Leila had a different plan for Stefanos today. The man had so many poisons to pick from.
She poured him a drink. A smooth, rich brandy. The kind that burned going down. He hadn't noticed the small flicker of her wrist as she slipped something inside.
She held out the glass, meeting his gaze. "Drink with me."
Stefanos took it but didn't sip right away. He studied her carefully, his fingers drumming against the rim. "Trying to get me drunk?"
She let out a soft laugh, lifting her own glass. "Would that be such a bad thing?"
He smirked and took a sip. "You know, Makros doesn't like me drinking too much. He says it dulls my edge."
Leila swirled the liquid in her glass, her eyes gleaming under the dim light. "You work hard for him. You deserve a moment to relax."
He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, taking another slow sip. "You're dangerous, Leila."
She tilted her head, lips parting in mock surprise. "And yet, you want me."
The alcohol was already warming his veins. He reached for her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap.
"I've always wanted you."
Leila let him hold her, let him press his face into her neck, inhaling her scent. His hands roamed down her back, fingers brushing over the silk.
She hummed softly, running her fingers through his hair. "Relax, Stefanos."
His body responded instantly, his grip loosening, his breath deepening.
"You smell so good," he mumbled against her skin, voice thick with lust and liquor.
She stroked his hair, her touch soothing, lulling. "Mmm. Just rest a little."
His body melted against her, heavy, trusting. His head dipped against her shoulder, his breathing slowing.
The glass slipped from his fingers onto the table.
Leila exhaled softly.
Then, with featherlight movements, she reached into his pocket.
Her fingers brushed against fabric, then found what she was looking for.
The key card.
Victory.
It was well past midnight when Leila made her move.
Stefanos had fallen into a deep, alcohol-laced sleep, his arms slack around her. She had waited, patient as ever, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing.
Then, carefully, she had untangled herself from his grasp and slipped from his chambers.
The moment she stepped into the dimly lit hallway, everything about her changed. No more teasing. No more games.
She had what she needed.
The key card.
The estate was eerily silent at this hour. Even the usual guards were fewer, stationed only at the main exits, their routines predictable. Leila moved quickly, staying in the shadows, heart pounding with controlled adrenaline.