My fingers tighten around the phone 97

Emma’s POV
I scrutinized my reflection in the mirror, tapping my cheeks to ensure my makeup was flawlessly set. Tonight’s charity
opera was crucial for me, and I needed to look impeccable. I blew a kiss at my reflection, admiring the image I’d
meticulously crafted. Tonight, I would win Ethan’s heart.
My plan was simple: show Ethan what a perfect Luna I would make. And if Leo actually brought Aria as his date, even
better. Ethan would see his precious Aria claimed by another, and with me standing beside him, he’d realize I was the one
he should choose.
“Emma?” Ethan’s voice echoed from the foyer. He sounded impatient. I smiled to myself. If he insisted on giving me a
separate invitation, then he’d have to deliver it personally. I’d deliberately avoided him several times, ensuring he would
have to bring the invitation himself before the event. This way, I could ride with him in his luxury car, letting everyone see
us arrive together. He would help me out of the car, giving me the perfect opportunity to nestle against him, creating the
perfect “accidental” photo opportunity. That photograph would become wonderful gossip material, further damaging
whatever was between Ethan and Aria. I could almost imagine the headlines: “Shadow Fang Alpha Finally Found His
Luna?”
“Emma!” Ethan called again.
“In my room!” I replied, deliberately making my voice light and melodious. I waited patiently for him to walk to my room.
I hoped he might catch me in a state of undress, see my magnificent body. I had worked hard to sculpt this figure, and it
deserved to be appreciated and desired. Ethan was a man, and a perfect body was any man’s weakness.
Ethan stopped outside the door and knocked. God, why was he always such a gentleman? Would it kill him to just walk in
and see me? I unzipped the garment bag containing my gown and called over my shoulder, “Come in, I’m almost ready.”
I deliberately lowered my volume for the second half of the sentence.
Ethan pushed the door open, his gaze sweeping over my strategically exposed body for a fraction of a second before his
eyes went flat and cold. Not even a flicker of desire. Not a single catch in his breath. Nothing. I let out a practiced little
squeal, my hand flying to cover my barely concealed chest in a gesture I’d perfected in front of my mirror—the perfect
blend of shock and secret pleasure.
“Oh! Ethan!” I gasped, letting my voice tremble just so.
Ethan spun around immediately, presenting me with the rigid line of his back. His shoulders might as well have been
carved from stone beneath his tailored jacket. He didn’t even have the decency to sneak a second glance! What kind of
man was he?
“Don’t worry, Emma,” he said, his voice as dry as desert sand as he held up the cream-colored invitation between two
fingers like it was something distasteful. “I’m just dropping off your invitation. Come out when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” I cooed, raising my pitch to that breathy, little-girl voice that made most men fall over themselves. I let the
silk wrap I’d been holding fall completely, revealing even more skin. “But it’s perfectly fine if you see my body, Ethan.
After all, everything I have belongs to you.” I glided toward him, each step calculated to maximize the sway of my hips.
Ethan’s shoulders went from rigid to positively glacial. He stepped away so abruptly he nearly stumbled, putting distance
between us as if I were contagious. His green eyes flashed with annoyance as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.
I pouted, trailing my fingertip down my own collarbone. “You look so tense, Ethan. I thought I might help you… relax
before we leave.” I deliberately lowered my voice to a husky whisper on the word “relax,” letting it hang between us with
obvious meaning.
Ethan’s frown deepened, lines appearing between his brows as he exhaled sharply through his nose. “Get dressed,
Emma,” he ordered, each word clipped and final. “You’ll be late. I’ll see you there.” He thrust the invitation toward me like
a shield.
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I ignored the extended envelope, pivoting dramatically toward my gown instead. “Oh, but I thought we could ride
together!” I exclaimed with wide, innocent eyes, pressing my hand to my chest in feigned distress. “I completely forgot to
arrange a car. How silly of me!” I fluttered my lashes, the picture of helpless femininity.
“Why didn’t you arrange a car?” Ethan’s voice had dropped dangerously low, irritation radiating from him in almost visible waves.
I stepped closer, close enough to smell his cologne, and reached up to fiddle with his lapel. “I was just so careless, I’m
sorry,” I sighed, looking up at him through my lashes. “Even though I’m not your official date, couldn’t you at least give me a ride? Please?” My fingers lingered on the expensive fabric, tracing small circles.
Ethan’s hand shot up to capture mine, removing it from his jacket with barely concealed revulsion. He stepped back,
putting the vanity table between us like a barrier.
“Fine, but stay away from me,” he bit out, the single syllable practically vibrating with resignation. “Just. This. Once.” He
punctuated each word by tossing the invitation onto the vanity with enough force to make my perfume bottles rattle. “I’ll
wait for you in the car.” Without waiting for my response, he turned on his heel and strode out, the door clicking shut
behind him with pointed restraint—clearly, he’d wanted to slam it.
I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Even his anger was perfect.
“You’re so kind, Ethan, always so thoughtful.” I quickly dressed and grabbed my purse. I double-checked that my bag
contained everything I needed for tonight. Everything had to go perfectly, but if not, this was my backup plan. I took one
last look in the mirror before taking the elevator down to the lobby.
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Once we were in the car and driving, Ethan repeatedly tugged at his collar. “Let’s be clear—you are not my date. I’m
attending because my father requested it, not as your boyfriend, date, or whatever you think we are.” Ethan was sweating
heavily, still pulling at his collar.
“I understand exactly what this is,” I gave him a sweet, vulnerable smile that I knew men found irresistible. “You look
uncomfortable. Would you like some water?”
Ethan didn’t respond, merely turning to gaze out the window with a clenched jaw as I moved toward the built-in minibar.
I could feel his eyes deliberately avoiding me in the reflection of the tinted glass. Perfect. I selected a crystal bottle of
sparkling water, making a show of opening it right in front of him—letting the satisfying pop of the cork and gentle fizz
fill the tense silence between us.
With practiced elegance, I poured the bubbling liquid into two crystal flutes, my back partially turned to him. My fingers
dipped into my purse with the precision of a surgeon, extracting the small sachet of sedatives. The seller had promised
that for a man his size, figure about an hour before it really hits.
When I turned back, Ethan had pressed his forehead against the cool window, eyes closed, the picture of masculine
vulnerability that sent a thrill through me. His dark lashes cast shadows on his sharp cheekbones, and the hard line of his
jaw was accentuated by the faint stubble he hadn’t quite managed to shave completely. A lock of his thick hair had fallen
across his forehead, making him look younger.
God, he was magnificent—all hard angles and barely contained strength.
I set down the glasses and positioned myself strategically, placing one manicured hand on the leather seat beside him as
I knelt down, the movement causing my dress to dip forward. The position was deliberately calculated—head tilted up
toward him, back arched just so, giving him an unobstructed view of my cleavage when he opened his eyes. I’d practiced
this pose in the mirror, knowing exactly how the shadows and light would emphasize my best features.
“Ethan? Have some water.” I whispered in my most sensual voice. Ethan’s eyes snapped open, staring at the glass I
offered him. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Just a bit hungover,” he mumbled before draining the glass in one gulp. I smiled as I placed my hand over his.
Ethan glared at me for a moment before yanking his hand from beneath mine