Page 72 of The Obedient Lie

Like I wasn’ttremblingwith something I couldn’t name.

“You always listen that well?” Luca asked, voice velvet-dark.

I couldn’t speak. Not yet.

But I nodded.

God help me,I nodded.

Bastion reached for his glass. “You want a drink?”

I didn’t answer right away.

Maybe it was the way he asked. Like he alreadyknewthe answer. Or maybe it was the way both of them looked at me—quiet and watchful. Like I was something they were still trying to figure out how tobreak without shattering.

I gave a small shrug, brushing my fingers over my knee.

“Or don’t dynasty daughters drink unless it’s for show?” Bastion smirked.

Luca’s brow lifted slightly.

I took a bite of pizza, chewed slowly, then said around it, “Not really.”

Pause.

Then, almost casually, I added, “But we do cocaine.”

Silence.

For a second, both of them juststaredat me.

Only to laugh.

Rough, startled, deep-throated,chuckling.

Luca looked down at his glass, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit,” he muttered.

I didn’t laugh.

Instead, I leaned forward, pushed one of the ornate trays on the coffee table slightly off-center, then reached beneath it—sliding free a slim, matte-black baggie I’d stashed there weeks ago.

Back when they’d come home early and I hadn’t had time to hide it properly.

I set it on the table between us like it was nothing more than a tube of lip balm.

Bastion straightened. Luca stilled.

“You’re not serious,” Luca said, voice lower now.Not amused. Just watching.

I shrugged, opening the top of the bag with a familiar flick of my nail. “I didn’t say I liked it,” I said, almost bored. “I saidwedo it.”

Their eyes tracked every movement. My hand dipping into the pouch. The tiny shimmer of the powder inside. The ease with which I laid it out.

Unbothered. Clean.

Like routine.

I didn’t bother explaining—not really. Just kept my voice even as I reached for a tray card to chop.