Slowly, I turn. And there he is.
Knox stands paces away, a storm in human form, draining the air from the room.
His Grim-Reaper-black suit hangs off his body like a shroud of darkness, and his eyes bore into Chad like a warning.
“Knox…” My voice sounds too small. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he says evenly, but the muscle ticking in his jaw betrays his calm. His gaze flicks from me to Chad, then back again. “Thought you’d be at home at this hour, but I didn’t realize we were entertaining guests. Who’s your friend?”
Oh Lord.
I straighten, trying for composure. “This is Chad Holloway. An old friend. We were just catching up.”
Knox’s eyes narrow with the slyness of a fox, and he leans forward, resting a hand on the back of the booth. “Catching up?”
“Yes, we haven’t seen each other in years,” Chad fills in, still looking confused when he looks back at me. “Who’s this, Isla?”
“Knox Vale. Her fiancé.” Knox closes the distance, his tone leaving no room for debate.
My stomach tightens like someone shoved a vice around it. I can’t believe he just said that.
Fiancé.
We haven’t even announced it yet. Only a handful of people know.
Yes, I was going to tell Chad I was getting married, but not like this.
Chad blinks at Knox, the color draining from his face. His expression holds a mixture of shock and recognition. I’m sure he’s heard of Knox—everyone has. He also knows Dad used to work for the Vales.
“Knox Vale,” he says slowly, the words sounding more like realization than question. “Andfiancé?”
“Yes, fiancé.”
Chad forces a small, stiff smile and looks at me again. “You never mentioned you were getting married.”
“I was going to.”
His gaze flicks down to my left hand, which is bare of any evidence to prove I’m engaged. “You don’t have a ring.”
“It’s being made in Switzerland.” Knox’s mouth curves slightly, but there’s no warmth in it. “Women like Isla deserve only the best diamonds money can buy.”
Heat blooms across my skin.
He said it so smoothly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And God help me, he sounded like he meant it. For a heartbeat, I forget we’re supposed to be pretending.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Chad dumped me like I was a worthless, rotten sack of potatoes, and here is Knox—my villain—talking about me like I’m some kind of queen.
“Wow. Well, congratulations.” Chad looks from me to Knox and stands, extending his hand toward Knox. “Congratulations to both of you.”
Knox looks down at the offered hand, eyes flicking over it like he’s assessing a business deal he has no intention of closing. Then, without taking it, he asks evenly, “What sort ofold friendare you, Chad?”
Chad’s hand falters before he pulls it back. He hesitates for a moment, then squares his shoulders. “I’m Isla’s ex.”
The tension in the air thickens the instant he speaks. I can feel the sting of it against my skin.
“I see,” Knox says, his tone smooth but sharp. “The thing about exes, Chad, is they belong in the past. It’s the only place they still matter.”
No way.He did not just say that.
