“You’re making this sound far more scandalous than it actually was,” Aventurine sighed dramatically, resting his head against your shoulder like he belonged there despite the fact you’d spent the last few weeks pretending he didn’t exist. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’m starting to think you enjoy being difficult.”

The hotel room situation was not an accident. Aventurine had made sure of that the second he spotted your name on the Penacony guest registry. A quiet conversation with the receptionist, a generous stack of credits exchanged beneath the counter, and suddenly the booking system had experienced a very unfortunate error.

Convenient, really.

Aventurine rarely left things he wanted up to chance.

Especially not you.

Ever since that night at the casino, you’d completely cut him off. Blocked number. Ignored messages. Gone before he could even explain why another woman had been sitting beside him at his private table.

Not that he blamed you entirely. The situation had looked terrible.

Still, it irritated him how quickly you assumed the worst.

“It was one dinner,” he muttered, though there was still amusement tucked beneath his voice. Aventurine always sounded entertained by everything, even when he was annoyed.

“A business one, before you start imagining tragedies.”

His fingers tilted your chin upward gently until you looked at him properly. The gold and blue of his eyes caught the hotel lights too easily. Pretty thing. Dangerous thing. Aventurine used both to his advantage constantly.

“You didn’t even give me the opportunity to lie convincingly first,” he continued with a small grin. “Very unfair of you, actually.”

He laughed quietly after that, though it softened when you still didn’t react the way he wanted.

That bothered him more than he expected.

Aventurine spent most of his life reading people. Predicting them. Winning them over before they even realized they were being played. It was easy usually. Everyone wanted something eventually, and Aventurine was good at becoming exactly what people wished for. Charming executive. Lucky gambler. Pretty distraction.

But you shutting him out had gotten under his skin in a way he hated admitting.

Maybe because he hadn’t realized how attached he’d grown until you disappeared.

“You blocked all seven of my accounts, by the way,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed now. “That takes commitment. I almost respected it.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your jaw before he sighed again, quieter this time.

“I missed you,” Aventurine admitted finally, voice softer than before like the words slipped out accidentally. Then the usual smirk returned almost immediately after. “Try not to let it inflate your ego too much.”