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“No,” I say. “That was the problem.”

She blinks at me like I’m speaking another language.

Which, to be fair, I sort of am. Mine is fluent bitchery. Yes, that is a word now.

She tries to lean around me, but I shift with her. “Are you serious?” she snaps.

“Dead serious.”

“Kento—”

I turn my head just enough to glare at her. “If you say his name again, I’ll take that tongue of yours and make you eat it.”

She huffs, actually stomps one foot like a frustrated child, and I nearly laugh in her face.

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“Thank you.”

“I was just going to say hi!”

“And now you’ve had the full experience. Congratulations.”

That earns me a murderous glare that would be more convincing if she didn’t also look like she was considering crying. Then she tosses her hair, mutters something under her breath about me being a psycho, and stalks away into the crowd.

Victory.

I watch her leave for one satisfied second before turning around.

Straight into him.

Kento regards me with that inscrutable amusement lurking in his obsidian eyes. Then he inclines his head, the faintest suggestion of a smile touching his mouth. “Well, hello, my prince.”

Fuck.

Actually, fuck to the fuck of all fucks.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to remain hidden and watch him from a distance like a normal deranged person, gather information, confirm he was still alive, maybe leave before he saw me and I had to invent a reason for being here that didn’t make me sound like a jealous idiot.

Instead, I’m standing directly in front of him after verbally chasing off one of his groupies like an unmedicated wife.

Wonderful.

Kento

“My, my,” I say, letting the smirk take over my mouth, “if it isn’t my prince standing right in front of me. Did you miss me?”

Ilya’s eyes flash. “No. Actually, the silence was fucking delightful. I barely noticed you were gone.”

The music pounds through the room, people packed shoulder to shoulder beneath flashing lights, but it all disappears the moment he looks at me. He’s furious. Flustered. Already trying to stitch his pride back together before anyone notices it came apart in the first place.

It was hard to stay away. I don’t like punishing him, but I can’t let him think he can shut me out whenever he wants and I’ll simply accept it. So this time, I waited. I gave him the space he was asking for. And eventually, just like I knew he would, he came to me.

I tilt my head and let my gaze move lazily over his face. “No?”

“No,” he says flatly. “Don’t start.”

I hum, as if considering it. “In that case…” I glance toward the direction Sasha disappeared. “Maybe I should go back to her, since you interrupted—”