CHAPTER 20

Naarah's breath came in shallow bursts, her heart hammering against her ribs as Peter's words hung in the air.

"You want me. Say it."

She should push him away.

She should deny it.

But his presence was intoxicating, his body so close, his scent invading her senses. The heat of his hands on the desk beside her made her skin prickle with awareness.

He was too confident. Too sure of her.

And the worst part?

He wasn't wrong.

Naarah swallowed, trying to steady herself.

"I don't—" she started, but Peter tilted his head, his gaze sharp.

"Don't lie to me," he murmured.

His voice was a low, dangerous thing, a challenge wrapped in seduction.

Naarah clenched her hands into fists at her sides.

She couldn't give him the satisfaction.

Even if every part of her body was betraying her.

"I'm not lying," she managed. "You just think you know everything."

Peter's lips twitched.

That infuriating, knowing smirk.

The one that said he saw right through her.

"Is that so?" He reached out, a single finger tracing a slow, deliberate line down her arm.

A shiver raced through her.

She hated how easily he got to her.

Hated how her body responded to his every move.

Peter leaned in, just enough for his breath to graze her cheek.

"You can keep pretending," he said, his voice like velvet and steel, "but we both know the truth."

His hand moved—

Slow, calculated—

Fingertips grazing the edge of her waist.

Naarah stiffened.

Not because she was afraid.

But because she wanted him to keep going.

And that terrified her.

With a sharp inhale, she jerked away, slipping out from between him and the desk.

She needed space.

Distance.

Anything to break the spell he had on her.

Peter let her go, but the gleam in his eyes told her he enjoyed this.

This push and pull.

This war between desire and restraint.

"Are you done?" she snapped, forcing her voice to be steady.

Peter exhaled, as if mildly amused. "For now."

For now?

Her hands balled into fists.

He was impossible.

Impossible and arrogant—

And dangerously alluring.

She needed to get out of there.

Now.

Naarah turned, heading for the door, but Peter's voice stopped her.

"You'll think about this."

She froze.

His words were confident.

Assured.

Like he knew what he was doing to her.

Her jaw clenched. "No, I won't."

Peter chuckled, the sound dark and teasing.

"Liar."

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob.

She refused to turn around.

Refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered he'd made her.

Instead, she threw the door open and walked out.

But even as she put distance between them, she knew the truth.

Peter was already under her skin.

And there was no escaping him now.

---

Later That Night – Naarah's Apartment

Naarah curled up on the couch, staring at the untouched tea in her hands.

She should be sleeping.

She wanted to sleep.

But every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was him.

The way he looked at her.

The heat in his touch.

The weight of his words.

"You want me. Say it."

Naarah groaned, pressing her hands to her face.

This was not happening.

She wasn't some lovestruck girl.

She wasn't weak.

And yet—

Her mind kept drifting back to him.

To the way he made her feel.

As if she was standing on the edge of something dangerous.

Something thrilling.

Something she wasn't ready for.

A sharp knock on the door made her jump.

She frowned.

Who the hell would visit her this late?

Setting down her tea, she padded across the room and unlocked the door.

The moment it swung open—

Her breath caught.

Peter.

Standing in her doorway.

Looking as lethal and composed as ever.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sweater.

"What are you doing here?"

Peter didn't answer right away.

Instead, he studied her.

His eyes swept over her loose sweater, her bare legs, the way her hair was slightly messy from lying on the couch.

Something dark flickered in his gaze.

Something dangerous.

Naarah swallowed.

"Peter—"

"I warned you," he murmured, stepping inside.

Her pulse skittered. "Warned me about what?"

He closed the door behind him, trapping her in the space between them.

"That you'd be thinking about me."

Naarah's breath hitched.

She should deny it.

Should shove him out the door.

But she couldn't move.

Peter reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

His fingers lingered.

Slow.

Gentle.

"You're not running this time," he murmured.

Naarah's knees felt weak.

She clenched her jaw.

"You want me to run?"

His lips curved. "No."

A beat of silence.

Tension thickened the air between them.

Then—

"Say it, Naarah," he murmured, his fingers skimming her jaw. "Say you want me."

She shouldn't.

She couldn't.

But her body was betraying her.

And Peter knew it.

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Her lips parted—

But before she could speak, her phone buzzed.

The spell shattered.

Naarah jerked back, her breath coming fast.

Peter's gaze darkened.

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

For a moment, she thought he might ignore it.

Might grab her and pull her back to him.

But instead—

He stepped away.

Naarah exhaled shakily.

She grabbed her phone, answering without looking at the screen.

"Hello?"

A chilling voice responded.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Naarah froze.

The breath left her lungs.

That voice—

It wasn't Peter's.

It was his rival's.

Her blood ran cold.

Peter's expression darkened instantly.

He took a step toward her, his body rigid. "Who is it?"

Naarah couldn't speak.

She could only stare, wide-eyed, as the rival's voice purred in her ear.

"Did you really think Peter could protect you forever?"

Her grip tightened on the phone.

Fear crept up her spine.

She opened her mouth—

But the line went dead.

Silence filled the room.

Peter's gaze sharpened.

"Naarah."

Her hands trembled.

And in that moment—

She knew.

This wasn't just a game anymore.

The war had truly begun.