The Woman Who Knows His Name 

Lilth’s POV Isabella moved around the boutique like she had already memorized every corner. Her manicured fingers skimmed the fabrics, not rushing anything. She didn’t even bother to ask questions, she just kept touching things the way people do when they expect the world to open for them. It was indeed the demeanor of a spoiled brat. I followed a step behind her. Professional, attentive and more importantly…guarded. The space between us felt deliberate. “You have good taste,” she praised at last, but it was without looking at me, she was still facing a rack of dresses as she continued talking. “Clean lines. Nothing desperate.” There was a pause after that. It wasn't an awkward one. “Thank you,” I replied evenly. She turned, her eyes meeting mine with a knowing curve to her mouth. “This place suits you.” It was yet another compliment, but something about the way she said it made my shoulders grow tighter, even as I nodded. We started to move deeper into the store. The