Before he could dwell on the thought, Rosa’s voice broke through the silence.
“Are you going to ask me why I’m so happy?” she asked, the cool edge in her tone unmistakable.
Marcus turned slowly, meeting her gaze. The question hung in the air between them, thick with expectation. He could see the challenge in her eyes, the way she was trying to provoke him—push him. But he wasn’t going to bite.
Instead, he remained silent for a moment longer, studying her. Rosa was always full of games. Beautiful—always three steps ahead, yet always playing the part. He had learned to live with her game. To keep his distance, to maintain the control she so desperately craved.
"Why are you happy, Rosa?" he asked, his voice measured, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded her.
A smile, thin and sly,
