Page 35 of Gatsby's Starlet
They had taken her from me, left me in the dirt, walked away like it ended something, like it was done.
It wasn’t.
It just delayed it.
I picked up my phone, scrolling through messages, movements, information already in place, pieces set on a boardlong before anyone realized they were part of it, names and patterns and small details that most people would overlook.
One of them held my attention longer than the rest—Evie—not because she mattered, but because she was where I needed her to be, a small piece already in place, something that could be moved when necessary without complication.
I didn’t think about her beyond that.
There was no reason to.
She was a means, and that was all I required her to be.
A soft knock sounded at the door, pulling my attention just enough, and I didn’t look up from the screen as I reached for the knife resting beside it, the blade sliding easily into my hand as I tested the edge with my thumb, not enough to cut, just enough to feel how sharp it was, before setting it back down in the exact place it had been.
“Yeah.”
Ruby stepped inside, soft where everything else in my world was not, her smile careful, like she already understood more than she wanted to admit about the kind of room she had just walked into.
“Drago,” she said quietly, moving toward me.
My eyes lifted, moving over her without effort, taking in the details she thought mattered, the ones she thought would be enough, and the disappointment settled in the same place it always did.
In the right light, for a second… no. Not even close. No one would ever replace Zeynep.
“You have news?” I asked, letting her come close enough to touch me, because sometimes it was easier not to stop it than to deal with what came after.
“Yeah,” she said, wrapping her arms around me like she belonged there. “Gatsby took Evie to the clubhouse last night.”
“And?” I unwrapped her hands without force, just enough to remind her where she stood, and moved toward the bed.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t talked to her yet.”
I glanced back at her, the look enough on its own. “Then why the fuck are you here?”
She faltered, searching for something to give me. “I… wanted to see you.”
I picked up my phone again, pulling up the picture without thinking—Zeynep sitting on my bike, sunlight catching in her hair, looking like something that had never belonged in a world like mine in the first place.
For a moment, it hit warm. Then it settled into something colder. Something useful. Ruby shifted behind me, waiting, always waiting for something I was never going to give her. I set the phone down.
“Fine,” I said, my voice low, controlled, already gone from the moment before it could touch anything real. “Get the fuck over here.”
She moved quickly. She always did. And for a few minutes, I let the lie exist.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVIE STEPPED UPto the bar in that pink swing dress,and it had me thinking about all kinds of things, and none of those thoughts were fit for public.
Not because it showed too much—it didn’t. That wasn’t it. It was the way it moved when she did, rippling around her body. Sexy as hell.
I’d seen women dress for to look sexy. Plenty of them. But none had ever got me going like Evie did in that dress.
She got close enough that I could see her eyes shift over me, slow, steady, like she was taking her time with it instead of rushing past. Most people either stared too hard or didn’t look at all.
She just… looked.
