Page 17 of Darkest Deception

What a manipulative fucker.

Near the end of the photoshoot when all models are together, a faint hot trail brushes my cheek, and I look up. Helia’s intense eyes are on me. Something hot boils inside of me, probably my hatred for him. The sight of him makes me want to throttle him.

I lift a brow as if asking ‘what?’

His eyes slide to Arlo, back to me, then down to my hand, which rests on Arlo’s arm. His eyes harden, jaw locked while he keeps looking between me and Arlo. Maybe I am overstepping boundaries, but he didn’t care when he went with Lilith, so me doing something simple shouldn’t matter.

I shrug.

Helia narrows his eyes further. My body tenses.

I jut my chin towards all the models now together in front of the camera, silently asking him to pay attention.

His eyes dart to my hand once more.

I wink at him playfully. His nostrils flare, his body tense while he flexes his hand as if restraining himself from breaking something.

“Lilith, look towards me, love, at the camera,” Arlo shouts.

Lilith blushes at being caught staring at, I can only assume, Helia. Her new little crush.

“Sorry,” she mutters and looks towards the camera.

I hold in a small laugh, and it seems Helia catches me doing so. He strides over and shoulders his way between me and Arlo. His large body stands between us, his gardenia and dark musk scent looming around me like a caress.

“Get closer shots, Arlo. I don’t want them all to look the same.”

Arlo scrambles away at Helia’s commanding tone.

To my surprise, Helia stays next to me.

His shoulder brushes against mine.

My breathing stutters.

I take a step to the left.

He casually takes one too.

I sigh, glaring at the side of his face. A soft smile is present on his face as he focuses on Lilith, who just keeps blushing.

“There is a thing called personal space,” I grit out.

He glances down at me, smile frozen in place, but it isn’t for me.

Two-faced fucker.

“Never heard of it.”

I shove my shoulder against his. He bites his lip, holding in his laugh.

“Stop laughing. You keep flirting and not being professional. Maybe you should have left the company alone,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “You weren’t wanted here, anyway.”

The humour drains from his eyes, and his jaw tightens and tics. His face darkens, and the easy-going smile on his face freezes in a way only I could notice.

My body runs cold, ice prickling under my skin like parasites.

Fuck.

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