Page 14 of Monsters Wear Crowns
I swirled my drink, tilting my head as if I wasn’t reeling. “Ah.ThatRafe.”
His lips twitched as if he found my reaction amusing. “So you’ve heard of me.”
I held his gaze, pretending my stomach wasn’t in knots. “You have a reputation.”
He took a step closer. It was subtle, almost lazy, but my body reacted before my brain did. My spine straightened, my grip tightening around my drink.
He noticed.
And helikedit.
“I suppose I do.” His voice was smooth, laced with something that made my skin tingle. He lifted his glass to his lips, watching me over the rim.
“And what exactly are you hoping to accomplish here?”
He took his time answering. Then, in one slow, measured movement, he leaned in–just enough to let his lips hover near my ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Butterflieswreckedmy stomach. I swallowed, keeping my voice steady. “I don’t play games.”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “Neither do I.”
I huffed a laugh. I almost believed him. I glanced at the endless expanse of darkness over the city. It was nothing compared to the shadows lurking in his eyes. I’d been reckless before. Letmen in when I shouldn’t have, let them touch me, whisper sweet nothings in my ear that meant nothing at all. And maybe I liked the recklessness. The power in letting them believe they had a chance.
I stared at his lips, wondering what they felt like, how they would taste. A cool breeze passed over the terrace, and the thin strap of my tank top slipped down my shoulder.
Before I could fix it, his fingers brushed against my skin. A slow, careful touch as he eased the strap back into place.
I exhaled, my stomach tightening.
Burning.
“What is your name?” he asked calmly. His gaze never left mine.
He should already know.“Adela Sinclair.”
He smiled. “That’s beautiful.”
I nodded once, surprised at how breathless I felt. “I have a reputation, too, you know.”
“Sinclair Solutions,” he mused. “Sinclair is quite the name.”
“So is a Vaughan.”
He was silent for a moment, studying my face, likely looking for a crack that hinted I knew who exactly he was.
I stepped away, sauntering toward the far end of the rooftop. A section lined with potted plants and velvet couches bathed in the soft glow of vintage lanterns. The flickering golden light made the space feel almost intimate. The city roared below us, a jungle of power and ambition, but it was just him and me up here.
I sat, crossing my legs at my knees.
He followed.Of course,he followed.
For a moment, we simply sipped our drinks in silence. Then, his voice slid through the night. “Tell me something, Adela.”
I arched a brow. “That depends.”
His smirk was nothing short of wicked. “What kind of men do you like?”
I scoffed, tilting my head. “Why? Trying to see if youmeasure up?”
