Page 151 of Damsel in Disguise

“Yet you let me kill Delilah,” a faint smile curves against her lips.

A perfectly logical response to what I just admitted.

That should’ve irritated me enough to throw her onto the floor and drag her out of this room myself.

And I never lose composure.

Instead, my gaze drops to her mouth that’s still swollen from the kiss. My eyes drift lower to where the pulse at her throat is supposed to be hidden beneath black leather.

To the rapid rise and fall of her chest from anticipation.

To the subtle shift in her thighs when I move closer.

My cock twitches inside the sweatpants.

God. This is bad.

I move my arm to brace it beside her head against the cabinet and lean close enough to feel her breathing hitch.

For one dangerous second, I almost kiss her.

Just then, my body jerks backward on instinct, putting distance between us before I can make another mistake.

“Leave, Ariella. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“I don’t know the exit—“

“Stop pretending and leave.”

The softness disappears from her expression immediately.

She doesn’t argue anymore.

Ariella slowly steps backward first, watching me carefully like she’s trying to memorize every fracture beneath my composure, before finally turning and running toward the exit just like she did earlier tonight.

Only this time, I know she won’t stay behind to spy on me.

44. HEIR

alistair

The moment I step into the main living area—long after Delilah’s remains had been wiped clean off the Earth—I notice Ariella cleaned it all.

The metallic smell of blood has faded beneath sharp cleaning chemicals.

The marble floor still reflects faint smeared streaks where synthetic fluid had been dragged across it before being scrubbed away.

One of the leather chairs sits slightly crooked near the couch, pushed back into place with careless haste.

Beside the couch, a damp cleaning rag remains abandoned half beneath the furniture where she must’ve accidentally kicked it during cleanup.

And underneath the lingering scent of chemicals is the smell of her. Sweet. Expensive. Human.

It clings stubbornly to the air, threading through the rot and smoke Delilah left behind.

This should irritate me—how naturally her presence has begun embedding itself into my world.

Someone entered my home, discovered the containment chamber, witnessed Dominion technology, and assisted in disposing of a Synthète corpse. And instead of eliminating the threat immediately, I kissed her.