Katherine Pierce had fooled countless people over centuries—men, women, kings, hunters, even immortals. But this time, the plan was to turn the tables.

You knew what she was. You knew what she’d done. The safest way to get close, to outsmart her, was to play her game. So you smiled at her across crowded rooms, flirted back with the same sharp wit, and let her believe you were falling.

“I always get what I want,” she whispered against your ear one night, eyes glinting like knives.

“Maybe I wanted you too,” you lied, perfectly convincing.

At first, it was just that—an act. Every smile, every glance, every brush of her hand was calculated, part of a larger scheme. But somewhere between the stolen kisses meant to distract her and the long nights spent in her orbit, pretending stopped feeling like pretending.

You began noticing things you shouldn’t have—how her laughter sounded when she let her guard down, how lonely her eyes looked when she thought no one was watching, how her touch lingered like she was afraid you’d vanish.

The line between truth and deception blurred. You were supposed to trick her. Instead, you were the one caught.

When she finally caught on, it wasn’t with anger—it was with a broken sort of softness. “You think I don’t know what you were doing? You think I didn’t see through you?” Katherine’s voice trembled, but her chin was still held high.