Bound by Lust

Kael barely reacted as the woman approached, her heels clicking against the marble floor with practiced confidence. She was breathtakingly beautiful—tall, with dark waves cascading over her shoulders, her emerald-green dress hugging every curve of her body like a second skin.

Esme didn't need to be told who she was.

She could tell just by the way the woman moved, by the way she looked at Kael with something possessive, something intimate.

"Kael," the woman purred again, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "It's been a while."

Kael didn't flinch, nor did he step away from her touch. He merely turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he studied her.

"Sophia," he acknowledged in a tone so devoid of warmth that Esme almost mistook it for indifference.

Almost.

Because there was something there—a familiarity. A history.

Esme felt her stomach tighten as Sophia's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," she teased, stepping just a little closer, her fingers trailing lazily down Kael's sleeve. "But I should've known better. You never avoid anything, do you?"

Kael didn't respond.

Didn't pull away.

Didn't even glance at Esme.

And that, more than anything, made her blood boil.

Sophia turned then, her gaze landing on Esme for the first time, as if finally acknowledging her existence. Her sharp eyes raked over her in quiet assessment, that smug, amused smile never faltering.

"And you must be Esme," she said sweetly, though there was nothing kind about the way she said it. "I've heard so much about you."

Esme forced a polite smile, though she could feel her jaw tighten. "All good things, I hope."

Sophia let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Oh, darling," she murmured, as if Esme had said something adorable. "Kael doesn't talk about his women."

The implication hit harder than Esme anticipated.

Before she could respond, Sophia turned her attention back to Kael, her fingers now resting boldly against his chest. "So tell me, darling, have you missed me?" she whispered, her voice sultry, intimate.

Esme expected Kael to push her away.

Expected him to at least acknowledge how inappropriate Sophia was being, especially in front of his fiancée.

But he didn't.

He just stood there.

Unmoved. Unbothered.

And Esme felt something snap inside her.

She had spent so much time convincing herself that she didn't care about Kael, that his cold demeanor didn't affect her.

But seeing him let another woman touch him so freely, so intimately, as if Esme wasn't even standing there—it hurt.

And she hated that it did.

Sophia's laughter was soft, knowing, as she leaned in just enough for her lips to brush against Kael's ear. "I still remember how you used to handle me, Kael," she whispered, just loud enough for Esme to hear. "Do you?"

Esme felt a sharp, irrational surge of jealousy, one that made her hands clench at her sides. She hated Sophia in that moment. Hated Kael for letting this happen.

She didn't realize how tense she was until Kael finally spoke.

"Sophia," he said, voice low, almost bored.

But it was the way he finally removed her hand from his chest that made something flicker in Esme's stomach.

"I don't recall allowing you to touch me."

Sophia's lips parted slightly in surprise, though she masked it quickly with a chuckle. "Oh, Kael," she sighed, shaking her head. "You never did like to play games, did you?"

Kael didn't respond.

Instead, his gaze flickered toward Esme for the first time that evening, his expression unreadable.

There was no apology in his eyes. No guilt.

Just a quiet, measured intensity that made her breath hitch.

Esme knew this wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

****. ****. ****.