CHAPTER 2

Dinner ended exactly as it began—stiff, quiet, and suffocating.

Viola didn’t wait for Vanessa or her mother to stand up. The moment Rafael pushed his chair back, she slipped away from the table. She kept her head down, tracing the edge of the hallway until she found the heavy glass doors leading to the east terrace.

She pushed them open and stepped into the cool night air.

Her chest heaved as she took a slow, uneven breath. The anxiety that had been wrapping around her throat all evening finally loosened. She leaned against the stone railing, wrapping her arms tightly around her ribs.

It was quiet out here. Safe.

A sharp, metallic click broke the silence.

Viola froze.

In the far corner of the terrace, a small flame flared in the dark. It illuminated a strong jaw, the faint scar near the mouth, and a pair of cold amber eyes.

Sebastian.

He closed the silver lighter with a snap. The scent of tobacco drifted through the cold air as he exhaled a thin stream of gray smoke. He didn’t move from the shadows. He just stood there, leaning against the stone wall, watching her.

Viola’s heart started hammering against her ribs again. She took a small step backward, her hand reaching blindly for the handle of the glass door.

"Running back inside?" his voice was rough, carrying easily across the terrace.

She stopped. Her hand hovered over the door handle. She kept her eyes glued to the stone floor. "I… I didn’t know... anyone was out here."

"Obviously." He took another drag of his cigarette. "You look like you're about to faint."

Viola swallowed hard, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her oversized sweater. She hated this. She hated how weak she sounded, how her voice always betrayed her when she was nervous. "I just... I needed some air."

"You didn't eat," he noted. It wasn't a question.

"I... I wasn't hungry."

"Your sister ate enough for both of you," Sebastian said dryly. "And talked enough for the whole table."

Viola blinked, surprised. She glanced up, catching the faint, cruel smirk on his face. He was mocking Vanessa. No one ever mocked Vanessa. Men usually fell over themselves trying to get her attention, but Sebastian sounded bored by the very thought of her.

He pushed off the wall and started walking slowly toward her.

Viola’s breath hitched. He moved with a heavy, predatory grace, like a man who never had to rush because everything would eventually come to him anyway. The closer he got, the more terrifying he was. He was too tall, too broad, taking up too much space on the open terrace.

He stopped a few feet away. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him, though she quickly dropped her gaze back to his dark shoes.

"Why do you shake so much?" he asked, his eyes dropping to her trembling hands.

She quickly hid them in her sleeves, her chest rising and falling too fast. "I'm—I'm not."

"You're lying."

Viola’s throat was painfully dry. "I should... I should go back inside," she stammered, taking half a step back. "My mother... she'll be looking for me."

"Your mother isn't looking for you," he said. His voice was flat, devoid of any sympathy. "She’s busy trying to convince my father how useful her eldest daughter would be to my cartel."

The bluntness of his words hit her like a physical blow. She knew it was true, but hearing it spoken out loud made it hurt more. She kept her eyes averted, staring at the dark fabric of his suit jacket.

"Look at me."

The command was quiet, but it left no room for argument.

Viola hesitated, her breathing shallow. Slowly, she dragged her gaze up to meet his. Up close, his eyes weren't just amber. They were sharp and dangerous, like a warning sign she was ignoring.

"You're afraid of me," he stated.

"Y-yes," she whispered before she could stop herself.

Sebastian stared at her for a long, heavy moment. He lifted his hand, bringing the cigarette to his lips, but his eyes never left hers.

"Good," he murmured, exhaling the smoke into the space between them. "Stay that way, dulzura."

Viola’s brow furrowed slightly. "What… what does that mean?"

Sebastian tilted his head. A dark, mocking amusement flickered in his eyes as he stepped a fraction closer, his tall frame entirely caging her against the railing.

"It means you shake so beautifully," he murmured softly, his amber eyes dropping to her trembling lips before slowly rising back to hers. "A man might think you actually want to be hunted."

Viola pressed back in horror, her shoulders hitting the cold stone. "W-what?" she stuttered, her eyes wide.

A slow, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his mouth. "Relax, dulzura," he drawled, taking a step back to give her space. "I'm not doing anything."

He turned around, walking toward the glass doors. But just before he reached them, he paused, looking back over his broad shoulder.

"Not yet."

He pushed the door open, leaving the faint smell of tobacco and something distinctly masculine in his wake.

Viola didn't move until she heard the heavy glass click shut behind him. Her legs felt weak. She brought a hand to her chest, trying to steady her erratic heartbeat.

But as she stood alone in the cold, all she could think about was the way he had looked at her—like she was the only person in the world who existed.