Caius.
He sat across the room, his brooding presence was impossible to ignore. Their eyes met, and her heart twisted. He shouldn't be here. Especially not at a secluded restaurant like this.
He was with someone; a date. Heather knew it was a woman, given the pair of heels under the table.
But there was a waiter taking their order, in the process, he was standing infront of the date. When he shifted, and Heather caught a glimpse of the woman sitting with Caius.
Heather didn't miss how her dress barely counted as one—tiny and tight, riding up her thighs like she wanted the whole room to notice.
Her legs crossed, and her hand twirled a strand of brown hair around her finger. Her chest pushed up, revealing her front meat. Though her smile was lazy and satisfied, her dress screamed "fuck me." The look said "he might."
She looked at Caius again. His stare hadn't wavered. His eyes were locked on her — dark and furious.
