Page 77 of Dance of Deception

“Carmine—”

“I’m waiting…”

She wriggles again. “If I say it, will you let me go?”

“It can’t hurt your chances.”

Her bottom lip slips between her teeth, and she chews on it.

“Say it, Lyra.”

She takes a slow, shaky breath, not looking at me.

“You’re… You’re a psychopath.”

The words hang between us. And then—I smile.

I let the moment stretch out, let her feel the weight of what she just admitted.

I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear.

“Good girl,” I murmur, voice silk and steel. “Thank you for your honesty.”

I can feel her pulse thrumming against my fingers, the erratic beat betraying how hard she’s fighting to stay in control. I can also feel her starting to fray at the edges.

I amnotthe kind of man to let an opportunity like that go to waste.

I take a slow sip of my drink, letting my gaze drag lazily back to the couple in the corner.

His hands are on her everywhere—gripping her hips, sliding into her dress to maul her breasts as she bounces on his lap. He’s got a handful of her hair pulled tight as she gasps and shoves back in ecstasy.

It’s raw. Unfiltered.

I glance at Lyra. She’s deliberately not looking.

I smirk, watching her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.

“Look at them,” I murmur.

Her gaze remains fixed straight ahead, her jaw set, her fingers digging into the silk of her dress.

I tilt my head, studying her. This isn’t just shyness. It runs deeper than that.

I lean in, my voice a rough growl against her ear.

“You’re not a child, Lyra.”

She inhales sharply.

“Why is it,” I murmur, “that you can’t even look at that?”

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t evenmove.

The only sign that she’s still breathing is the slight, uneven rise and fall of her chest.

Very interesting.

“You study people,” I muse, letting my fingers stroke lazily over her waist. “And here you are, refusing to face something so basic. So naturally, inherently human.”

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