I blinked, my lips parting.
She continued before I could speak.
“Eternity Falls might kiss your feet, Mr. St. Germain,” she said, every syllable cutting through the air. “But I will not. I’m not from here. I didn’t come here to fawn. And whatever games you’re planning, let me be clear. I. Am. Not. Interested.”
Pity. I did enjoy a good fawning now and then.
Her lovely hazel eyes bored into mine. “You came here tonight to intimidate me. But you don’t frighten me. Nor does your name. Or your reputation.”
I almost laughed. I’d heard all this before. Countless times from countless people over my four hundred years of life. They always thought they could stand up to me, beat me at my own game, but they never did.
I itched to seize control of this conversation, to prick her back with my own insults. But I restrained myself. It wasn’t often someone spoke so openly and honestly in front of me anymore. I found her rather refreshing. Amusing, even. And I wasn’t often amused these days.
“I know vampires like you,” she said.
I lifted my brows at that.
“My former mate for instance. Like you, he’s charming and elegant. Everyone worshipped him. But he was also power-drunk. Sound familiar?”
A familiar accusation. And truthfully, one I wore with pride. As far as descriptions went, it was fairly complimentary.
But then her tone shifted.
“Eventually, his mask came off,” she said. “And he revealed his true nature. I learned that under all that silk and polish, you’re all the same.”
I doubted that.
“You’re all monsters in well-tailored suits.”
And just like that, I froze.
Others had called me a monster before—enemies, rivals, even lovers in the end. I’d never cared. Not once. But hearing it from her, in that voice, with such certainty…
It hit deeper. Sharper.
Not because I thought she was wrong. But because, for the first time in a very long time, I cared if she saw me that way.
And worse…she hadn’t only called me a monster.
She compared me to him.
Her former mate. The one who’d bankrupted her family and ruined her reputation—all things I’d done in the past. But he’d also cheated on her, broken the trust of the person he was supposed to love the most. That was something I would never do. That level of cruelty surpassed anything I had ever done before. I never pretended to be a good man, but that she could look at me and see him—well, it twisted something in my chest.
It also gave me a sudden urge to crack that bastard’s skull open for hurting her.
“I’m not here to dance around egos,” she said, her voice dragging me back to the present. “I’m not here to charm or claw my way into your good graces. I’ve played that game—and lost. More than I care to recount. So, if you think you can waltz into my bar, my home, and try to intimidate me? You’re sorely mistaken.”
She turned away from me and walked behind her bar. I tracked her every step, not out of suspicion, but because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, damn it. She was riveting, and I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“I’m here to build something for myself, Mr. St. Germain,” she continued, picking up a smudged glass and inspecting it. “Something that’s mine. If that steps on your little toes, then I apologize. But your life, your business, your existence, has nothing to do with me.”
She glanced up, and the candlelight caught her hazel eyes.
“Miss Laurent—” I started, finally breaking my silence.
She set the glass down, once again cutting me off, and leaned lightly against the counter. “You have your kingdom, The Crimson Veil. Let it remain yours. I’ve no intention of trespassing.” She nodded toward the door—just slightly. “And I’d appreciate the same courtesy.”
Her meaning was clear. This was her territory now, and I wasn’t welcome.
