Lyra stood in the wreckage, chest heaving, eyes wide with disbelief. Every prop, every flirtatious touch in the suite had been set to pull him in, the music, the photos, the way the room smelled faintly of her perfume and old memories. She’d planned it like a hunt. Tonight was supposed to be the kill.
Instead, he’d walked away. No hesitation. No look back. The door had closed on her like a pack slamming shut.
Rage uncoiled inside her. She kicked over a tray, sending crystal skittering, and ripped at the floral arrangements until petals rained across the carpet. Her fingers trembled as she dialed, voice snapping into the phone.
“You hear me? Good. So Sloane ’s in the tech-med finals?” She let the words land like a challenge. “Perfect. Put me in the same bracket.”
She paced, wo
