Page 55 of A Smile Full of Lies
The air pulsed between us. I could feel her heartbeat in the space where our bodies almost met — could practically hear her thinking, remembering what it felt like to be pinned and hunted in her own fantasy.
I leaned in, letting my breath brush her ear.
“I hope you enjoy the experience,” I whispered.
That was when she finally turned her head, just enough to whisper, “I’ll… think about it.”
Not a yes. Not yet. But not the hard no she’d given Nina either. It was progress.
She set the envelope down like it weighed a hundred pounds, then pushed back from the counter.
“I need some space to think.”
“One more thing.”
She stopped, half turned, and looked back at me.
“I know that you’ll tell me I shouldn’t have, but this is about safety. I paid off your overdue phone bill. I don’t want you going anywhere without a working phone. You may be able to use it over wi-fi here, but everywhere else… So, please just accept it, OK?”
“You… paid off my phone bill? That was hundreds of dollars! And you expect me to just accept it, after everything else you’ve done for me?”
“Yes.”
I made my voice hard, made it sound the way it did in corporate meetings, when I didn’t want anyone to argue. She swallowed,and I could see her fighting with it – her need to argue, even though she knew that it really was about safety.
“I… OK. But don’t you dare do anything else like this. Now I really need to think – a lot.”
With that, she turned, her steps just a little unsteady, and headed toward the guest room.
I let her go, watching the sway of her hips as she disappeared down the hall. A door clicked softly shut between us. The moment she stepped out of the room, I pulled out my phone and unlocked the encrypted folder.
Obscura Ops.
Final updates were already filtering in — staffing confirmations, set adjustments, lighting tweaks for the wine cellar beneath the west wing. Everything was ready.
She wouldn’t wait in the general line. No need to rub elbows with every drunk asshole in Stonewood. She’d be ushered into theVIP line, reserved for guests who’d paid a sickening amount of money for one specific thing:
To have thechanceto be hunted by Nox Obscura.
The VIP list read like a thirst trap directory. MaskTok fans. Content subscribers. People who knew exactly what the fuck they were signing up for. They weren’t there for jump scares or cheap gore — they were there forpower exchange.For primal screams and breathless begging and masked strangers who knew how to chase down a fantasy and pin it to the floor.
She’d hear my name.
NotPhilip Knox. Never that.
ButNox Obscura.
And when she did?
Maybe her breath would hitch. Maybe something in her chest would twist. Maybe she’d remember the words she’d typed into her DMs on that anonymous forum in the dark, not knowing who was on the other end.
Since Josh gave me complete creative control of the haunted house, I’d personally reached out and hired several other thirst trap creators to chase the VIPs, but only one guest was going to get the full Nox Obscura experience, and that was Ros. Sure, I’d make enough appearances to thrill my fans who were specifically buying tickets to come see me make an appearance at this haunted house. But none of them were going to get the kind of experience I intended to give Ros.
I closed the window, locked the folder, and tucked the phone back into my pocket as I looked toward the hallway she’d disappeared down.
She was already walking into my web, and she didn’t even know it.
I listened to make sure she was staying in the guest room with her door closed, trying to pretend like any of this was normal.
