They stepped into the terrace corridor overlooking a manicured garden below. The noise of the restaurant faded into distant clinks of crystal and low murmurs of conversation.
Sunlight poured through the glass panels, catching Scarlet's wine-colored hair and turning it into something almost aflame.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Scarlet leaned lightly against the steel railing, crossing her arms.
Up close, her beauty was sharper. Her perfume richer. Her confidence overstated.
"You're very composed," Scarlet said at last.
Lara met her eyes steadily.
"Should I not be?"
A faint smile curved Scarlet's lips.
"I've seen many women around Ares," she said smoothly. "Most of them misunderstand their position."
Position. There it was.
Lara did not answer immediately.
Silence stretched — not awkward, but controlled.
Scarlet stepped closer.
