Page 36 of The Encore’s Crown

Then his eyes shift to Natalia’s empty chair.

Back to me.

His jaw tightens by half a millimeter.

Fantastic. Exactly what I need. Rafe figuring it out before I’ve even managed to get my breathing under control. I grab the menu and pretend to study the dessert options. Matcha something, black sesame something else. I read the same line four times and absorb none of it.

Act normal.

Act like I didn’t just cross the line we drew for a reason, pretend my body isn’t still reacting to the memory of her against me beneath a table full of people who would have several strong opinions about it.

Thank God for tablecloths. This is going to be the longest dinner of my life.

Natalia's still missing. A minute passes, maybe two.

Long enough for panic to start replacing the heat.

Does she regret it? Maybe the minute that door closed, she looked at herself in the mirror and realized what a mistake I am. What if she’s wiping my mouth from hers, furious that I took the bait, pissed that I touched her after I was the one who insisted we could only be friends. Maybe she’s crying. No. Natalia would rather chew through drywall than cry where someone might catch her, especially over me. Unless today—

Fuck.

Today.

Piotr.

The anniversary.

Guilt slides cold beneath all that heat. What the hell is wrong with me? I kissed her on the worst day of her year. I let jealousy turn me stupid, then shoved her against a wall and kissed her like what I wanted mattered more than anything else she was carrying.

Did she want it?

Yes. I know she did.

I know what I felt. The way she pulled me closer wasn’t confusion. The sound she made wasn’t anger. But wanting a kiss for thirty wild seconds doesn’t mean she wants everything that comes after it. It doesn’t mean she wants me near her grief. It doesn’t mean she wants me at all once she has room to think. My chest tightens. She might just be flustered or staring at her swollen mouth with that crooked little smile, replaying the moment I—

Nope. Not again.

Not with half the table looking at me like I’ve developed an extra head and Rafe quietly preparing to beat me to death with a sake bottle.

Mina tilts her head. “You all right? You look… tense.”

“Jet lag,” I say quickly. “Japan hates me.”

Ronan snorts. “Japan loves you. This is your highest popularity demographic according to Elise. All the girls here think he’s the hottest.”

Normally I’d tell him to shut the fuck up. Tonight, I barely hear him. Signe’s gaze lingers on Natalia’s empty chair before sliding to me. Her eyes narrow slightly, thoughtful rather than suspicious, like she’s noticing the shape of the absence instead of listening to the joke.

I take a drink of water. It tastes like cardiac arrest. Rafe leans back in his chair, casual in that very particular way he gets when he’s anything but.

“So,” he says lightly, tapping one finger against the stem of his glass. “How long before we send out a search party for Nat?”

He asks it like he already knows exactly what happened and wants to see whether I’m stupid enough to give anything away, any little tell.

The room doesn’t go silent, exactly. It thins. Conversations soften around the edges. Liv pauses with her hand around the sake bottle. Ronan stops tapping against the table. Even Kasia looks up.

My heart slams to a stop.

And then Natalia slips back in like nothing happened. Her timing is so perfect it has to be either divine intervention or pure chaos magic.