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His eyes went wide, his mouth forming words, but Evangeline’s hand moved to his throat and his words died.

“Don’t stop now,” she said. “You were doing so well.”

“Evangeline—” His voice was rough, strained.

“Finish, Malachi. Or I’ll make sure Zinnia understands exactly what you were willing to trade her for.”

I stood frozen while my heart slammed against my ribs, while he stared at me with something that might have been regret or might have been calculation.

“I’ll bring you people,” he said finally, his voice flat. “Performers. Guests. Anyone you want. I’ll help you build this place into something they’ll pay to see.”

“And in exchange?” Evangeline rolled her hips again, deliberate and obscene, her gaze locked on mine. “What do you want, Devil?”

“Power. Wealth. Control over my own fucking life.”

“Done.” She leaned down, her mouth brushing against his ear, her gaze still locked on mine. “Welcome to the House, Devil. You’re mine now.”

She climbed off him slowly and adjusted her dress with precision. Malachi sat up, reaching for his pants, but Evangeline raised one hand and he froze.

“Stay,” she said. “Zinnia should see what she’s inheriting.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“You said we were leaving,” I whispered.

Malachi’s jaw tightened. “Zinnia⁠—”

“You said you loved me. You said you didn’t want to leave without me.”

“I did.” His voice cracked, just slightly. “I meant it.”

“Then what the fuck is this?”

“An opportunity.” Evangeline stepped between us and smiled. “Malachi realized that running away with you meant staying poor, staying powerless, staying exactly what he’s always been. I offered him something better."

“You tricked him into a cage.”

“I offered him a choice. And he chose.” She turned to Malachi and waited. “Didn’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

“Tell her,” Evangeline said. “Tell her what you chose.”

Malachi’s gaze met mine and held something raw and desperate for a moment. But then it was gone, replaced by the cold, arrogant mask he wore on stage.

“I chose this,” he said. “I chose power. I chose control. I chose not to spend the rest of my life running.”

“How could you choose her over me?”

“I chose myself.”

The words hit like a physical blow.

“You’re a coward,” I said.

“Maybe.” His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. “But I’m a rich coward now.”

Evangeline laughed, and I wanted to claw her eyes out.