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.
