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I say nothing.

I’m too tired for this.

Too raw.

Too aware that Nathaniel’s mouth was on mine minutes ago and Audrey can probably see every place he touched me.

Her smile widens. “Don’t look so wounded. Surely you knew this was how it would end.”

I lift my chin. “Move.”

She raises her brows. “Excuse me?”

“I said move.”

The surprise in her face is almost worth the terror in my chest.

Almost.

Then her expression hardens. “You really think you matter now.”

I should walk away.

I know I should.

Every sensible part of me says to push past her, keep my head down, go to my room, lock the door, and survive the next hour.

But I’m so tired of bowing my head.

So tired of being mistreated by this woman while she fawns over Charlotte and Tiffany.

“I don’t think anything,” I say. “I’m trying to leave.”

“No.” Audrey steps closer. “You’re trying to pretend this is something it isn’t.”

“What is it, then?”

Her eyes flash.

And it hits me all at once, so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

Audrey is jealous.

Of me.

Of what Nathaniel gives me. His attention. His hunger.

Does Audrey have feelings for him? Or maybe for Arthur?

“You filthy little idiot,” she says, walking into the room. “You think because Nathaniel Vexley put his hands on you, that makes you special? Men like him touch things like you because it amuses them. Because you’re available. Because you can’t say no in any way that matters.”

My stomach knots. “You have no idea what happened between us.”

“Oh, I think I have a very good idea.”

I draw in a deep breath. “Get out of my way.”

“No.”