Vera's POV

Claire leaned in, her lips brushing mine, teasing, but not quite kissing me. Her hands slid under my shirt, fingers grazing over bare skin, slow and torturous, like she wanted to feel every inch of me surrendering to her touch.

I clenched my jaw, my body torn between giving in and tearing her apart for making me feel this much.

She must’ve seen it in my eyes because she grinned, biting her bottom lip.

“You like it,” she whispered, voice dripping in satisfaction.

I grabbed the back of her neck and crushed my mouth against hers, swallowing whatever smug remark she was about to say.

If she was going to play with fire—fine.

But I’d make damn sure she burned with me.

Claire moaned against my lips, her body pressing flush against mine, fingers tightening on my sides like she was anchoring herself. I could feel her smirk even as she kissed me back, her tongue teasing against mine, deliberate, like she knew exactly how much I wanted her.

And I did.

But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of saying it.

She moved, grinding down just enough to steal my breath, just enough to make my fingers dig into her waist.

"Admit it," she murmured against my lips, her voice almost smug. "You like it when I’m in control."

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head even though my body betrayed me.

Claire just hummed, running her hands down my chest, over my stomach, dragging her nails lightly across my skin.

I fucking hated how much I liked that.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, baby," she whispered, lips brushing my ear, her breath warm. "But your body? It’s telling me the truth."

I gritted my teeth, hands gripping her thighs to steady myself.

She was right.

And that pissed me off.

Before she could say something else, I flipped us over, pinning her down beneath me, watching as her eyes darkened with challenge.

"Oh, so you do want control back," she teased, biting her lip.

I studied her, taking in the way her hair was spread over the pillow, the way her chest was rising and falling too fast. My hands hovered over her wrists but didn’t pin them.

I was still holding back.

And Claire knew it.

She arched slightly, pushing her body against mine, deliberately slow.

I inhaled sharply, my grip tightening.

She smirked. "See? You don’t hate it. You just hate admitting it."

I shook my head, leaning down, lips brushing over hers but not kissing her yet.

"Maybe," I murmured, my voice low, rough. "Or maybe, I just like watching you think you have control when I’m the one letting you have it."

Claire hummed in amusement, her hands moving up my back, dragging her nails lightly again.

"That’s cute," she said softly, lips teasing the edge of my jaw. "But we both know you weren’t stopping me."

I leaned in, pressing my lips against her throat, biting down just enough to make her suck in a sharp breath.

"Keep talking, pastelito," I murmured against her skin. "See what happens."

Claire laughed softly, running her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer.

"I plan to," she whispered, voice dripping with challenge.

Fuck.

I was in so much trouble.

Claire's POV

Vera hovered over me, her body pressed against mine, her lips still warm against my throat. I could feel the weight of her, the way her hands gripped my hips, holding me down just enough to remind me she was stronger—but not stopping me from moving, not stopping me from touching her.

I had been teasing her, pushing her, playing a dangerous game with someone who had never been played before. And yet… she let me.

That realization sent a shiver down my spine.

I ran my fingers through her hair, tangling them there as I whispered, "I plan to," knowing it would drive her insane.

Vera exhaled harshly against my skin, her hands tightening on my waist, pressing me deeper into the mattress. Her lips hovered just below my jawline, teasing, but not moving lower.

I swallowed, heart pounding.

She was waiting.

Waiting for me to take control again.

And I could—I could push her, I could tilt her chin up and pull her into another kiss, I could make her melt the way I knew she had been seconds ago.

But something about this moment… felt different.

I cupped her face, my thumb tracing her cheekbone, soft, slow, a stark contrast to the heated touches from before. Vera tensed beneath my touch, like she wasn’t used to something so gentle.

Her eyes flickered up to mine, uncertain, guarded.

I tilted my head slightly, studying her, admiring her.

"You always expect a fight," I murmured, brushing my thumb lower, tracing her jaw. "Has anyone ever just… held you?"

Vera stiffened.

For the first time since I met her—she didn’t have an answer.

I let the silence stretch between us, watching the flicker of conflict in her eyes, the way her grip on me loosened, the way her breath evened out slightly.

"You don’t have to fight me," I whispered, fingers trailing down her arm, resting against the pulse of her wrist.

I could feel her heartbeat.

Fast.

She looked at me like I had just stripped her bare without ever touching her. Like I had somehow gotten past a wall she never meant to let me through.

Then, just like that—she was back.

Her body tensed, her expression shifted, and before I could say anything else, she moved.

Not away.

Toward me.

I barely had time to process it before she wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my neck.

I froze.

Vera didn’t do this. She didn’t let down her guard, she didn’t fall into people, she didn’t hold onto them like this.

But now—she was holding onto me.

My chest ached.

Slowly, I let my hands settle on her back, fingers tracing up her spine, my grip steady. I tilted my head slightly, closing my eyes as I felt her breathe me in.

It was quiet.

Raw.

Something I don’t think she even realized she had done until her breath caught slightly, and she pulled back like she had just made a mistake.

I didn’t let her go.

I smiled slightly, exhaling.

"That was nice," I murmured.

Vera scoffed, shaking her head like she was trying to shake off the moment entirely.

"Shut up," she muttered.

I grinned, stretching out on the bed, watching her.

"You liked it."

Vera shot me a glare, half-annoyed, half-something else.

She didn’t argue.

And that? That was enough for me—for now.

***

Vera had a way of taking up space without even trying.

I’d been watching her from across the room, pretending not to, but failing miserably. The way she leaned against the table, arms crossed, deep in thought. The way her dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, as if she was already ten steps ahead of everyone else in the room.

It was annoying, really. How effortlessly she commanded attention. How effortlessly she had mine.

And then Gabriel walked in.

"Did you all miss me?" His voice carried through the room, dripping with his usual arrogance.

The crew welcomed him back, laughter and cheers filling the air. I barely spared him a glance at first, too focused on the way Vera reacted.

Her shoulders tensed—just for a second. Her face smoothed over so quickly, anyone else would’ve missed it. But I didn’t.

Then he moved toward her, and I felt something shift in my chest.

Gabriel had always been comfortable with Vera. Too comfortable. And Vera had always let him be.

I watched as he walked right up to her, grinning. "Did you miss me, boss?" His voice dropped slightly, teasing. His fingers reached for her chin, tilting it up just slightly, like he had every damn right to touch her.

Vera smirked. "You were gone?"

A few of the crew laughed, but Gabriel didn’t seem deterred. He leaned in slightly, his fingers still resting on her jaw. "C’mon, I know you did. Didn’t you miss our fun?"

My stomach twisted.

Because I knew exactly what kind of "fun" he meant.

For a split second, I was in that damn kitchen. Watching Vera press Gabriel against the counter, her hands tangled in his hair, her mouth against his. The way she moved, slow and lazy, completely in control.

I hadn’t meant to see it. I had just walked in at the wrong time. But once I had—

I couldn’t look away.

I remembered the way Gabriel had groaned into her mouth. The way Vera had smirked against his lips. The way I had felt something so sharp and aching inside me that I had turned on my heel and walked right the fuck out.

And now—

Now, he was touching her again.

And she was letting him.

My grip tightened around my coffee cup, my nails pressing into my palm.

"Come on," Gabriel continued, voice dropping. "I know you missed me in more ways than one." His thumb brushed over her chin, barely there, but enough to make my blood boil.

Vera just chuckled, low and smooth. "You wish."

She wasn’t pulling away.

I couldn’t sit here anymore.

I pushed my chair back and stood up, ignoring the way my pulse pounded in my ears. I wasn’t going to make a scene. Wasn’t going to say a damn word.

I just needed to get the hell out of there.

Vera's POV

Gabriel never meant anything.

That was the thing about him—about us. It was simple. Easy. Nothing.

So when his fingers brushed my chin, tilting my face toward him, I didn’t move. Not at first. It was just Gabriel. This was nothing. A display for the crew, a power play, a reminder that I was untouchable. That I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.

Then I felt it. That shift. The weight of something pressing down on me, unseen but suffocating. My eyes flickered past Gabriel, drawn to something—someone.

Claire.

She stood across the room, frozen. Not in shock. Not in hesitation. Just—still. Too still. Her face was blank, unreadable, but her eyes—her fucking eyes.

A sharp twist hit my chest before I could stop it.

She wasn’t glaring, wasn’t storming toward me, wasn’t throwing out some sarcastic remark to cut through the moment like she usually did. No. She was silent. Stiff. Jaw tight, hands clenched, breathing too controlled. Too controlled.

And her eyes—fuck.

Glass-like. Not wide. Not angry.

Hurt.

She swallowed, pressing her lips together like she was trying to keep something in.

And I—I couldn’t move. Gabriel was still close, fingers still on my jaw, the crew still watching. I had to stay still. I had to keep the image, the control, the cold. I couldn’t react. But something inside me was screaming.

I remembered the way she had looked at me that night in the kitchen. The way she caught me with Gabriel before, breath hitching, something flickering in her eyes she didn’t understand yet. And I had seen it. Known it. And I had pushed further. Smirked at her. Held her gaze. Kept going. Because I wanted to break her.

I wanted to push her to the edge, see how far I could take it before she shattered. But she didn’t shatter. Not then. And now? Now she wasn’t running. Wasn’t breaking. She was holding it together. And somehow, that was worse.

She was barely holding on, forcing herself to stay, to watch, to not let it show. And I realized something. She wasn’t the one breaking.

I was.

My chest felt too tight. My pulse was too loud. My stomach twisted into something dark and unbearable. I pushed her, tested her limits, but this? This was something else entirely.

And the worst fucking part?

I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Not here. Not in front of them. I had trapped myself.

So I did the only thing I could do. I stayed still. Let Gabriel’s fingers linger a second longer.

And watched as Claire turned, walking away without another word.