Chapter 85: The Edge of Control
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Verbena sat before her vanity, the golden glow of the candlelight flickering against her skin.
She hated this.
The way her heart still pounded from that kiss. The way her mind kept replaying the way Theodore's lips moved against hers, the way his hands had burned against her waist.
It was a mistake.
A moment of weakness.
A crack in the armor she had so carefully crafted.
With an exasperated sigh, she reached for the delicate perfume bottle beside her mirror, dabbing the sweet floral scent onto her wrists and collarbone, as if it could cleanse away his scent—the intoxicating mix of cedarwood and musk that still lingered on her.
As if it could erase the way her lips still tingled from his touch.
No.
She wouldn't let herself falter now.
She had spent too much time planning her revenge.
If Theodore thought she was his, he would soon learn just how wrong he was.
The game wasn't over yet.
It had only just begun.
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Theodore's Turmoil
Across the estate, Theodore stood in his dimly lit study, a glass of whiskey in his hand, untouched.
His fingers tightened around the glass as his mind reeled.
That kiss.
That damn kiss.
Verbena had kissed him back.
For a fleeting moment, he thought—hoped—that she would finally admit the truth. That this fight between them was nothing but a futile attempt to ignore the inevitable.
That she still belonged to him.
But she had lied.
She always did.
He let out a bitter chuckle, downing the whiskey in one gulp. The burn did nothing to drown out the ache clawing at his chest.
If she wanted a war, he would give her one.
If she wanted to pretend she felt nothing, he would make her confess.
No matter what it took.
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The Next Day: A Dangerous Dance
Verbena walked through the grand halls of the estate, every step measured, every movement poised.
The servants lowered their heads as she passed, their whispers hushed but ever-present.
"The Duke and Duchess…"
"I heard they fought again."
"But did you see how he looked at her during dinner last night?"
"His Grace has never looked at anyone that way before…"
Verbena ignored them.
They didn't know anything.
They didn't know that last night, she had stood in front of her mirror, fingers ghosting over her lips, cursing herself for allowing him to get under her skin.
They didn't know that she had barely slept, tormented by the memory of his touch.
And most of all, they didn't know that despite everything, a part of her still wanted him.
She hated it.
She hated him.
But she hated herself even more.
Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the figure approaching until it was too late.
A strong hand grasped her wrist, pulling her to a stop.
Her breath hitched.
"Theodore—"
His golden eyes burned into hers. "Come with me."
A shiver ran down her spine at the commanding edge in his voice.
She yanked her wrist free. "If you have something to say, say it here."
His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. Only determination.
"Oh, I will," he murmured. "But not here."
Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand again and led her away.
Straight to his chambers.
And this time…
She didn't fight him.
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