Little liar.
I chuckle darkly, the sound seeming to ripple through the night air. She shivers visibly, her expression becoming arrested as she stares at me. “You’re a little liar, you know that?” I take a deliberate step closer, my gaze fixed on hers as I let the words hang between us.
Her expression shifts instantly, becoming blank as she retreats two steps. But there’s something sparking in those blueeyes—that same sharp intelligence I noticed when I first met her.
You can’t hide it now.I see you.
“A little liar?” she echoes, arching a brow. “Isn’t that a stretch? I only defended myself from someone trying to hurt me.”
“Gënjeshtareza e vogël,” I murmur, the Albanian words I’ve never had reason to use rolling off my tongue like they were made for this moment. "You expect me to believe that? Don’t insult me. That was no 'lack of skills.'"
I know for a fact that Frederik is well-trained because I personally oversaw the program. Maybe not one-on-one, but I booked sessions with professionals, made sure every man under my command could handle themselves in a fight. My men are good.
But somehow, she’s better.
She stiffens—for just a fraction of a second, but it’s enough for me to notice. I notice everything about her.
I close the remaining distance between us, my gaze never wavering from hers. “No,Mia,” I continue, my voice lowering. "Frederik has skills. You simply out-skilled him. I can see it in your eyes, in the precise way you hit him. You’ve been trained. Professionally. But you’re not going to admit that, are you?”
She tilts her head, her fingers brushing over her jeans, almost as if she’s trying to wipe away evidence or hide her internal turmoil. "You don't know anything about me." Her voice stays admirably cool, but I catch a tremor beneath it.
Guilt? Fear?
I lean in even more, until all I can breathe in is her, until she fills my entire field of vision. “Maybe not. But I know a lot more than you think,” I murmur, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, close enough to feel her sharp intake of breath. "Andgënjeshtar... don’t think for a second I’m buying your act."Liar.
She jerks back quickly, nearly stumbling in her haste—hergaze sharp and challenging even as a blush creeps across her cheeks.
Cute.
Chin high, eyes flashing, she works her lips for a moment before pushing the words past them. “Can I be dismissed?Sir.”
The ‘sir’ was definitely an afterthought.
I wave a dismissive hand, and she spins around, practically running to escape my presence. I watch until she disappears from view, then pull my phone from my back pocket and text Lorik, my private investigator.
I want you to look into someone pretending to be Mia Jorge. Blonde, blue-eyed, seems American. Attaching her photo.
I send the surveillance image I captured of her this afternoon. The message shows as delivered almost immediately.
Let’s see who you really are, little liar.
Once my phone is locked and slipped back into my pocket, I turn towards thefrigorifer,my mind already shifting to the next problem that needs handling.
Frederik.
What punishment would be fitting for a man who thought it was acceptable to hurt a woman under my protection? I need to set a precedent here—make it crystal clear to every soul on the estate that this kind of behavior won’t be tolerated under any circumstances.
What ifMiahadn’t been able to protect herself and I hadn’t been nearby?
The thought sends cold fury through my veins. I won’t allow my estate to descend into lawless chaos. That’s not how I run things.
5
KATIE
I fucked up last night.
Fucked up spectacularly.
