He’s a manipulative sociopath. A killer wrapped in couture and bad intentions. He should disgust me. I should be immune by now. But all I can think about is the heat that came off him when he moved too close. The way my throat tightened—not with fear, not entirely—but with want.
That’s the worst of it.
Because my body—traitorous, humiliating body—reacted.
The desk feels cold under my palms as I brace myself, leaning over the mess of files and holoscreens. I squeeze my eyes shut. No. No. I will not spiral over this. Overhim.
But my brain won’t shut up.
His smirk, that precise tilt of his head when I pushed back. The way he smells—like danger and midnight and something darkly decadent. His eyes didn’t leer. They devoured. And the sick thing is, part of me wanted to be consumed.
My knees had buckled when he loomed during the debrief, voice soft and deadly in my ear, outlining how he’d “carve truth into their bones.” I barked back that this was a deposition, not a vendetta. He only smiled.
A predator’s smile.
And my stomach fluttered like it was goddamn prom night.
I should report this. Should pull myself off the case.
But I won’t.
Because I don’t back down.
And maybe, deep down in some poisoned part of me, I need to prove I can control this. Him. Myself.
I lock the office door.
I won’t cry.
Not over the whisper of a fantasy that flickers behind my eyelids every time I close them.
I sit. Stare at the wall.
He’s unraveling me.
But I’ll burn the thread before I let him see it.
CHAPTER 6
AEBON REXX
She flinches.
It’s subtle—barely a hitch in the corner of her mouth, a flicker of her lashes as I walk in. But I catch it. Ismellit. Pheromones, thick and tart like ripe citrus just beneath the polished facade of civility she wears like war paint.
And gods, how it feeds me.
The silk shirt I chose this morning is black as sin and just slightly too open. I’d tell her I didn’t do it on purpose, but that would be a lie. She needs to see what she’s fighting. Needs to feel it pressing against her will like a storm tide against a dam.
“Counselor,” I purr, sliding into the chair across from her like it belongs to me. “Miss me?”
Her mouth tightens. “We’re starting with testimony regarding the Varaxx incident. Stick to the facts.”
“Oh, sweetheart, Iamthe facts.”
She exhales sharply, taps her compad like it’s a weapon. “Let’s not do this.”
I smirk. “Do what?”
