Page 345 of Bad Prince

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She straightens, pulling her shoulders back, chin lifting—Texas steel wrapped in sweetness.

“Okay,” she says, her drawl soft, controlled, but there’s an edge under it now. “I’m a straight shooter. I don’t do this… back and forth.”

Her eyes move between us.

Calculating.

“Cards on the table.”

The room feels like it’s shrinking.

“The way I see it,” she continues, “we’re either together… or we’re not.”

Her gaze locks on Tristan now.

“And if you are—I’m not a homewrecker,” I say quietly.

A beat.

Then—

“But I need you to hear me.” Isa voice softens, but the conviction sharpens. “She doesn’t make you happy.”

That hits.

Hard.

My jaw tightens.

Isa doesn’t look at me.

She doesn’t need to.

She’s talking to him.

“She always plays these games—pulls you in—pushes you away. Never choosing. Never fully letting you go. You can’t trust her. Not with your heart—the way you can me.”

Her hand lifts slightly, hovering near him but not touching this time.

“I’m here.”

A breath.

“And I’m real.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Unavoidable.

I exhale slowly, then straighten in my chair.

“Then I guess it’s my turn,” I say.

Both of them look at me.

“I’m not here to play games either.”

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