Chapter 71

The atmosphere was laden with an unspoken tension, a crackling charge that made every moment feel stretched thin. Violet's hands trembled ever so slightly as she clasped them together beneath the table, her eyes fixed on Trent, her enigmatic boss. The room's dim lighting cast elongated shadows across the dining space, and the faint clink of his spoon against the bowl was the only sound breaking the silence. Violet silently willed him to take another sip of the herbal concoction she'd so painstakingly prepared. She had followed Sienna's bold advice to the letter, though every step of the plan had left her more anxious than the last. Now, all that remained was the hope that Trent wouldn't probe too deeply into the unusual taste of the soup.

But of course, that was too much to ask.

Trent set his spoon down, the metallic clatter against the porcelain bowl ringing in Violet's ears like an accusation. He leaned back in his chair, his relaxed posture a sharp contrast to the intensity of his gaze. His arms rested behind his head, fingers interlocked, while his piercing eyes studied her with a glint of curiosity—and mischief. The corners of his mouth curved upward in the faintest of smiles, as if he were savoring an unspoken joke.

"So," he drawled, his deep voice breaking the silence, "are you going to admit it? You like me, don't you?"

Violet's heart stopped. For a moment, the world seemed to tilt sideways, and she could scarcely believe what she'd heard. The blood rushed to her cheeks, and her throat tightened. Her mind scrambled for a response, but her traitorous mouth betrayed her before she could think.

"Yes… I mean, wait! What did you just say?" she stammered, her voice climbing an octave in panic. Her wide eyes met his, and the teasing glint in his expression only made her blush harder. "No! I—I wasn't even listening properly," she added hastily, hoping to backtrack.

Trent's chuckle was low and rich, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. It was the kind of laugh that carried both amusement and a knowing confidence, as if he'd already unraveled every secret she was trying so desperately to keep hidden.

"I think you just confessed your feelings, Violet," he teased, rising from his chair with a languid stretch. His movements were effortless, his presence commanding. He towered over her, and for a moment, she felt completely exposed, as though he could see right through her feeble denials. "Well, now that you've made that clear and I've had my… interesting soup, I'm going to take a shower."

Without waiting for her to respond, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Violet watched him go, her pulse still racing. When his tall, confident figure finally disappeared from sight, she let out a long, shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She sank onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands.

"What just happened?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. The events of the evening played over in her mind like a surreal dream—or perhaps a nightmare. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. She had only wanted to follow Sienna's advice and get Trent to… well, what exactly? Be more open? Show a softer side? Admit something? Now, instead, he seemed to have flipped the script entirely, leaving her flustered and off-balance.

Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Sienna earlier that afternoon. Sienna had been brimming with confidence, her bright eyes sparkling as she presented the small bag of herbal powder with a flourish.

"Trust me, honey," Sienna had said, her tone dripping with assurance. "This blend is just what he needs. It'll bring out his true colors, guaranteed. All you have to do is mix it in—he'll never know the difference."

"Sienna, are you sure about this?" Violet had asked, skeptical but intrigued. She'd examined the powder, its faintly earthy scent tickling her nose. "What if he notices? Or… I don't know, what if it doesn't work?"

"It'll work," Sienna had said with a wink. "Just trust me."

Now, sitting on the sofa, Violet wasn't so sure. She'd followed the plan exactly, but instead of revealing any hidden depths, the evening had spiraled into an emotional minefield. The worst part was that she couldn't tell whether Trent was being serious or just toying with her. His teasing demeanor made it impossible to gauge his true intentions.

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Trent's footsteps. He was coming back. Panic surged through her as she realized she was still holding the glass of water she'd poured earlier. Acting on impulse, she quickly added another dose of the herbal powder, stirring it until it dissolved completely. The water turned clear again, its appearance innocuous.

Just as she set the glass on the coffee table, Trent appeared, leaning casually over the back of the sofa. His sudden proximity made her jump, nearly spilling the water in her haste to compose herself.

"What are you up to over there?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. His gaze shifted from her face to the glass, and then back again. The faintest smirk played on his lips, as if he'd caught her red-handed.

Violet's heart hammered in her chest. She forced a nervous laugh, fumbling for an explanation. "Oh, um, just… getting some water. Nothing special."

Trent's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, to her utter dismay, he reached for the glass.