Page 46 of The Art of Ruin

Her eyes lift to it briefly before flitting back to mine cautiously. “That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

“I’m perfectly capable of paying for—”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

Something in her expression hardens slightly at that, pride surfacing beneath the careful professionalism she usually hides behind. “I’m not asking you for money, Adriano.”

The fact she uses my name still lands differently than it should. “I’m aware,” I say evenly. “And I’m not offering charity.”

Inside the house, I can hear Letty singing badly to herself while she washes her hands.

Casey glances instinctively toward the sound before looking back at me.

“I trust you with my daughter. Why would I be hesitant about trusting you with my credit card?”

Casey shrugs. “I could blow thousands on something frivolous like gold toilet paper.”

I fight the smile. “It’s monitored.”

That almost earns me a smile.

Almost.

“Of course it is.”

“It’s also practical for you to have access to a card.”

“Fine. I can keep receipts.”

“I expect you to.”

A quiet breath leaves her somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement before her gaze drops back to the card resting between us.

She doesn’t touch it immediately. “Most people would just reimburse me,” she says quietly.

“I’m not most people.”

“No,” she murmurs softly. “You really aren’t.”

There’s no flirtation in the words. If anything, she sounds tired.

That unsettles me more than resistance would have. “Use the card,” I say, because I don’t know what else to do with the feeling.

Her fingers finally close around it slowly, carefully, like it weighs more than it should.

Maybe it does.

“Okay,” she says after a moment.

Simple. Honest. Cautious in a way that makes acceptance feel less like agreement and more like trust offered carefully against instinct.

I find myself watching her for a second too long, my attention catching on the faint marker streak across the side of her wrist and the way the evening light softens the gold in her hair.

She notices.

Of course she notices.