Page 87 of Coveted

I have to rid myself of this helpless, frustrated feeling. He must learn that he can’t control everything I do.

“Godspeed,” says Juliette. “And be careful.”

Before I chicken out, I weave around the room to find a suitable target.

My plan is simple. I’ll flirt with another man in front of Lucan and the gala guests. He’ll see I don’t belong to him, and there’ll be nothing he can do about it without publicly shattering his highly controlled, all-powerful façade.

As I pass through the wafts of expensive perfume and melodic conversations, I don’t look in Lucan’s direction, because that would defeat the point. I relax my features like I don’t feel the weight of his attention dragging across my skin. Like I don’t know exactly where he’s standing without checking.

Okay, focus. Find a hot, age-appropriate guy to flirt with.

I don’t want to accidentally hit on a classmate’s dad or a university faculty member.

As if summoned by the thought, the Darkbloom student advisor steps in my path.

Chuck Fairchild looks right at home among the elite of Ember Falls, with his white-tie tuxedo and wholesome good looks.

“Miss Marlowe,” he says. “How wonderful to cross paths with you.”

“Thank you,” I say, flexing my fingers nervously. “And you. The gala’s fantastic, isn’t it?”

Please get out of the way, Chuck. I have a controlling heir to enrage.

Chuck raises his palms to the glimmering ceiling. “Darkbloom is heavily involved with the Heritage Foundation and the gala. We’ve been helping with preparations here at the museum.”

“Well, it’s lovely,” I say. “Very pretty.”

His expression turns serious, the friendly smile replaced by a pinched brow. “How are you doing? First you found poor Parker’s body, and I heard you were attacked in Ember Falls?”

“Yeah.” I wave a hand. “It’s fine. I mean, not fine, obviously. But I’m okay.”

“I pray so.” His eyes scan my face. “You know, students sometimes find themselves in troubled waters they can’t navigate alone. I can only help them if they let me in. I do wish you would.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, my mind firmly on Lucan.

Chuck lowers his voice. “Do you have any idea who’s behind these attacks? Any leads?”

“The police know everything I do,” I say, shrugging. “Please excuse me.”

Running my eyes over the guests, I realize there’s no shortage of candidates for my scheme. The hall brims with polished, well-dressed, indecently handsome men.

A guy with auburn hair and an easy smile ends a conversation with an older couple. As he turns away from them, I continue forward, so it almost looks like we run into each other by chance. My hands collide with his torso and I nearly step on his foot.

“Sorry!” I say. “My fault.”

His smile widens when he realizes I’m holding his gaze. “Not at all.”

“Hi,” I say.

We exchange names, polite words regarding majors, mildly intriguing facts about the event.

He seems like a perfectly great guy who would never order me to my knees and command that I swallow his cum.

I should like him for that.

As if by accident, I let my hand brush his sleeve. I laugh at something that isn’t funny. While other guests move around us, I lean in closer than necessary.

I shouldn’t be thinking about Lucan. Not when I’m trying to prove how insignificant he really is. Yet there’s a pull at the back of my awareness, forceful and insistent, in the shape of him.