Page 37 of His Drama Queen

Cornered. Claimed. Collared by genetics.

But not beaten.

If biology is their weapon, then biology can be mine.

I stand. Walk to the closet with purpose.

Past the expensive dresses. Past the lingerie. Past designer jeans and silk blouses and cashmere sweaters. All chosen by Dorian. All meant to dress me like a doll.

Then I find the athletic section. A few swimsuits. Workout clothes.

Tiny athletic shorts in black. A sports bra-style top.

I pull them out. Hold them up to the light.

This is tactical. Strategic deployment of assets. They want to play the biology card? Fine.

Let's see how they handle it when biology works against them.

I change quickly. Before I can second-guess. The shorts are obscene—high-cut, showing miles of leg. The top clings in ways that leave nothing to imagination.

But it's not lingerie. It's athletic wear. Perfectly reasonable for swimming on a hot June afternoon.

The fact that my scent will intensify with heat and water? That's just biology.

The same biology they keep throwing in my face.

I look at myself in the mirror.

Still me. Still furious. But something else too.

Strategic.

If they want to claim we're fated mates driven by genetic destiny, fine. If they want to say biology is everything, fine.

But biology cuts both ways.

And I'm going to make them suffer.

twelve

Vespera

ThemirrorshowssomeoneI barely recognize.

Bare legs. Exposed stomach. The sports bra cutting low enough to hint at cleavage without crossing into obvious territory. My hair still damp from the shower, pulled high to expose my neck.

My hands shake as I adjust the strap. Once. Twice. Three times before I realize I'm stalling.

This is armor. War paint. A weapon disguised as normalcy.

I'm just going swimming. Perfectly reasonable on a hot June afternoon at a lake house.

The fact that heat and water amplify pheromones? That's their biology lesson coming back to bite them.

I reach for a different outfit. Something safer. My hand hovers over the drawer.

If I'm trapped here, if escape isn't possible and death by rejection is the only alternative, then I'm taking back the one thing I can control.