The moment Lizetta mentioned Ste, it was as if she''d tripped some silent rm in Remington''s mind.


    He couldn''t help but suspect Lizetta was trying to gauge whether he thought Ste was attractive.


    At a red light, Remington pulled the car to a stop and turned to her with a look of exaggerated seriousness.


    "I honestly don''t think she''s pretty at all," he dered. “Maybe it''s true what they say —your face reflects your character. These days, when I look at her, all I see is something harsh and twisted. She doesn''t have even a fraction of the beauty that shines from you, Liz, inside and out."


    Lizetta stared at him, speechless.


    She reached out and pinched his arm, hard, unable to hold back. "You''re overthinking this—and acting way too guilty for your own good!"


    If he hadn''t spoiled Ste so much in the past, would he be this skittish now? Lizetta''s gaze was anything but gentle; in fact, she looked downright mocking.


    Remington let her twist the inside of his arm, then nodded obediently. "Whatever you say, Liz. I''ll take it like a man."


    He even rolled up his sleeve a bit, exposing his lean, sculpted wrist, the crisp white of his shirt pulling back just enough. "You want to take a bite to vent your anger? Go ahead. Ouch."


    He didn''t expect her to take him literally—but in the next second, Lizetta leaned in and sank her teeth into his wrist.


    Pain shot through him, mingling with a strange, electric thrill.


    Remington inhaled sharply. His lips curled into a lopsided smile, and he rxed, letting her gnaw at him as much as she liked.


    Only when the light turned green did Lizetta let go.


    She hadn''t broken the skin, but she''d left a deep, unmistakable bite mark. Feeling the unevenness beneath her teet, she instinctively gaveta quick, apologetic lick before pulling away. ,


    Remington''s breath caught again. The veins stood out on the back of his hand where he gripped the steering wheel, and for a moment, the car swerved just enough to betray his distraction.


    "Liz, knock it off, I''m driving," he warned in a low, gruff voice.


    At that, Lizetta finally let go.


    Remington drew his arm back, tugged at his tie, and unfastened a button on his shirt cor. The movement was casual, natural.


    even but when someone that


    good looking did it, every detail stood out the long, elegant fingers loosening his tie, the palé arch of his neck, the sharp line of his jaw, the subtle bob of his Adam''s apple. It was almost cinematic-too vivid, too arresting.


    Lizetta felt her ears grow hot and quickly turned to look out the window.


    A long silence settled between them as they drove on.


    It wasn''t until they''d turned onto the road leading straight to the West family estate


    that Lizetta spoke up again, picking up the thread from earlier.


    "Do


    you think Ste really had work done? Does she still look like she did as a kid?" Remington, no longer preupied with self-preservation, considered her question. “Her features haven''t changed all that much," he said atst. “But her personality— she''s practically a different person altogether."


    He remembered how Ste used to be as a child: brash, straightforward, almost boyish. She''d always taken it upon herself to act like his big sister, fiercelypetitive, always looking out for him.


    But now? Ste seemed to have swung to the opposite extreme, desperate to cling


    to the Dashiell family like some needy, spineless vine.