Page 23 of The Idol

This wasn’t how I was supposed to feel. I wasn’t supposed to think about someone like that.

But even as I tried to steady my thoughts, my heart kept drifting toward him like a moth to a flame.

6

Jace

Elior looked like a cherub. Those round cheeks, little heart-shaped lips, big innocent eyes, and blonde hair that glowed in the sun.

It had only been a week since my arrival at the compound, but I was already mostly convinced that he had no idea that his father was a fucked-up, sadistic con-artist. Either he was innocent of his father’s crimes, or he was deserving of an Oscar.

I was betting on option one. Hard.

He didn’t have the posture of a liar or the nervous tells of someone keeping a secret. He was the opposite—so naively open and desperate for conversation.

And fuck if that didn’t do something to me.

Something I knew I probably shouldn’t let it do.

Most of the guys I’d gone home with in the past were the loud ones. Flashy smiles, skin-tight clothes, club lighting gleaming offsweaty, sometimes glittery, skin. They flirted like it was a sport, hands on my waist before I even had my second drink, leaning in with that playful little dare in their eyes.

They were easy. Fun. Disposable, in a way. No strings, no complications. If you asked me for their names, I’d have to laugh.

Elior, on the other hand…

He didn’t even knowhowto flirt, and it was honestly the hottest thing I’d seen in a long time.

Every emotion he had was written right there across his face—poor kid didn’t stand a chance at hiding anything.

Like the way he tried not to look at me during prayers, but always did, and the way his cheeks went pink when I smiled at him. The way his hands fidgeted in his robe sleeves when I asked him a question.

He wasn’t subtle. Not even close.

And I planned to take full advantage of that.

I didn’t feel guilty about it—this was the job. He was the closest thing to a weak point in Malachi’s armor I’d found so far. The Inner Circle was tight, and although they seemed interested in me as a potential future member, I definitely needed much more time to earn their trust.

The rest of the followers weren’t going to give me anything groundbreaking either. Sure, I’d started to grow some surface-level friendships with some of the guys, but most were still either suspicious or scared of me. The women of the Covenant outright ignored me, so that was a no-go. I might glean something useful from the children, but I also didn’t want to gain a reputation for trying to get kids alone. Just no.

So, I’d started taking Elior’s morning walks with him.

At first, he practically jumped out of his skin every time I appeared. Eyes wide, voice small and unsure, glancing aroundlike he expected his father to materialize out of thin air and scold him.

But after a few days, after I kept showing up, kept talking to him like he was a person rather than something to pray to, he started to loosen up.

He told me small things, like which chores he liked and which parts of the fields were the quietest. He told me that he used to like drawing when he was younger, beforeFathersaid it distracted him too much. I also learned that his favorite food was strawberries and that he’d never had any of my favorite candies because they weren’t allowed on the compound.

And the entire time, he’d sneak these little glances at me—quick, fleeting, and almost guilty-looking—like he didn’t think he was allowed to even look at me.

I’d smirk back at him sometimes, just to watch him turn bright red and look away.

Yeah. I was one hundred percent exploiting his crush.

And he was one hundred percent giving me every tool I needed without even knowing it.

But somewhere, buried under my objective, there was a small part of me that liked it—liked him.

Liked the way his steps slowed when he knew I was about to catch up, and the way he said my name like it was a delicate thing he wasn’t used to touching.