Page 36 of Veil of Obsession

My lips twitch, but I don’t smile. “She was never mine.”

Something flickers in her gaze.

There it is. Not satisfaction. Not amusement. Something uglier. Something she doesn’t name.

She hates Dana for it. For trying to claim what was never hers. I don’t think she even realizes how much she detests Dana. Silence settles between us, thick and unspoken. The ball hums behind us, a distant murmur of voices and laughter, but none of it matters. Not out here. Not between us.

I turn to her, exhaling one last breath of smoke. “Princess.”

She freezes. Not just at her name. How I say it. I’m testing it. Testing her. Seeing if it fits the way I think it does. Her lips part slightly, her mask slipping for only a fraction of a second before she smooths it over.

“Have we met before?” I murmur, my voice even, but weighted.

She recovers quickly. Too quickly.

“Of course,” she says smoothly. “Our families run in the same circles.”

I don’t blink. “No. Not like that.”

Her pulse flickers at her throat. A tell. Iknowher. I don’t know from where, not yet, but the feeling itches at me—persistent, insistent.

Does she know?

She tilts her head, feigning confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Liar.

I watch her, searching, letting the silence press against her. She doesn’t waver. She’s good. Controlled. I exhale slowly,flicking the cigarette over the railing, watching the ember fade before it hits the ground.

“Never mind,” I mutter. “Forget I said anything.”

She smiles then—soft, harmless. A fucking lie.

But I don’t let her slip away just yet. Not yet.

“You know…” I murmur, my voice dripping with insinuation, with heat. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you want me.”

She exhales softly, shifting slightly against the railing.

“And what if I do?” she murmurs, voice like silk.

My jaw flexes. She shouldn’t have said that.

I step closer, just enough to let the heat of my body reach her despite the cold. Just enough to make her feel it. I watch the way her breath catches, the way her fingers tighten against the railing, the way her pulse flutters just beneath the delicate skin of her throat.

She likes this. She wants this.

And fuck, I like that she wants it.

“Then that…” I murmur, my voice dropping into something low and dark, possessive. “…would be very, very bad for you, Princess.”

Her gaze flickers, but not in fear. It’s something worse. Something dangerous.

I let my eyes drag over her, slow and deliberate, taking my time because I can. Because she lets me.

Then I meet her gaze again, smirking. “But I bet you like bad things.”

The corners of her lips twitch. She takes a slow step back. A measured retreat. A game.