammering beneath my skin as I leaned toward the monitor. My finger slid across the touch panel. A low vibration buzzed beneath my palm as the program responded instantly.
The security feed split — sixteen different angles cutting across the screen in crisp, high-resolution detail.
The east hall. The grand staircase. The front entrance.
The emergency exit. And her, my Ros, standing in line, waiting to be let into the entrance hall, instinctively distancing herself from the groupies.
Mine.
God, she was going to make it so easy. I’d paid Silverface, another MaskTok content creator with a following almost as big as mine, a hefty chunk of change under the table to make sure Ros got cut off from everyone else and shuffled into the entrance to the wine cellar once she was inside.
My mouth stretched into a satisfied smile beneath the mask.
I heard the bitter note of envy in the blonde’s voice.
“If she knows what Philip Knox smells like,” the blonde said, her tone pitched just loud enough to carry, “I wonder what else she knows about the guy that other people don’t.”
A sharp pulse of dark heat cut through my chest.
Ros didn’t flinch. Her mouth curved, slow and dangerous. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze sharp and lethal.
“Wouldn’t you just love to know, sweetheart?”
Fucking hell.
My cock throbbed. A low growl rumbled out of my chest as I leaned toward the console. My hand tightened under the leather of my glove.
Enough foreplay. Time to make my move. I flicked my finger over the touch panel.
A low mechanical sound hummed through the speakers as the entrance doors clicked open. That was Silverface’s cue to start searching for Ros and find a way to isolate her from the rest of the group.
Ros’s head snapped toward the sound. Her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat.
Good girl.
The rude, thirsty blonde grabbed her friend’s hand.
“Come on,” she hissed. The girls surged forward through the doors, stepping around Ros, eager to get inside first.
Ros hesitated. Her gaze sharpened as she stared toward the dark hall ahead of her.
“You’re running,” I said, my voice low and distorted through the hidden speaker.
Ros stiffened. Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened as the low, mechanical buzz echoed through the corridor. Next came the blinding flash intended to disorient everyone.
Silverface moved, his gaze trained on Ros while everyone shielded their eyes from the blinding flash that lit up the room. She’d already started backing away from the rest of the group, and turned, trying to get her bearings.
Silverface saw his opening and took it, shoving her through the entrance to the wine cellar. A sharp clang of metal followed, making everyone’s heads jerk toward the hall opposite the wine cellar’s entrance.
Silverface tugged the heavy oak door behind Ros shut and locked it, cutting her off from everyone else, just like we’d agreed.
He turned back toward the fans huddled in the entrance hall and lunged, sending them scattering in all different directions, routing them toward the other masked creators I’d hired to make the haunted house a success while I played out my private hunt with Ros.
Her pulse hammered visibly beneath her skin; I could see the vein jumping at the base of her throat clearly through my security feed.
She lunged toward the door right as Silverface closed and locked it behind her. Ros’s hands shot toward the wood, banging on it. Panicked, she tugged at the handle but it didn’t budge.
“Fuck.”
My little princess was trapped.
Perfect.
Ros spun toward the dark stairs. Purple light flickered across the stone floor of the wine cellar below, faint and uneven.
“Hello?” she called.
Her voice was too sharp, her breathing too fast.
I leaned toward the console, my gloved hand sliding beneath the mic control.
“You can’t outrun me,” I growled through the hidden speaker.
Her breath hitched.
The dark wine cellar stretched in front of her. Its shadows carved long, narrow shapes across the high stone walls.
My chest tightened as she took a tentative step forward. Her fingers brushed the cold edge of the wall and her hand curled into a fist.
She was scared. She was excited. And I was the reason why.
I adjusted the controls. The low sound of boots scraping across concrete filled the hall. Ros’s eyes widened. Her pulse hammered at the base of her throat.
She turned toward the sound.
Another sound — faint and sharp — echoed through the speakers. The sound of breathing… my breathing.
I glanced at the tech I’d nudged out of my way when Silverface culled Ros from the rest of the herd of fans.
“You know what to do,” I murmured so only he could hear me. “I’ve got a fan experience to see to.”
The tech nodded and I slipped out of the control room and into the wine cellar, crouching behind one of the racks filled with my parents’ wine collection, waiting for her to get ahead of me.
Go on, baby. Take the bait.
Her gaze sharpened as she squinted into the darkness and her lips parted on a shaky inhale. She pressed her back to the wall as she eased the rest of the way down the stairs, her hand flexing against the stone.
I tracked the tension beneath her skin, the rise and fall of her chest beneath the soft cotton of her hoodie.
She knew she wasn’t alone, but she didn’t know who was hunting her. Not yet.
Ros pushed away from the wall and took another step deeper into the wine cellar. Her footsteps echoed sharply beneath the high ceilings.
I pulled a small pebble out of my pocket and tossed it toward the far corner of the room. It clattered against the stone wall and her head jerked in that direction.
It was time.
I slipped out of my hiding place and snuck over to the base of the stairs she’d just walked down, cutting off her retreat. Then I purposely scuffed my boot against the stone floor.
Ros’s breath hitched as she whirled toward the sound.
Her mouth opened on a strangled scream.
The lights cut out, plunging us into near-complete blackness.
The noises she made surged in my ears, her breaths going sharp and uneven.
“Shit,” she whimpered.
I grinned behind my mask, reaching up and flipping the switch to turn on the battery powered purple neon face.
“Run for me sweetheart,” I crooned.