Page 2 of Intrigue

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes like a coward. “You were a childish distraction, Selene.” His words come slowly, almost indifferent, but they land like a knifebetween my ribs. “Something stolen in the dark, never meant to survive the morning. So grow up.”

My breath snags. “Tell me it is not true,” I say, closing the gap until I am right in front of him, close enough to smell her cheap perfume mixing with his sweat. “Tell me you did not just—”

“Stop,” he cuts in, softer than before, but still harsh and tired. “It is over. You need to see that.”

The breath I pull in tastes like iron.

He’s lying. He has to be. This isn’t him. This isn’t the boy who kissed me breathless in the alley behind my father’s estate, who tangled his fingers in my hair and promised me forever. Except maybe forever never belonged to people like us.

I should have seen it from the beginning. But how could I when it felt so good to doubt it. Like my first time, three months ago, with his hands peeling my dress up in this same alley, his mouth hot and desperate on mine, his body pressing me into the brick until I shattered around him, whispering his name like a prayer.

My legs shake now, remembering, and I hate how much I still want him.

Sandro knows that better than anyone.

I push at him, my palms hitting his chest, but he barely moves and just catches my wrists, holding them loosely. “You promised me,” I say, voice shaking as I twist free, heat sparking where his skin brushes mine. “Just last night, right here, you promised we’d leave this behind. Was that just another lie too?”

He lets go and steps back, rubbing his neck. “I say a lot of things I don’t mean. You should not have believed me.”

The girl pipes up. “You didn’t tell me she’d be so delicate, Sandro. Was to be expected, she's just a kid.”

“Back off,” I snap at her, then turn to him. “I almost didn’t believe it. But I heard whispers outside my bedroom, Sandro.One of father’s men said they saw you with someone. I came to confirm, and this is what I get?”

“Fuck, Selene. You want the truth? Fine. I am not your savior. Never was. I said it all to get into your pants and that’s it. You were a good lay, took a while to convince you to give it up but it was worth every second.”

“You are a liar,” I say, louder, stepping back. “Last week, you had me against that gate and said I was your whole world. It didn’t feel like I was just a lay. What happened?”

He flinches, just a twitch, but it is there. “That was then,” he says, quieter. “This is now. I’ve come to my senses.”

My face burns as another memory hits. I still feel him, those nights sneaking out, meeting here, his hands shoving my jeans down, lips bruising my neck, his cock stretching me open as I clung to him, my first, my only.

“We belong together, I don’t care how wrong this is,”he had growled with every hard thrust, kissing me passionately, our bodies slick and pressed tightly.“You and me forever baby, screw what your father thinks.”I had arched into him, desperate and dumb, swallowing every word. Now he stands there with her juices on his fingers and I just feel sick.

“You are full of shit,” I say, voice rising. “A coward who cannot even own it.”

“Call it what you want, I’ve said my piece. Now go.”

The girl has a snide grin on her face. “Yeah, take a hike, sweetie. He is busy now.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” I move to her but Sandro steps between us, hand up.

“Selene,” he says, almost pleading. “Walk away. Please.”

I stumble back, shaking my head. “No.” The word is small, useless against the ruin spreading through my chest. “No, you don’t get to do this. You were my first, Sandro, I trusted you.”

He drags his hand down his face, like I’m exhausting him. Like this, us, everything has been some great burden he’s finally free of. “I already have.”

I move past him, my boots pounding stone as I head for the archway. “You are nothing,” I yell back. “You and her, choke on each other.”

“Hey!” she calls with a laugh. “Do not be a sore loser!”

I keep going, forcing the gate open, metal screeching in my ears. “Fuck you both,” I shout, my voice echoing. My hand shakes when I cut it on a sharp edge, blood dripping from my palm, but I do not stop.

Lies. Every touch, every word, just a game to keep me close. My mother used to warn me about love before she died, about the way it twists through your ribs like a knife, but she never told me it could gut you clean through.

Guess I should have taken her pointers seriously.

I turn on my heel, my steps uneven but moving. Away. As far from this moment as I can get.