—Natasha's POV—
I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror without my skin burning. Not the faint heat of embarrassment—but a slow, consuming fire that crawled up from my chest and settled beneath my cheeks. Every time I met my own eyes, I could feel them. The ghost of Enzo’s possessive touch still lingered like a brand on my waist, and Lucien’s smirk—God, that smirk—burned into my memory, sinful and smug, like he knew exactly how I’d fall apart for him.
My breath caught at the memory of last night—the way they’d circled me like predators, eyes gleaming with hunger, smiles edged with lust I wasn’t ready to understand. There had been no escaping the way their voices had slithered into my bones, coaxing confessions out of my skin with nothing but their presence. And my body… my traitorous bod
