Heather stepped out of the mansion, the cool night air brushing against her skin, but it did little to cool the heat still lingering from that kiss.
She pressed her fingers against her lips absentmindedly, as if checking if they were truly as soft as Caius had said.
She hated him for that.
Not because it was bad—far from it. But because he had the power to make her feel things she wasn't supposed to. She was already caught between trying to meet Alex's ever-looming expectations and not spiraling too deep into whatever twisted game she and Caius were playing.
What if he asked for more? Something more... personal? More binding?
The thought made her squint, her stomach knotting at the possibility. But tonight wasn't about Caius. Tonight was about presence. Making a statement. The party was one of the most anticipated pre-gala events of the year, and Heather refused to be the quiet name whispered in envy, she wanted to be the name spoken aloud.
