58

58
CLARISSA DEVOR —

Karl leaned back in his chair like a cat that had just cornered a mouse and was deciding whether to play with it or eat it. The glint in his eye wasn’t just malice — it was calculation. Every smile, every shrug… it was all bait.

I didn’t bite.

Instead, I picked up my fork and stabbed a piece of roasted potato, chewing slowly while holding his gaze. It tasted like dust, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” Karl said, tapping his fingers against the table. “Not planning your escape, are you?”

“Of course I am,” I said flatly. “Why else would I be quiet?”

He chuckled, leaning forward until his elbows rested on the table. “You know, I like that about you. No fake smiles. No trembling. You’re a terrible hostage, Clarissa. But that’s exactly why I think I can break you.”

I swallowed my bite and set the fork down slowly. “If you think you can break me, Karl, you haven’t been paying attention.”

The guards behind me shifted, probably wondering if they should step in. Karl waved them off with a flick of his wrist. “Let her talk. She’s going to run out of defiance eventually. They always do.”

“You must confuse me with one of your usual damsels-in-distress,” I said. “But I’m not here to play your victim.”

His smirk faltered for half a second — enough for me to notice. He didn’t like being told he wasn’t in control. That was good. That meant there were cracks.

He picked up his wine glass, swirled it lazily, and took a sip. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t need you to be a victim. I just need you to look like one… for him. Once he sees you suffering — or thinks he does — he’ll make a mistake. And then I win.”

I tilted my head. “You really think a man like him would fall for that?”

Karl’s smile returned, colder now. “He won’t fall for it. He’ll react to it. And that’s all I need.”

My stomach knotted — not from fear, but from the realization that he wasn’t bluffing. Karl didn’t care about fooling anyone. He just wanted leverage, and I was the rope he planned to pull until something snapped.

I needed a counter before he got too comfortable.

“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “if I don’t give you your little performance, what then?”

He set down his glass and met my gaze. “Then I make it real.”

The air between us went still, thick, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

I smiled anyway. “You’d better hope you never have to find out what happens when you push me that far.”

Karl’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Clarissa. You’re starting to sound like him.”

“Good,” I said, picking up my fork again. “Maybe you should be scared.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. For the first time since I’d been dragged into this place, I thought I saw it — the faintest flicker of doubt in Karl’s eyes.

I was going to make that doubt grow.