Page 159 of Problematic

I turned my head, studying what little he gave me. White hair damp from steam. His mouth. The exposed center of his chin. Black points cutting down either side, hiding the corners of his mouth and most of his jaw while the rest of his face disappeared behind the mask. The thought clicked into place. “You’re related to Lux,” I said.

His body went rigid under me.

I lifted my head. “You have to be.”

Silence.

I pushed on, because my mouth ignored danger when curiosity had the wheel. “White hair. Nightmare power. Control issues. Tower. Vale. The money. The whole old-blood murder garden thing. Brothers? Cousins? Secret twin? Weird Lux Corp basement clone experiment?”

His hand stilled on my arm. The bathwater lapped softly against the tub. “What makes you say that?”

“Everything. This is Lux Tower. Vale listens when you talk. You have access to this penthouse, the wards like you, and you won’t tell me your name. That screams family drama.”

A faint breath left him. Almost a laugh. Almost not. “If I were related to him,” he asked, “would that scare you?”

“Honestly?” I said. “No. Lux is terrifying, but this city would eat itself alive without someone terrifying at the top. You being connected to him makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. You move like someone no one says no to.”

“You say no to me constantly.”

“That’s because I have a death wish and bad taste in men.”

His chest shook once. “Lucky for me.”

“So?” I nudged. “Are you going to tell me, or should I start a conspiracy board? Why My Stalker Is Definitely Related To Lux Draven: A visual journey with string, screenshots, and emotional instability.”

His hand resumed its slow path over my arm. “Lux and I share history,” he said. “Enemies. Blood. Obligations.”

I sighed. “So that’s a do-not-dig-there-yet.”

His fingers tightened briefly around my wrist. “We need to talk first. Later. I promise.”

“One more thing,” I muttered.

His hand paused. “Yes?”

“If you bought me all those special editions and alphabetized them by title instead of by author, we’re going to have a problem.”

His laugh filled the bathroom, warm against my back.

Chapter 23

Lux

The hem hit the tops of her thighs, her hair damp from the bath, cheeks flushed from the steam and whatever hunger she kept pretending she had under control. She stood barefoot in the middle of my bedroom with one hand on her hip, glaring at the mask.

“I’m serious,” she said. “You’re naked under a towel and still wearing that thing. That’s not normal.”

“Since when is any of this”—I waved a hand—“me, you, this . . . normal.”

She blew out a breath. “Obviously, the internet sleuths were right. Fucking crazy is fun.”

I dropped the towel.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re exhausting.”