And as she turned to walk away, she felt the strength of his stare burning into herback.
She kept her steps even, her posture smooth.
And somewhere in the crowd, she knew—Titus hadseen.
TITUS SAWit all, every shrewd move, every shift in posture, every unspoken challenge woven into the moment.
From the instant Vex stepped into Jazz’s space, from the way she squared her shoulders just slightly, the way her posture tightened, the shift in the air between them—it was all laid out in front of him like a chessboard mid-play, every move deliberate, every glance a reckoning.
He saw the way her fingers hesitated for half a second before she resumed her poised elegance, the faint flicker of something restrained in the set of her jaw. Not fear. Not unease. Just awareness. Jazz was absorbing the moment, reading between the lines of every syllable Vex uttered, just as Titus was. And yet, she didn’t back down. She didn’t give him the reaction he waslooking for. That alone told Titus more than words ever could.
He didn’t move, didn’t react. Not outwardly. He was locked in a conversation with a hedge fund director who liked to pretend he held more influence than he actually did, aman whose words were full of self-importance but empty of true importance. Titus nodded at all the right moments, offering measured responses that meant nothing, his presence alone enough to keep the man talking. But his focus remained elsewhere.
His gaze flicked to Jazz between sips of his drink, tracking the way she carried herself, the way her shoulders didn’t so much as twitch under the influence of Vex’s presence. She was cool, composed—adirect contrast to the barely veiled challenge in Vex’s stance. Titus could see it for what it was. Atest. Aprobe for weakness. But Jazz wasn’t giving himany.
Titus took another sip, letting the warmth of the whiskey spread through his chest, watching as Vex leaned in just slightly, loweringhis voice, his expression a little too casual—too familiar.
The shift in his stance was small but deliberate, asubtle encroachment on Jazz’s space, amove designed to test her, to force her into acknowledging his presence in a way that suited him. He spoke with the ease of a man who expected his words to settle in, to influence, to command. Alittle too pushy. Alittle too entitled. And Jazz wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. Aplay at intimacy, at exerting authority over the space between them. It was subtle, but Jazz held her ground, offering nothing in return.
His lips pressed together briefly. She was handling it. But that didn’t mean he liked watching it. His grip on his glass tightened, the smooth crystal warming under his palm as he fought the urge to step in, to remind Vex exactly who he was dealing with. He forced himself to remain still, to let Jazz handle it as she intended. Yet beneath the composed exterior, something dark and unrelenting simmered. He told himself it was strategy, patience, the long game. But it felt a hell of a lot likerestraint.
Vex was making amove.
Jazz was handling it.
And Titus wanted to break every bone in the senator’sbody.
He watched her, watched the way she tilted her head at just the right angle, her lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. He knew that look. It was the one she wore when she wasn’t just enduring something—she was scheming. Measuring.
Then, just like that, she turned and walkedaway.
Vex’s gaze followed her, lingering for a beat too long, his expression tight—but not unreadable. Not to Titus. His grip on his glass tightened slightly, the familiar weight anchoring him as he caught the subtle twitch in Vex’s jaw, the slight stiffening of his shoulders. He was furious. And trying, with everything in him, to bury it beneath the polished exterior of a man who wasn’t accustomed to losing.
He hadn’t expected Jazz to slip through his fingers so easily, hadn’t accounted for her poise,her refusal to bend to the influence he wielded so effortlessly over others. But she had. And that, more than anything, would eat athim.
She wasn’t supposed to be that steady. She wasn’t supposed to walk away that easily.
But she did.
Titus took a slow sip from his glass, letting the burn of the whiskey settle in his throat as Jazz weaved her way back toward him. She moved smoothly, gracefully, as if the encounter hadn’t left a mark at all. But he knew better.
She stepped beside him, sliding into place like she’d always belonged there, her presence a quiet reassurance against the simmering tension in his chest. But she didn’t look at him immediately. Instead, she smoothed a hand over her gown, adjusted the delicate phoenix chain around her neck, small, deliberate motions that told him everything he needed to know. She was composing herself, locking the moment away, filing it under things to think about later. That told him more thananythingelse.
He waited.
Didn’t ask.
Jazz let the silence stretch between them until finally, her chin lifted slightly, her voice even. “It’s okay. It wasn’t a problem.”
Titus set his glass down on the tray of a passing server, the heavy crystal leaving his fingers with a quiet finality. The glass barely made a sound against the silver tray, but the action carried its own meaning—premeditated, precise, just like everything else he did. He turned slightly toward her, studying her for a beat longer than necessary. “Yes.” A pause. Ameasured look. “I saw you handle it.”
His voice was even, but the muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed the simmering restraint beneath. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like that Vex had tried at all. But he wouldn’t push. Not here. Not now. Instead, he nodded once, accepting her answer for what it was—aquiet signal that the incident was over, but not forgotten.
For the moment,he let itrest.
But this changed everything. Now heknew.
Vex was making amove.
