Chapter 7

I found myself in front of the big mirror in my suite, the golden light from the chandelier giving my face a cozy glow. My reflection looked back at me, but I wasn’t really feeling it. My dark hair was on point, but my hands kept messing with it, smoothing it down like that would somehow ease my nerves.

The black skinny jeans felt like they were squeezing the life out of my legs, and the tight fabric wasn’t helping my anxiety at all. I kept pulling at my shirt, the soft material clinging to my skin and reminding me just how revealing this outfit was. “Why did I let Ava convince me to wear this? This outfit screams desperation. Lysander doesn’t care about my looks… does he?” I thought, trying to shake off the worry.

“Stop fidgeting, Kylie. You look great. Actually, better than great,” Ava’s voice broke the silence as she lounged on the couch, flipping through a magazine with that annoyingly relaxed vibe she always had.

“I really don’t think this outfit is a good choice. It’s too… much,” I replied, my voice tight with anxiety.

Ava barely glanced up from her magazine, a smirk creeping onto her face. “It’s exactly what you need. Guys like Lysander are all the same — they think they’re in control, but they’re not. And we’ve got our own tricks.”

Her words made my stomach churn. The room felt like it was closing in on me, and the warmth from the chandelier suddenly felt overwhelming. “I don’t want to play games with him. I just want him to see me for who I really am, not just some object of desire.”

“I don’t think Lysander is the type to lose control… even if I wanted him to,” I said, my voice shaky.

Ava laughed, shaking her head. “You’d be surprised. They all have their weak spots. Just remember, if you want to make this marriage work, you’ll have to play the game.”

Before I could say anything else, the door to Rosy’s bedroom swung open dramatically, and she strutted out in her tight leather pants and fitted black tee. She looked ready to steal the show. She seemed more like a rebellious teen than the grown-up she was aiming to be. Her entrance was bold, and her confidence was practically glowing.

“Hey, Lysander,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of flirtation and defiance.

Ava rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed. “Come on, Rosy. You’re trying way too hard.”

I felt a wave of protectiveness wash over me. My hands gripped Rosy’s shoulders, the cool leather of her jacket contrasting with the warmth of my palms. My heart raced, a blend of concern and frustration bubbling inside me.

“You’re still too young, Rosy. Go back to Ava,” I said firmly, leaving no room for debate.

Rosy pouted, her youthful defiance shining through. “I’m not that young.”

“Yes, you are. Just go,” I insisted, trying to keep my voice calm.

Then Lysander stepped into the doorway, his tall frame filling the space with authority. His dark eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Behind him were Dorian, Dante, and Rowan — his silent crew, their expressions unreadable.

“You must be Rosy, the youngest sister,” Lysander said coolly, his gaze fixed on me.

“I’m not that young,” Rosy shot back, clearly annoyed.

Lysander’s cold, assessing eyes ignored her. “Yes, you are.”

I felt Lysander’s gaze sweep over me, the scrutiny making my skin tingle with awareness. A flush crept up my neck as his eyes lingered, making me feel exposed. "This is different. He’s looking at me like… like he wants something."

“I didn’t expect to meet in my suite,” I said, attempting to sound casual but failing miserably.

Lysander’s voice dropped to a low, commanding tone. “Are you going to let me in?”

The tension in the room was thick, the air heavy with unspoken words. Ava’s voice broke the silence, dripping with sarcasm as she tried to lighten the mood.

"Oh, chill out, Lysander. We sneak out every weekend just to see who can score the most guys. It’s just a silly little game,” Ava said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rosy laughed, clearly loving the playful exchange. “I’m totally winning.”

Lysander’s face darkened, his jaw clenched as he shot me a frosty look. The atmosphere felt like it was closing in as he moved closer, his presence almost suffocating. I could feel the warmth radiating from him, making my nerves spike.

“I need to talk to you, Kylie. Right now,” Lysander said, his tone serious.

Ava jumped up, looking defensive. “I was just kidding, come on!”

Dorian, with a mix of playfulness and authority, grabbed Ava’s wrist. “Let’s not interrupt the adults, okay?”

Lysander’s hand was on my lower back, the warmth of his touch seeping through my shirt. The scent of his cologne, rich and captivating, overwhelmed my senses, making me dizzy.

*What does he want from me? I’m not ready for this, I thought, my anxiety shifting into something I couldn’t quite identify.

Ava was trying to break free from Dorian’s hold. “You can’t just take her like that!”

Lysander’s steady voice cut through my confusion. “Where’s your bedroom?”