Page 14 of The Encore’s Crown

His face goes still. I should feel victorious. I do, a little, but the satisfaction is tangled now, knotted with something I don't want to name.

He looks away first, reaching for his towel. “You're the one that came in here to start something.”

“I came in here to work out. I didn't know you'd be here.” Maybe I did. Maybe I even hoped so, but he doesn't need to know that.

“Sure.”

I stand, grabbing my own towel. “You’re very paranoid.”

“No,” he says, folding the towel in his hand. “I’m observant.”

The way he says it makes my stomach dip. Kiri always looks like he doesn't care about anything, but he sees everything. He saw the weight before it got away from me, my grip, the tremor. The game. Maybe he sees the part I’m trying to hide too.

“Thanks for the spot,” I say brightly, already stepping away. “All done.”

His eyes narrow slightly, like he hears the change.

“Natalia.”

I glance back. “What?”

He looks like he has five things to say and doesn't trust any of them.

“Don’t lift that heavy alone,” he says finally.

That’s what he chooses. I smile, sweetly. “Don't pretend you care about what I do all of a sudden, Kiri. It hasn't bothered you in the last year. I'll be just fine.”

His mouth presses into a line. “Okay, whatever.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

We stare at each other across the bench, both of us pretending this is about weightlifting. Then I turn on my heel and head straight for the door, my heart hammering, my thoughts racing ahead of me like they’re trying to escape. I fling the gym door open and move fast, almost running back toward the elevators, refusing to look back, refusing to let him see anything else.

I won't let him get to me like this. Not now, not ever. He lost that chance the minute he let Rafe tell him what to do. The minute he decided I was too young or fragile, like I didn’t know exactly what kind of fire I was walking toward. This was supposed to be simple, controlled. An easy game I knew how to win.

But for one second, when his voice softened around my name, it wasn’t just a game anymore.

Chapter 7

In Tune

Natalia

Iget ready for soundcheck with purpose. Not the hormonal, reactive energy of last night, not the heat that crept under my skin and tried to derail me. This is different. This is intentional.

I stand in front of the mirror longer than necessary, not because I’m unsure, but because I’m recalibrating. The outfit matters, but not in the way it did yesterday. Today isn’t about shock or spectacle. Today is about disarmament. I choose something effortless, flattering without screaming for attention, the kind of look that says I woke up like this and didn’t need to try. Hair loose, makeup light, the sort of soft polish that invites conversation instead of confrontation.

I smile at my reflection, practiced and thoughtful.

Last night rattled me. I don’t like that. I don’t like how easily he slipped past my defenses, how quickly my body remembered things my brain was busy denying. That can’t happen again. So I'll just change the game. Instead of cold, I’ll be warm, trading distance for closeness. I'll stop being silent and start being relentless.

I’m going to be friendly, doe-eyed and in awe. I'll act innocent, open and curious. I’ll ask questions before he can ask himself any. I’ll laugh at his sarcasm, lean in, and listen like I care. It'll keep him off balance, too busy responding to notice how carefully I’m steering. He won’t know which version of me he’s dealing with, and that confusion will do more damage than any icy glare ever could.

This angle is safer, cooler. I won’t give him space to analyze me, because I’ll be filling every quiet moment with warmth and interest and just enough intimacy to make him question everything. I’ll poke and pry, reach in gently, like I’m checking the seams of something fragile. I’ll toy with his heart until he forgets where it is, then set it down like a plaything and walk away without a backward glance.

He won’t see it coming.