Polished.
Sharp enough to catch the light like a blade of ice.
Engraved on the handle is one word:
LIAR.
My stomach flips.
My skin goes cold.
Every sound in the room dulls to a hum.
Kai.
Oh God, Kai.
Noah steps closer, his shadow merging with mine.
“The fuck is this?” he mutters.
I blink fast, swallowing the choke rising in my throat.
“I—I don’t know.”
Play innocent.
Play sweet.
Play safe.
I pick up the knife with steady fingers even though my pulse is a storm inside my veins.
“It’s… probably some weird joke gift.” My voice is soft, airy, practiced. “People send strange things when they hear you’re getting married.”
Noah bristles.
“Who the hell would send you a knife?” He steps closer, voice tightening. “That engraving—Scarlett, this isn’t a joke. Someone’s messing with you.”
The irony nearly makes me laugh.
Or cry.
Or collapse.
Someone isn’t messing with me.
Someone is reclaiming me.
I gently close the box and set it aside, letting out a delicate sigh as if overwhelmed by drama, not terror.
“Sweetheart, it’s fine.” I touch his arm, stroking softly. “This is just someone with terrible taste.”
His eyes narrow.
“You’re acting weird.”
I freeze.
