Isla’s POV
I forced my face into a smile so quickly it almost hurt.
“Isabella,” I breathed, tone sugar-smooth, “long time.”
“Likewise.” She tilted her chin delicately, nothing but elegance and quiet cruelty. Then she turned, fingers brushing Silas’s arm as if presenting him. “Silas, come on. Won’t you greet Isla?”
Silas straightened, expression unreadable but polite enough to fool anyone who didn’t know better.
“Long time,” he said gently. “It’s nice seeing you here.”
Nice seeing you here? f*****g pretender.
God, he was pretending so well I almost questioned myself.
And Isabella—did she know? Did she sense something? Was this her test?
My heart beat hard but steady. I lifted my chin, mirroring their performance.
“You too,” I replied, hoping my voice didn’t tremble.
Silas studied
