Page 343 of Bad Prince

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Isa’s smile tightens—just enough to show she felt that.

And me?

I sit there.

Calm.

Collected.

All in.

Tristan goes still.

Then slowly—deliberately—he removes Isa’s arm from his.

Not rough.

But firm.

Final.

He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest, broad shoulders tightening under his t-shirt, jaw ticking once.

His eyes lock on mine.

Dark. Sharp. Dangerous.

“What game are you playing now, Stella?”

His voice is low.

Controlled.

But there’s something under it.

Something heated.

Something that says he doesn’t trust me.

And worse?

Something that says he’s protecting her.

I tilt my head slightly, studying him like he’s the problem I’m finally ready to solve.

“What, I can’t change my mind?”

His gaze doesn’t waver.

“Not like this.”

A beat.

Then his eyes flick to Isa, softening just a fraction.

And I see it.

The care.

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