Soraya was watching him again. Same corner, same drink, ice tapping against the glass in a slow, restless beat.
Jace was laughing at something — with the bartender maybe, or someone else who didn't matter — and it got under her skin. The easy way he smiled. How he leaned in when he listened, like he actually cared. It made her want to claw it out of him. That softness. That... belonging that wasn't hers yet.
But it would be. He just didn't know it.
She finished her drink in one sharp pull and stood up, heels clicking. The crowd moved out of her way without thinking about it — they always did. There was something about her people didn't like looking at for too long. Something dangerous.
He noticed her halfway across the room. His smile slipped a little. Not scared — just... wary.
"Following me now?" he said, half a joke, half not.
"I own this place," she said, sliding onto the stool next to him without asking. "If anyone's following, it's you."
Jace turned toward her, resting his elbow on the bar like he wasn't rattled. "Then throw me out."
Soraya smiled slow, like a knife slipping out of a sheath. "Where's the fun in that?"
He laughed, but it sounded tight. "You're dangerous," he said, shaking his head.
She leaned in close, fingers smoothing over the front of his shirt, pretending she cared how he looked. She didn't. She just liked how it made him tense.
"Only if you're stupid enough to care," she said.
Jace didn't move away. But something flickered in his eyes — something cracked a little. Like he wanted to believe there was something real underneath her games.
"You don't have to do that," he said after a second, quieter.
"Do what?"
"Push."
She smirked, but it didn't feel as sharp this time. "You like it when I push."
"You don't know what I like."
"You're not that complicated."
He looked at her like he could see right through the act. And for one second, she hated him for it.
"You think I'm weak," he said. His voice was steady, but softer now. "Because I don't play like you. But it's not weakness."
She said nothing.
"It's a choice," he said.
She didn't argue. Didn't have to. Instead, she let her hand slide down to his thigh — no gentleness, just taking.
"Be careful," she whispered against his ear. "Your kindness makes me want to ruin you."
And just like that, she got up and walked away. She didn't look back.
She didn't need to. She knew he was still watching her.