And Lilith…?
Lilith stood frozen, her sunglasses sliding down just enough to reveal the fire behind them.
Her eyes turned dark, quietly furious.
The kind of dark that made people regret being born pretty.
Gray, meanwhile, looked down at Clara's hand. He didn't move. His face unreadable.
But Lilith knew him.
And he knew she was watching.
Gray looked down at the delicate hand on his chest.
And without saying a word, he took a slow, precise step to the side—just far enough that Clara's hand slipped off like it never belonged there in the first place.
The shift was smooth.
Polite.
Cold.
Clara blinked, her smile flickering for a split second.
But she recovered fast.
Her expression changed—not all at once, but in small, sour edges that curled around her lips. She turned slightly, brushing her hair back as if to pretend nothing happened. But Lilith saw it. That quiet bitterness in her eyes. That flash of embarrassment she tried to swallow.
And then...Clara started talking.
