"Tonight?"
The word still sat wrong on my tongue.
I stared at my reflection for the third time in ten minutes, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Why do you look like you're about to go to war?" Kiara's voice came from behind me, amused… and way too observant.
I didn't turn. "Because I might be."
She snorted, walking closer until she stood beside me, her eyes scanning my face through the mirror. "Please. You only look like this when it's not war."
I arched a brow. "Oh?"
"It's worse," she said, smirking slightly. "It's a man."
I finally looked at her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"You're dramatic."
"And you're avoiding the question."
Kiara leaned against the dresser, folding her arms. "So? Who is he?"
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then—"Zane Genovese."
That wiped the smirk right off her face.
"…You're kidding."
"I wish I was."
A silence stretched between us, heavier now.
Kiara straightened. "Luna… that's not just some guy."
"I know who he is."
"Do you?" she pressed. "Because men like him don't just… flirt and leave. They take. They control. They—"
"I said I know," I cut in, sharper than I intended.
She stopped.
Watched me.
And then her expression softened, just a little. "Then why do you look like you're about to walk straight into it?"
Because I am.
The answer stayed in my head.
Unspoken.
Instead, I turned back to the mirror, picking up an earring just to have something to do with my hands.
"I don't have a choice," I said more quietly.
Kiara's gaze didn't leave me. "Adrian."
Of course.
Everything always came back to him.
My brother. My protector. My problem.
After the accident… after losing them—
Everything changed.
Our mother. His father.
Gone in a single night.
And just like that, the world became smaller.
Colder.
More dangerous.
So I moved in with Adrian.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I had to.
"Whatever this is," Kiara said carefully, "it's not just business, is it?"
I met her eyes in the mirror.
No.
It wasn't.
And that was the problem.
—
By the time I arrived, the building was already alive.
Lights. Music. Voices.
Too polished to be called a party.
Too tense to be anything else.
I stepped inside without hesitation, heels steady, posture perfect.
Control.
Always control.
But the moment I crossed the threshold—
I felt it.
That shift.
Like something had just… locked into place.
My eyes moved instinctively across the room.
Searching.
And then—
There he was.
Zane.
Standing near the far end, surrounded by men who looked powerful enough to run countries… yet somehow still orbiting around him.
Like he was the center.
Like he always was.
My breath caught.
Just for a second.
He looked up.
Like he felt it.
Like he knew.
And then our eyes met.
God.
That was a mistake.
Because suddenly, the noise faded.
The room blurred.
And it was just—
Him.
Watching me.
Not surprised.
Not curious.
Certain.
A slow, almost dangerous smile touched his lips.
Like he'd been expecting this.
Like tonight was already his.
I forced my expression to stay neutral, even as something unfamiliar curled low in my chest.
Annoyance.
Attraction.
Something worse.
I started walking toward him.
Every step deliberate.
Every movement controlled.
But inside—
Messy.
Too messy.
"You came."
His voice was low when I reached him.
Too close.
Too aware.
I held his gaze. "I didn't realize I had a choice."
"You always have a choice," he said.
"No," I replied softly. "Not when my brother is involved."
Something flickered in his eyes at that.
Interest.
Understanding.
Danger.
"Adrian has… good taste in arrangements," he said.
I almost laughed. "That's one way to put it."
Silence stretched between us for a moment.
But it wasn't empty.
It was full.
Too full.
My pulse picked up slightly as I became aware of how close he was standing.
Not touching.
Not quite.
But close enough that I could feel the heat of him.
The memory of last night flashed through my mind—
His hand at my waist.
His breath against my skin.
That moment—
I stepped back.
Just slightly.
Creating space.
Needing it.
His eyes dropped to the movement.
Noting it.
Of course he did.
"Still pretending?" he murmured.
My jaw tightened. "I'm not pretending anything."
A lie.
Again.
His gaze lifted back to mine, slower this time.
More deliberate.
"Then why'd you step back?"
Because if I didn't, I wouldn't.
I swallowed that answer down.
Hard.
"Because I can," I said instead.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Sure."
God, he was infuriating.
"And you?" I shot back. "Do you always enjoy making assumptions, or is it just with me?"
"Just you," he said easily.
That shouldn't have affected me.
It did.
I hated that it did.
"You're very confident," I said coolly.
"I'm very right."
I exhaled slowly, forcing my heartbeat to steady. "About what?"
He leaned in slightly.
Not enough to touch.
Enough to ruin my focus.
"About the fact that," he said quietly, "you're thinking about last night just as much as I am."
My breath hitched.
There it was.
That crack.
That slip.
And he saw it.
Of course he did.
I forced a smile—sharp, controlled. "You're overestimating your impact."
His eyes darkened slightly.
Not offended.
Interested.
More interested.
"Am I?" he murmured.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Didn't speak.
Just stood there—
Too close.
Too aware.
Too much.
And then—
"Luna."
Adrian's voice cut through everything like a blade.
I stepped back instantly.
Control snapping back into place like it had never left.
Almost.
I turned, meeting my brother's gaze as he approached.
Calm.
Composed.
Dangerous.
Always dangerous.
"Adrian," I said evenly.
His eyes flicked briefly to Zane, then back to me.
Calculating.
Always calculating.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.
"Immensely."
Another lie.
Zane didn't speak.
Didn't move.
But I could feel him there.
Behind me.
Still watching.
Still… present.
And somehow—
That felt more dangerous than anything Adrian could do.
Because Adrian controlled my world.
But Zane?
He disrupted it.
And standing there between them—
I realized something I wasn't ready to admit.
This wasn't just a meeting.
Wasn't just an arrangement.
Wasn't even just a game.
It was something else.
Something sharper.
Messier.
And far more dangerous.
Because for the first time in a long time—
I wasn't entirely in control anymore.