Page 42 of The Obedient Lie
He was lounging in the open-plan living space, one leg draped over the side of the couch like he ruled the place, scrolling lazily through a notification stack on his phone.
He didn’t see me at first.
I hesitated for a second, then took a few soft steps toward him.
He heard me.
His head lifted, and for a second, he blinked like he was seeing aghost.
Then, his brows shot up.
“Crowns and collars,” he muttered. “Look what the thunderstorm dragged in.”
I clutched my phone, screen lit with the TimeLock countdown.
00:03:18
I cleared my throat, voice soft. “Hey… I’m sorry, but… can youdo something for me?”
He looked up, skeptical. “Depends. Does it involve throwing someone off a balcony?”
I forced a smile, holding out the phone. “Can you… lodge that I’m here?”
He frowned. “What?”
“My fingerprint won’t go through without a housemate to verify I’m actually in residence. I need someone to press their fingerprint next to mine.”
He stared.
I waited.
Then, slowly — with that signature Crow smirk playing at the corner of his mouth — he reached out and took the phone.
But before he pressed anything, he paused.
“What’s in it for me?”
I blinked.
“Whatever you want,” I said quickly, too desperate to mean anything else. “I’ll owe you.”
He leaned back. “Anything?”
I nodded.
He arched a brow. “I want the breakfast platter.”
I blinked again, confused. “The… what?”
“The one you used to get delivered. You know — those flaky croissants, the mini cinnamon scrolls, the egg soufflé cups with the sun-dried tomato crust? You stopped them.”
I stared at him. “You ate those?”
He gave a low laugh. “Emilia. Everyone in this house ate those. You think they just disappeared into the bin?”
I didn’t know what stunned me more — the fact theylikedthem, or the fact theynoticedwhen they stopped.
“Deal,” I whispered.
