Page 18 of Widow's Walk

“Here’s something better to help loosen those lips of yours.” He pauses. “Don’t worry,joon-kharâsh,” the words roll off his tongue so practiced and perfect. There’s a twinkle in his eyes, looking at me over the rim of his glass as he takes back his seat. “It’ll be our little secret,” he adds with a wink.

I’ll bet no one knows how clairvoyant Harlan is. I hate how I couldn’t see how he’s been watching me like I’ve been studying him.

“Tell me what that means, and I promise to give you a good secret.”

He laughs, and for the first time, I see dimples crease in his cheeks. “I don’t know if I should.” He’s teasing me.

“Then I’m not exchanging any more secrets with you,” I quip.

He gives a long pause for theatrics. “Soul-scraper.”

I almost choke on my wine. “What?” He grins and joins me in laughter. “Soul-scraper?” I echo, still laughing. “What does that even mean?”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Meaning you get under his skin.”

I laugh a little more because not only is it too accurate, it’s dark and poetic. “I’m pretty sure I get under everyone’s skin. In fact, I make it my life’s mission.”

“Well, mission accomplished. Now, give me something good.” He gets right back to it. “Tell me about that guy you killed.”

I shoot him a cheeky smirk. “Which one?”

“You know exactly which one I am referring to.”

Yes, I do. The one everyone thinks I killed while fucking. But I actually killed himafter. I’m notthatsick.

“That’s not exactly a secret.”

“No, but the truth behind it is.”

“There’s not much truth behind it,” I say a little too defensively. My mask fraying at the edges.

He leans forward slightly. “Humor me.”

“How will you know if I’m being truthful or not?” I challenge.

His smirk is slow. “Try me,” he says smugly.

“It’s not a very interesting story.” He sips his drink, his gaze unwavering. “Fine.” I heavily sigh and drink half the glass of the most delicious red wine.

Harlan doesn’t speak, doesn’t push. Only waits.

“He was one of our mob pups,” I begin. “We were fucking in secret.” I pause and mull over my words, deciding on how much truth to give him. Something inside shoves at me, forcing me to give more than I have ever been willing to give. “He got a little too close—too comfortable.” He was supposed to be my entertainment. Until he wasn’t. “He began saying things, making promises, and assumptions. Yet, when my brothers would use me for their own sick entertainment, he’d stand there silently. As if he were a piece of furniture.”

I grow quiet, finding it more difficult to look at him. So, I fidget with my ring. The most gorgeous piece of jewelry I have or will ever own. And it’s odd because the large diamond is blue. A dark blue, but still blue. Yet I happen to love it. There’s something so uniquely captivating about it.

“I realized he’ll always be like the rest of them. Thinks he can own me, manipulate me, and use me. So, I let him think he did that night. Pretended to eat up every sweet word he whispered in the dark. Melted into every kiss, every touch.”

When I glance up at Harlan, the sincerity in his face has me buckling down again. My slow grin is controlled, unshakable. “So, when I reached for the blade, he never saw it coming.”

He lifts his glass to his lips, and his eyes twitch with disappointment. With the anticlimactic ending or the short version of the story, I don’t know what he expected out of me.

“Sorry it wasn’t the story you were hoping for.” I keep my tone playful. “I didn’t end a man mid-orgasm or torture him while pleasuring myself. Everyone prefers the messier version, but it’s not the truth. The truth is quieter and cleaner.”

“More dangerous,” he quickly adds, then he full-on grins. “Like the widow spider.”

My cheeks heat, and I find myself bashful. They’ve called me that as if it were a curse. But I have always worn it like a title.

“He thought he’d be the man you won’t bite. But you’re a woman who lures, traps, and consumes. Seduction with teeth.”

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