Chapter Four: A War of Wills
744 Words
Naomi had known she ought to have gone.
She should have exited that penthouse, erased every memory of Julian Saint Clair from her mind, and gone back to her free, wild existence.
Instead, she stood before him, her body in conflict with her even as her mind bellowed for her to get out.
She was repulsed by this. Repulsed by how quickly he had her on a string, like a puppet dancing on command. Repulsed by the self-indulgent, knowing smirk on his lips, as if he had already guessed what she would do before she even realized it.
Julian leaned back against the desk, spinning the whiskey in his glass. His cuffs were rolled up, revealing the sharp edges of tattoos on his forearms. Dark. Daring. Unrepentant.
"You may leave," he said smoothly, the same defiance in his tone as before.
But Naomi felt the unspoken words behind it.
You won't.
And that was the worst of it.
He was right.
Her fists curled at her sides.
She had to leave. She had to stop this before it began.
But instead, she raised her chin and smiled.
"You don't get to tell me what to do, Saint Clair."
Julian's smile widened, his emerald eyes darkening.
"No?" He took a slow sip of his drink. "Then why are you still here?"
Naomi's breath caught, but she was determined not to let him see how much he affected her.
Instead, she closed the distance between them, just short of touching him. The scent of whiskey and expensive cologne swirled around her, making her dizzy.
"You think you know me, don't you?" she panted, tilting her head.
Julian set his glass down on the table, his fingers brushing against hers in a deliberate move.
"I don't think," he whispered, his voice sin and velvet. "I know."
Naomi's heart pounded, her pulse a war drum in her ears.
"You don't own me," she shot back, her voice tougher than she intended.
Julian smiled, slow and lethal.
"Not yet."
His voice sent shivers down her spine.
Not yet.
As if he had already decided.
As if this was the only way it could be done.
As if she would break.
The Rules of the Game
Naomi took a step back, requiring room before she did something foolish.
Like let him touch her.
Like give in.
Because that was exactly what he wanted.
And if she was going to play this game, she was going to have to play to win.
"You're going to charge ahead because you say I will?" she mocked, arching a brow.
Julian looked at her, his gaze unwavering.
"I believe," he said slowly, "that you already are running—you just don't know it."
Naomi's throat dried.
She seethed at the way he'd slipped through her facade. Resented how his words crept in under her skin, planting the very fears she would not and could not claim.
So she did what came most naturally.
She pushed back.
"You're likely accustomed to women throwing themselves at you," she said, moving forward again, her confidence regained. "But I don't pursue men, Julian. I bore easily. And I can promise you—you won't be the exception."
Julian's expression didn't change.
If anything, his sneer grew even darker.
"Who told you to run?" He leaned in, his fingers against the inside of her wrist. Light touch—hardly there, but burning. "I already caught you."
Naomi yanked her hand away.
Wrong.
He hadn't caught her.
She wasn't some animal to be trapped, some prize to be won.
She was in control. She always was in control.
She would teach him.
Naomi took another step back, her smile wicked.
"You're going to regret thinking that," she purred, facing the door.
Julian didn't stop her.
Didn't move.
But as she reached for the handle, his voice wrapped around her like a chain.
"Naomi."
Her fingers clamped tighter.
She didn't turn.
Daren't.
"You can play all you want," he whispered. "But you and I both know how this ends."
Her breath caught.
For a moment—just a moment—she almost turned back.
Almost let herself be pulled under.
But instead, she smiled.
"Then I suppose we'll just have to see who wins," she whispered, stepping out and slamming the door behind her.
And yet, as she walked away, her heart still thrummed.
Because no matter how much she tried not to admit it—
She already knew the answer.
- Writer
