Page 165 of The Rules
Still, not a word.
But Katherine could read it in the way he didn’t look at either of them.
He was recalibrating. Regrouping.
And barely holding the leash.
"Careful, brother," Julian teased. "Looks like you found someone who actually knows how toplay."
Ben still didn't answer. But his silence said enough.
Julian exhaled through his nose—rolled his shoulders like shaking off the weight of the last ten minutes. The smirk remained, but something beneath it had shifted.
Maybe it was the first hint of sincerity. Maybe it was just a very convincing performance. Katherine couldn't tell, and that uncertainty made her stomach tighten.
"Alright, alright. I'll be good," Julian said.
He held up one hand in mock surrender, then set it back down with a softtapagainst the table.
"I get carried away sometimes. Crossing lines, just to see who bleeds." A shrug followed, casual and unbothered. Like it was just his version of a nicotine habit. "It's a bad habit. I'll try to keep myself in check."
He turns back to Kath. That lazy, dangerous grin softens—just enough to make it more unnerving.
"Won't happen again," Julian said lightly — "Probably."
He tapped the table once more, his fingers lingering against the polished surface. Katherine watched the movement, noting how deliberate it was. Everything about Julian Sinclair seemed calculated, even when he was pretending to be casual.
"No hard feelings, right?" he asked, his voice dripping with false sincerity.
Katherine exhaled. Slow. Measured. She held his gaze for a beat longer than polite, letting the silence stretch between them. Julian didn't flinch. Didn't look away. If anything, he seemed to enjoy her scrutiny, like he was curious what she'd find if she looked hard enough.
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. Not again.
Then— She nodded once.
"No hard feelings," Katherine replied coolly.
The words felt strange in her mouth. Like a lie, but not quite. She didn't trust Julian—couldn't trust him—but she understoodhim a little better now. He wasn't just Ben's brother. He was a weapon they needed, even if that weapon came with its own agenda.
Julian's grin widened just enough, his eyes gleaming with something that wasn't quite amusement, wasn't quite approval, but some dangerous mix of both.
He tapped his fingers against the table again, softer this time. A rhythm that seemed almost intimate, like they were sharing a secret now.
"Good girl," Julian said quietly, his voice dropping to something satisfied and low.
The words sent an involuntary shiver down Katherine's spine. Not because they were threatening, but because they echoed someone else entirely. A different voice. A different context. Ben.
She didn’t respond.
Not with words. Not with breath. Just sat there, spine straight, fingers curled around her glass like it might anchor her to something real.
The ice had melted. The drink was warm.
She hadn’t touched it.
Across the table, Julian leaned back again, self-satisfied and sharp-edged, already retreating into his own shadows.
But her focus had narrowed—quietly, without announcement—to the man beside her.
