Page 54 of Lured By Shadows

Did he really think he could keep pushing like that? I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, flattening what little cleavage I had, and scoffed. “And if I tell you? Are you gonna get all jealous on me again?”

“I apologize,” he murmured, his voice dipping into exaggerated disappointment that instantly got on my nerves. “I should emphasize how will our wedding look, little lamb?”

Sir. We had not even gone on a proper date.

I turned to glare at him, ready to unload every thought clawing at my ribs, but I paused. The exhaustion beneath his smugness looked real tonight. The shadows under his eyes sat darker and deeper, as though he either hadn’t slept or simply refused to rest. Somehow, that only made him more unfairly attractive. I had the sudden urge to reach over and smooth some of that exhaustion away.

My jaw clenched hard enough to ache. I was getting played.

Culver didn’t care about me at all. He was teasing me because he enjoyed watching me react.

“Stop teasing me with your stupid one-liners that don’t mean a damn thing,” I snapped, keeping my voice low and edged. Even if the one-liners were, unfortunately, working a little. “Don’t forget that we hardly know each other.”

Something in his expression shifted at that.

He leaned back slowly in his chair and let out a measured breath, conceding just enough to acknowledge the blow without fully surrendering.

Then, before I could lose my nerve again, I finally asked the question that had been sitting heavily in my chest since yesterday.

“What were you doing,” I asked, forcing my voice into neutrality, “when I saw you driving away from school?”

I’d already brushed it aside once as coincidence or paranoia.

Now I wanted the truth.

15

Everything around us began to fade, as though the constant background noise of the world had been lowered just enough to leave only us sitting there. The soft clink of glasses and distant hum of voices drifting through the dining hall dulled into something far away, replaced by the steady pulse pounding in my ears. Ever since we met, he’d looked at me as though I weren't new to him at all, as though I were something known instead of someone he’d just met. Now that feeling suddenly made terrifying sense.

It would’ve been romantic if it weren’t actively destroying my peace of mind.

Culver watched me without speaking, his eyes tracking every shift in my expression: my brow, my cheekbones, the curve of my mouth, as though he were reading thoughts I hadn’t fully formed yet. Eventually, he let out a slow breath, and when he spoke, his voice softened.

“I was on my way to your home.”

There it was. The confirmation I’d been searching for.

I held his gaze, surprised by how steady I managed to stay while the truth settled heavily between us. “So you knew who I was this whole time?”

My voice didn’t shake, though I felt the tension everywhere else. Deep down, I’d already known the answer. I just needed him to say it aloud.

“Yes,” he answered easily, without hesitation, his tone lacking apology but not care. “I knew who you were, which is why I picked you up yesterday. Ira, I promise this was meant to be a nice surprise. If you’re upset, I can make it right.”

I should’ve felt relieved by the honesty. Maybe even validated. Instead, something inside me tightened painfully. “I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” I said quietly, my voice clipped despite the frustration simmering underneath.

Because it wasn’t anger.

It was humiliation. The deep, sinking kind that made you feel stupid for letting yourself hope in the first place. I wasn’t upset about the secret itself. I was upset that I’d fallen for him so quickly, only to realize it probably hadn’t meant the same thing to him at all. Culver didn’t like me. He pitied me. I could see it clearly now: the lonely girl who’d just moved across the world, someone his parents and my ma thought needed looking after.

A favor with benefits. And he’d played the role perfectly.

Maybe every lingering glance, every brush of his hand, every charged moment had been part of the act. Something polished enough to fool me into mistaking it for chemistry.

“You’re clearly upset about it,” he said, tilting his head slightly as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my arm.

A cold shiver raced up my skin at once, electric where he touched me. I flinched before I could stop myself, the reaction small but enough to remind me I was still trying to hold onto control while everything around me kept shifting.

“No,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t feel convincing even to me. “I’m just surprised.”