Page 37 of A Smile Full of Lies (Secrets of Stonewood #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Six

KNOX

I sat at the end of the conference table in a beige Mobile office that smelled faintly of old coffee and copy paper, while a junior associate droned about some updated clause in a cyber liability contract. He thought he was being thorough. All I heard was static.

Because I already knew how I was going to break her.

I’d read her confession before I left the house. Every line burned into me like scripture, carved into my bloodstream, branded behind my eyes. I didn’t need to check my phone. Didn’t need a reminder. I carried her words like a live fucking wire under my skin.

I choose him. Come what may.

God, I wanted to laugh in this kid’s face. Wanted to grab the sheaf of papers he was waving around and shred them just to see him stammer. None of this shit mattered. Not when Ros had handed me her soul with both trembling hands.

And she thought she gave it to a stranger.

I kept my face impassive, nodding like I was listening, while my grip on the edge of the table tightened until the wood creaked. The kid’s voice blurred into a low hum, like an air conditioner about to fail.

Timing. Control. Strategy. That’s what mattered now.

I could’ve stormed into that kitchen this morning and demanded everything — stripped her down, body and truth both, until she was raw and gasping and mine. But a man who wins doesn’t tip the board when he’s already ahead. He plays his hand slow. Measured. Calculated.

I let my gaze flick to the clock. The second hand stuttered forward, and I decided I was done pretending to give a shit about risk assessments and liability clauses.

I pushed back my chair, smooth and deliberate, and the junior’s voice faltered mid-sentence.

“Uh — sir?”

“Urgent security breach,” I murmured, already standing. “Handle the rest.”

I didn’t wait for a reply.

The conference room door shut behind me with a soft click. Silence, clean and sharp, wrapped around me in the hallway.

Finally.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and rolled my shoulders once, loosening the tension. Then I headed for the stairwell, phone already heavy in my hand.

Not because I needed it to tell me anything new.

Because I was ready to start using it as a weapon.

The stairwell was dim and cool, cinderblock walls swallowing the echo of my footsteps.

I stopped halfway down, leaning against the railing, phone already in my hand.

Not because I needed it. I’d memorized every word before I even left the house.

But pulling them up again was like dragging a blade across my palm — painful, deliberate, grounding.

Her name glared at me from the top of the thread: @MidnightRose .

I scrolled slow, like I hadn’t already carved these sentences into my ribcage.

You win, okay? You win. I came for you. I wanted it. I got off on it. But it’s done.

I have feelings for Knox. Real ones.

My chest tightened. My cock twitched. Every part of me wanted to slam the phone shut, march out of this building, and go take what she’d already given. Rip the truth straight from her mouth while her body shook apart under me.

But that wasn’t how a man like me won a game like the one Ros and I had been playing for the last seven years.

That was how you lost.

So I stayed still. I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to let the hunger coil tighter instead of burning itself out.

This wasn’t about me getting what I wanted, in the moment. It was about me showing her she’d already handed it over. That there was no safety net, no mask, no distance between her and the monster she thought she’d been confessing to.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, dragging in a sharp breath that tasted like concrete dust and control.

I reminded myself I was playing chess, not checkers.

I wasn’t going to let her words live in the dark, tucked away in some encrypted cache like a secret diary. No. I was going to bring them into the light. Make her own them. Make her say them again — with my eyes on hers, my hands on her, no way to hide.

I thumbed the screen dark, slid the phone back into my pocket, and straightened.

Timing.

Control.

Every good move starts with a lie so clean it feels like truth.

I already knew which one I was going to tell her.

The concrete smelled damp when I pushed through the stairwell door into the parking deck. My footsteps echoed sharp against the painted lines as I pulled my phone back out.

I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t give myself the luxury of second-guessing. My thumb slid across her contact and lifted the phone to my ear.

One ring. Two.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, tentative. Like she already knew the ground was about to shift under her feet.

I let a beat stretch, calibrating my tone. Then I dropped it — calm, even, almost bored.

“Hey. Something just landed in my inbox.”

Her breath hitched and she made a soft choking sound for a second before she spoke.

“What was it?”

“It was a pretty long email from Nox Obscura, one of the guys who was a performer at The Hollowing. There were DMs between you two, and a transcript of a phone call between you, and a security video clip of you when you were waiting to get in and those girls were talking about me, and then there were the messages you sent Nox Obscura this morning,” I added, letting the name linger, casual as a blade pressed against skin.

“He thought I’d find it interesting, but it seems to me like you really pissed this guy off when you told him you were choosing me over him after whatever happened between you two during The Hollowing. ”

The silence on the line wasn’t silence at all. I could hear it — the way her throat closed, the tiny scrape of air as she tried to swallow down panic. My chest tightened, hunger and fury curling together in a knot just under my sternum.

“I — I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” she blurted, words spilling fast, shaky. “I thought it would stay between me and him. I didn’t know he’d really tell you—” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Knox.”

Christ. That voice. That apology. Like I was the one she’d betrayed instead of the one holding every card.

I kept my own voice low, level.

“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.”

She sucked in a sharp breath like she hadn’t expected mercy.

“No?”

“I’m curious,” I said, slicing the word clean, deliberate.

Her silence was worse than panic. It was waiting. Hoping.

Good. Let her stew in it. Let her feel the weight of what she’d written, what she thought she’d given to a stranger when it was always me.

“Curious about what?”

“Mostly why you let things play out this way. You could’ve told me yourself,” I added quietly. “Instead of letting him send those things to me.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I should’ve. I just — I didn’t know how.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring it. Her shame, her rawness, the way she’d cracked open without me even raising my voice.

Perfect.

“I’m coming home, Ros. I think we should probably talk about this face-to-face. That phone call between you two was really fucked up. I read every word.”

“Knox—”

I pulled the phone from my ear and ended the call, without another word.

Let her sit with that silence. Let it gnaw at her until I walked through the door.

The second I ended the call, I was moving.

The deck’s concrete swallowed the sound of my shoes as I cut across the painted lines, keys in hand, chest wound tight. By the time I slid into the driver’s seat, my pulse was a steady roar in my ears.

I didn’t turn on music. Didn’t need it.

I had her voice replaying in my head on a loop — panicked, apologetic, small.

I didn’t mean for you to find out like this… I’m sorry, Knox.

Christ. That apology was a fucking drug. Like she thought I was the one wronged. Like she didn’t realize I’d been holding the knife the whole time.

I started the truck, slammed it into gear, and peeled out of the deck. The tires squealed against the ramp, echo chasing me into daylight.

He thought I’d find it interesting, but it seems like you really pissed this guy off when you told him you were choosing me.

Her silence after that? Gold. I could still taste it.

Traffic blurred around me as I pushed ten, fifteen miles over the limit. White lines streaked past in my periphery, wind tearing through the open window, but none of it cooled the fever under my skin.

I gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles blanching.

I choose him. Come what may.

She thought she’d whispered that to the dark. To a mask. She didn’t know she’d handed it to me. Philip Knox. Her neighbor. The man who’d been circling her for years.

And now she was cornered.

I wanted to rip straight through the red lights, take every shortcut in the city just to get to her faster. My body ached for it — cock straining against my zipper, chest tight with the need to see her face when I laid it out.

But I forced myself to throttle back. Not speed — control.

This wasn’t about fucking her against the kitchen counter until she sobbed my name. Not yet.

This was about the look in her eyes when I made her own every word. About closing the gap between the fantasy she thought she could hide in and the reality she couldn’t run from anymore.

I flexed my fingers against the wheel, let the silence stretch, and smiled to myself.

Ros thought she was afraid of what Nox Obscura could do with her secrets.

She hadn’t seen what I could do yet.

When I got home, she was right where I knew she’d be.

Perched at the island, legs folded beneath her like she’d tried to curl into herself. Phone clutched so tight her knuckles blanched. Hoodie sleeves shoved over her fists like she was bracing for impact.

She didn’t look up when I walked in. Didn’t have to. The way her shoulders stiffened told me she felt it — the shift in the air the second I crossed the threshold.

I set my keys on the counter with a deliberate clink, unbuttoned my cuffs, rolled them back slow. Gave her the show of a man calm, collected, in control.

Then I leaned against the opposite counter, hands braced, eyes on her.