Page 102 of Money Reigns
Her eyes flick to mine. “And…how?”
I let a beat pass.
Take in her honest eyes.
And then I answer.
“When I want something,” I say slowly, deliberately, “I make it my business to know everything about it.”
Her breath hitches. Just barely. But I catch it.
Everything about her, the freckles on her nose, the smudge of lipstick on her wine glass, the way she crosses her ankles under the table like she’s trying to ground herself, every bit of her is cataloged in my mind.
I don’t say all that out loud.
I just watch as she looks away again, cheeks flushing pink.
Good.
Let her wonder how much more I know.
Because she’s right.
It’s not a coincidence.
It’s obsession.
“Eat,” I say taking a sip of my wine.
She swallows hard and takes a breath before she complies.
We eat. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s taut, charged, the kind that makes every scrape of silverware on porcelain feel like a gunshot.
Finally, she breaks it.
“It’s still strange, and Ineedto talk about it,” she says slowly, “you know so much about me, but I don’t even know your favorite color.”
I set my fork down, lean back, and let her think she’s gotten the upper hand.
“It’s the exact shade of your eyes.”
Her breath catches. She blinks at me, stunned.
“And yours,” I continue smoothly, “is mint green.”
Her lips part. “How do you—”
“Like I said,” I interrupt, voice low, measured, “when I want something, I notice everything.”
Her fingers knot the napkin in her lap, her eyes searching my face. She doesn’t even realize I’m feeding her breadcrumbs, leading her exactly where I want her.
Askme.
Ask me what you really want to know.
She straightens and meets my gaze.
“You left the dress in a box on my bed,” she says finally, eyes sharpening, “How?”
