Esme stared at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers running over the delicate fabric of the nightgown she had chosen. It was nothing like the modest sleepwear she usually wore. No, this was different—intentional.
The silk clung to her curves, the deep neckline revealing just enough to tease without being vulgar. The lace straps rested delicately on her shoulders, and the soft slit at the side of the gown exposed a glimpse of her smooth thigh.
It was bold.
It was daring.
And it was the perfect weapon for the game she was about to play.
After her call with Lucan, she had spent the last hour planning her next move. She wouldn't grovel for Kael's attention. She wouldn't lash out in petty jealousy.
No, she would own this game.
And Kael?
He would learn what it meant to want something he couldn't control.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her room, her bare feet padding softly against the cold floor as she moved through the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet, the wedding celebration long over, and the guests either gone or settled into their rooms.
But Esme had only one destination in mind.
Kael's room.
She didn't knock.
She simply turned the handle and stepped inside.
Kael was there, standing near the window, his broad back facing her. He had removed his suit jacket, his white dress shirt undone at the top, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest. He was holding a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the moonlight spilling through the curtains.
At the sound of the door closing behind her, he turned.
And then he froze.
His dark eyes swept over her slowly, his grip on the glass tightening just slightly.
Esme saw it.
That flicker of something. That hesitation, that brief moment where she had his undivided attention.
She stepped forward, her every movement deliberate, her chin tilted up as she met his gaze with unwavering confidence.
"You walked out on me earlier," she said, her voice smooth, controlled. "I didn't like that."
Kael's lips curled into a smirk, but there was something else there—something mischievous. "And what? You came to punish me?"
Esme tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Punish you?" She let out a soft chuckle, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between them. "No, Kael. I came to remind you of something."
He raised a brow, amusement flickering across his face. "And what's that?"
She leaned in slightly, her breath grazing his cheek. "That you belong to me."
Kael stilled.
His smirk didn't disappear, but it faltered—just for a second.
Esme smiled to herself.
Checkmate.
The air between them was thick with something unspoken.
Kael stood there, his grip on his whiskey glass tightening as he watched Esme take slow, measured steps toward him. The silk of her gown clung to every curve, the dim lighting casting shadows that only highlighted her every movement.
She was doing this on purpose.
And he knew it.
Esme stopped just inches away from him, her head tilting slightly as she looked up at him through her lashes. The air around them seemed to still, an invisible tension pulling them closer, as if the very room had conspired to trap them in this moment.
"You belong to me, Kael," she murmured, her voice smooth like honey, her fingers reaching out to lightly graze his arm.
Kael exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching.
Esme smiled.
Slowly, deliberately, she let her fingers travel up his arm, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath his shirt. She dragged them higher, over his shoulder, tracing a path to his collarbone before letting them slip down to the open part of his dress shirt.
Kael's breath hitched.
Oh, she had his full attention now.
She pressed closer, just enough for him to feel the heat of her body without actually touching him completely. Her free hand trailed up his chest, and she leaned in, her lips hovering just beside his jaw, the warmth of her breath teasing his skin.
"You feel that?" she whispered, letting her lips barely graze his jawline. "That's what you make me feel every time you play your little games."
Kael let out a slow, controlled exhale, the girl was playing nasty games, but Esme didn't stop.
She pulled back just enough to lock eyes with him, her gaze teasing, challenging. Then, ever so slightly, she tilted her face closer to his, her lips barely brushing against his—but not kissing him.
Just taunting him.
Kael's patience snapped.
With a growl, he moved—so fast that Esme barely registered it before her back hit the cold wall. The whiskey glass in his hand was abandoned somewhere, shattering against the floor as he caged her in with both arms.
Esme's breath hitched, her heart hammering against her chest.
Kael's face was mere inches from hers now, his dark eyes hooded, burning with something so intense it sent a shiver down her spine. His gaze dragged over her face, her parted lips, her heaving chest.
He looked dangerous.
"Is this the game you want to play, Esme?" His voice was low, rough, laced with something raw and unfiltered.
Esme swallowed hard, her confidence faltering for the first time.
He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes piercing straight into her soul, unreadable, unreadably hungry.
"You want to test me?" he whispered, his lips barely an inch from hers.
Esme was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was—trapped between him and the wall, his body mere inches from hers, his gaze holding her captive.
She forced herself to meet his stare, refusing to let the fear in her chest win.
But Kael saw it.
He felt it.
And he smirked.
****. ****. ****.