Ellie:
By the time we got back to the villa, I was seconds away from stabbing him with whatever I could get my hands on.
Reign Sinclair — the walking headline, the charming sociopath, the man who could weaponize a smile — had spent the entire lunch toying with me like I was his favorite new game. He knew exactly what he was doing. Every smirk, every whisper, every brush of his thumb against my wrist. It wasn’t flirtation. It was a challenge.
And I was furious that it worked.
I closed the door behind us, inhaled sharply, and focused on the view. Endless blue sea, whitewashed walls, sunlight pouring through glass doors — paradise by design. The kind of place people honeymooned in, not murdered.
I could still feel the heat of his hand on my skin. It made my pulse trip. My pulse. As if I
