Page 56 of Psyop Kings

I’m calculating and strategic.

I like to win.

Which is why I’m changing tactics starting now. No more defense. Only offense from here on out.

After a long, hot shower, where I shaved and exfoliated every part of me, I put on a full face of makeup and spend a lot of time perfectly styling my hair into bouncy golden locks.

The dress Caius asked me to wear is the only red one in the closet. It’s form-fitting and sexy, with a scoop neck that reveals my perky breasts and a long slit up the side that shows off my smooth leg. I pluck the tag off the dress and smirk.

His favorite dress I’ve never worn.

Liar.

It’s satisfying knowing I’m not completely crazy. This small confirmation is enough to give me all the confidence I need to face these monsters. I place the tag on top of his dresser in the closet next to a tray of cufflinks where Caius won’t miss the message.

Whatismy message to the cold snake of a man?

I’m onto your games.

You can’t be sloppy on your details around me because everything is a clue, filed away in my complicated brain, to be mined later and used while at war with you.

Sloppiness is for losers, Caius.

Romy

Red isn’t usually a color I gravitate toward, but even I can’t deny how good this dress looks on me. Gone is the haunted, terrified girl. In her place is a formidable woman playing twisted, intricate games with malicious men. I’m in battle mode.

As I pace the living room on four-inch sparkly heels, waiting for Caius to pick me up, I can’t help but think of my mother. She was always so cold and prickly. Dad too. The difference between them, though, was that Dad is always emotionless and stiff. Her aloofness seemed to only be aimed at her husband and children. I’d once walked in on a soft moment between Mom and one of Dad’s associates. She’d giggled as his hand roamed its way under her shirt. I’d seen her smile at him—wide and truly beautiful—in a way I’d never seen before.

I’d only been five or so at the time.

When her eyes landed on mine, the vicious mask fell into place. I can’t remember if I told Dad or if he found out on his own, but not too long after that, he filed for divorce.

I haven’t seen or spoken to her since that fateful day when I saw that genuine side of her that she greedily kept from us.

Thoughts of Mom’s absence make me think of what came next. The dark times. A part in my history where everything that was straight and made sense suddenly became horribly tangled. My reality shifted after the divorce, and it took a lot of therapy to bring life back into focus.

Before I can continue to travel along the path of memories I’ve spent years trying to put to rest, I notice headlights flashingthrough the trees. My heart rate quickens. It’s Caius, who’s come for me. It takes a few steadying breaths to get my nerves to calm down.

You can do this, Romy.

With my left hand gripping a silver, glittery clutch I found in the closet and my right arm balanced on my hip, I brace myself to see him. Seconds later, he comes striding into the house, distracted as he taps away on his phone with his thumb. He stalks past me, not bothering to look up. Since he’s wearing dark jeans and a black sweater, I assume he’s going to change so that we’re both dressed up. As I thought, he returns a few minutes later in a bespoke tuxedo. In his grip is the tag from the dress.

Our eyes meet—his dark and colder than the depths of the ocean abyss—and I stand my ground. I don’t cower under his chilling stare but rather arch a brow at him as if to indicate I’m done playing the victim.

His eyebrows slightly furl and then his gaze skims over my body, lingering first on my cleavage and then again on the racy slit in the material that shows my upper thigh.

Though his presence is still slightly terrifying, I know I have to force the fear deep down inside. All I have to do is pay attention. Everything is a clue. This is all a puzzle.

“That’ll do,” Caius says, tone dismissive.

Despite his callous words, I see the slight flare of his nostrils. He likes what he sees. However, even though I’m his “girlfriend,” he doesn’t want to like what he sees.

Good.

About time someone else feels uncomfortable around here.

Caius clears his throat and pockets the dress tag before checking his watch. “We need to get going. Guests are already arriving.”

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