Evangeline couldn't process the word this charming man had said.
Perfect?
What was perfect? Her mind refused to catch the rest of his words. All she could hear, echoing inside her chest, was that single word—perfect.
She watched him, more mesmerized than she liked to admit.
Despite how menacing Hades appeared, there was something almost boyish in the way he toyed with the lace ribbon, rolling it between his fingers as though it were a priceless treasure. His violet eyes softened as he studied it, fingertips caressing the fabric with such care that Evangeline's own breath caught.
For a wild, reckless moment, it felt as though those same calloused fingers, warm and rough, were brushing against her skin instead —teasingly wanting to elicit a reaction from her, or perhaps even a moan.
Flustered, she swallowed hard and forced herself back to reality. "Th–The lace... does it match your expectation, Sire?"
"No."
Her heart sank. "W– What?"
