Chapter 32: Cracks in the Mask

Ariana should have looked away.

Should have ignored the weight of Leila's stare, kept her fingers where they were, leaned in closer to Ryan—finished what she started.

But she didn't.

Her hand fell away from his chest.

Ryan frowned. "Ari?"

Ariana forced a smile. "I need a drink."

She didn't wait for his response, slipping through the crowd toward the bar.

She could still feel it—the heat of Leila's gaze burning into her back.

Ariana exhaled sharply, gripping the counter. Get it together.

"What's your poison?" the bartender asked.

"Something strong."

A glass slid in front of her, amber liquid sloshing slightly.

She took a sip. Burning. Bitter. Perfect.

"You're slipping."

Ariana didn't flinch. Didn't turn.

She didn't have to.

Leila's voice was unmistakable.

Calm. Amused. Sharp enough to cut.

Ariana smirked, raising her glass. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Leila slid onto the stool beside her, eyes gleaming. "I should be asking you that. Running from something?"

Ariana laughed, light and careless. "Please. What would I have to run from?"

Leila leaned in slightly. "Good question."

Ariana took another sip, heart hammering.

She hated this. Hated that Leila could see through her so easily.

She set her glass down. "If you came over just to psychoanalyze me, don't bother. I'm fine."

Leila smirked. "Oh, I know."

She reached forward—traced the rim of Ariana's glass with a single finger.

Slow. Deliberate.

Ariana's breath caught.

Leila tilted her head. "But tell me, Ariana…"

She met Ariana's gaze, something dark flickering in her eyes.

"If you're so fine… why do you look like you're about to drown?"

Ariana's pulse spiked.

Because maybe, for the first time—she was.