I laughed coldly, brushing the subject away. She wanted to pry—fine…I had just the question. “My turn.” Glaring, I asked, “You told me you f**ked your old boyfriend when you went back to—”

Tess’s cheeks flared with temper. “I didn’t go back. You sent me away. Don’t confuse the difference.” Her annoyance shimmered around her like heat waves, matching my anger, feeding, weaving…thickening the air between us.

This is getting dangerous.

Alcohol, prying into each other’s past—it was a recipe for a screaming match or worse, me losing control.

“Fine!” I glowered. “I sent you back. Not that that’s the issue right now. What I want to know is, why the f**k did you tell me that? Hadn’t I scared you enough? Why did you deliberately provoke me when you knew what I battled with?”

Tess lifted her glass. The alcohol brushed her lips. Her eyes locked with mine, refusing to answer.

I balled my hands.

But then she lowered the glass without drinking. “Because I sensed you needed to be pushed. I sensed your unhappiness. I know you’re only truly happy when you let go.”

Goddammit, I’d been afraid of that. She was way too reckless—always giving me things she wasn’t strong enough to give.

“So you tied a bow around your pretty f**king neck and threw yourself into a life where I could do anything I wanted?”

She glanced quickly around the restaurant, eyes burning with heat. “Yes. And you know why? Because I need pain like you need to inflict—you taught me—”

“Taught you or made you?”

She planted her hands on the table, trembling with temper. “You didn’t make me anything, so get off your ego trip and listen for once. I learned about my dark desires way before you. I stayed with a boyfriend who I loved as a brother because I was too damn afraid of being alone again—but I always knew I wanted more. Needed certain things. If anyone used each other in this scenario, it was me using you.”

She slouched back in her booth, taking a gulp of alcohol.

Franco pulled the curtain aside, revealing his table and his cocky smug-ass face. His eyes darted between us, mirth glowing in his green gaze. “Not that I mind listening to this, but keep your voices down.” He winked at Tess. “For the record—you’re doing a damn good job getting answers I’ve been wondering about, too. Keep it up.”

Pointing a finger at me, he said, “Don’t make me hit you for swearing at your fiancée.”

I snarled, reaching to smash his face, but he jerked the curtain back into position, chuckling at my f**king expense. Bastard. Absolute bastard.

Needing to do something with my hands, so I didn’t sucker-punch my head of security, I drank. The swallow was small—I’d finished my second whiskey.

Exchanging the empty for a full one, I nursed it. Looking at the man alone in his booth, I tried to calm myself, noticing he’d ordered and nibbled on a breadstick. See? Nothing to worry about.

I risked a glance at Tess.

Her eyes were down; her glass also empty. She looked up, catching my eye. Giving me a tentative smile, she whispered, “I don’t think I want to play anymore.”

But I didn’t learn anything new. I hadn’t got nearly enough out of her. She started this—I’d say when we finished.

Pushing the new martini toward her, I muttered, “It’s not over until I say it is.”

She shifted in her seat, picking at the grey netting on her dress. “I don’t think this game is meant for people like us.”

My eyes narrowed. “Des gens comme nous ?” People like us?

“People with too much darkness—too much to hide.”

My skin bristled. My mind filled with images of every dark thing I wanted to do. How could I want to do such god-awful things to her, when I was madly f**king in love? How could I sit there and argue when every protective instinct was focused on threats I couldn’t see but knew were coming?

I sighed. “You wanted to play, Tess. So play.”

Her blue-grey eyes met mine. “Fine. I can’t remember whose turn it is.”

“Mine.” Was it? Who cared—it was now. “Do you have a middle name?”

Tess paused, stunned at my seemingly innocent question. “Um, Olivia.”

My heart thawed, letting go of the lacing anger. “Olivia. Tess Olivia Mercer.”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “Not yet…but I hope—soon.”

I let a tight smile spread my lips. “Sooner than you think, esclave.” Two days to be exact. Two days before I could relax, knowing she would be cared for for the rest of her life if anything happened to me.

For some reason, I liked her not knowing—creating the surprise. Fuck, I still had to call Suzette. I’d shoot her and bury her in a shallow grave behind my garage if she so much as invited one person I didn’t know. And Franco’s entire team of bodyguards would have to restrain me if she’d invited camera crews. This was private, and I wouldn’t share my life for no amount of money, company promotion, or sick human curiosity.

“Do you have a middle name?” Tess asked. Ah, so her ploy was to parrot all my questions. I’d have to stick to basic rapid fire, lulling her into a sense of normalcy before sneaking in what I really wanted to know.

“No. What was your favourite movie as a child?”

Her eyes filled with innocent happiness. She laughed. “It’s a little ironic—but Beauty and the Beast.”

I had no idea why that was ironic, but I let it go. She asked, “Who’s your favourite band? I know you like music—you played enough when I first arrived.”

The question was more loaded than she thought. I had a favourite singer—who happened to be a good friend and Tess would meet her soon. “Yes. Most of the songs I played were originals by her.” Taking a sip, I mulled over another question. “What are you most afraid of?”

Tess blushed. “You’re going to think I’m an idiot.” Twirling her glass, she admitted, “Crickets.”

My eyebrow rose. “Crickets. Out of every single venomous, eight-legged, sharp-toothed ferocious carnivore, you’ve decided to be terrified of a bug that doesn’t have fangs or a lust for human flesh?”

She squirmed, flushing redder. “Yes. Don’t mock me.” Her eyes flashed. “Do you have any siblings?”