Page 150 of Without a Trace
She was striking—Tall. Poised. A face that didn’t beg for attention—it demanded it. Full lips, deep bronze skin, and hair so dark it shimmered blue under the lights, falling in perfect, effortless waves over a sleeveless blood-red halter.
Her heels clicked once as she stepped onto the wood floor before she slid into an empty chair across the table and crossed her legs, one ankle hooked elegantly over the other.
I didn’t bother hiding my disgust. “I’m sorry—who the fuck are you?”
She tilted her head. “Seriously? No one told you?” Her voice was silk dipped in poison. “That’s embarrassing for them.”
Trace shifted his weight behind me. Zeke’s grip tightened around his fork.
She cocked her head. “Brielle.”
The name fell out like it should’ve meant something. But all I saw was a stranger with too much confidence and not enough manners.
I sipped my drink, slow, deliberate. “And I’m supposed to care because…?”
She smirked—just a flicker. “Because everything you think you know? It’s about to implode.”
I laughed once, sharp. “You rehearsed that?”
Brielle finally met my stare, unblinking. “Scarlett Monroe. The hidden heir. Raised in the dark and bonded in the worst way possible.”
A beat passed. I didn’t respond. Neither did anyone else.
She rose again, slow and poised. “You think this is about the boys? About pretty little bracelets and stolen nights?”
My pulse kicked harder.
Brielle stepped around the table, heels landing with steady precision. “You’re not just part of this story anymore. You are the story.”
Her gaze cut to Trace, then Alden. “You sealed a bond that shouldn’t exist. Not between three. And definitely not with her.”
Trace leaned back in his chair. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t speak either.
Brielle turned back to me. “You’re the kind of mistake people start wars over.”
I stood up, glass dangling loose in my fingers. “Then maybe they should’ve killed me when they had the chance.”
Brielle smiled like she knew something I didn’t. “The Red Veil knows you’re alive.”
The world didn’t stop—but I swear the waves outside paused for breath.
I took another step, closing the distance. “And?”
“They’re not the only ones.” She looked to Zeke, who hadn’t moved. “Your leash is slipping.”
Zeke stood—slow, deliberate—but it was Rhett who rose first.
“Alright,” Rhett muttered. “That’s enough.”
Brielle raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just here for dinner.”
“Funny,” I said. “You look more like dessert.”
That earned a snort from Kane. Brielle’s mouth twitched.
“I’ll play nice,” she said, eyes flicking back to me. “For now.”
I didn’t sit.
