You might say my obsession has become a compulsion in the way I need to know everything about Scarlet Laurent. That even though I’ve stepped into the background, I could never look away from my Little Sparrow. I watch as she maneuvers through the restaurant, her honey-brown hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows. She looks elegant in her ice-blue shift dress that highlights her eyes. It glides over her body, giving the barest hint of her curves. There’s no doubt it’s perfectly tailored just for her.  An older gentleman and his much younger wife approach her from the side, fake smiles plastered on their faces. A line forms between Scarlet’s brows, and her fingers tighten around her champagne flute.  My teeth creak with the force as I clench them together. I want to go over there and squash whatever bullshit they’re saying. Before my feet can move, Scarlet’s demeanor goes cold, a warning and a threat.  She may have been away for the last seven years, but she’s still from one of the ruling twenty-six families of the Order of Saints. For the first fifteen years of her life, she’d been raised to live up to the highest form of society etiquette. Which, for the Order, includes knowing how to put someone in their place without breaking her outwardly perfect demeanor.   I smirk when the man bows his head and pulls his wife with him as he practically flees. Scarlet doesn’t need me to intervene, never has. That won’t stop me from tracking him down and fucking with his business profits for upsetting her. As a Lord in the Order of Saints, I’m more than capable of ruining him.