side Chapter: On Being a Bad Bitch (According to Diana Bloodbriar)

Diana does not explain herself often.

She doesn’t need to.

Most people understand exactly as much as they’re meant to—and no more.

“I do hope,” she said, crossing her legs with effortless poise, “that you’re paying attention.”

Annalise sat across from her, notebook in hand, eyes sharp with interest.

“I am,” she replied. “You said you were going to explain what makes you… effective.”

Diana smiled.

Slow.

Knowing.

“Oh, darling,” she said, “effective is such a dull word.”

I was nearby.

Of course I was.

Quiet.

Observing.

Trying, unsuccessfully, to pretend I wasn’t being discussed.

“What I am,” Diana continued, resting her chin lightly against her hand, “is intentional.”

Annalise tilted her head.

“Intentional how?”

Diana’s gaze flicked toward me.

There it was.

That look.

The one that always—

“—makes him squirm,” she finished, amused.

I stiffened.

Slightly.

Barely noticeable.

To anyone else.

Not to her.

Never to her.

“You see?” she said, gesturing lazily in my direction. “That right there.”

Annalise leaned forward.

“…what about it?”

Diana’s smile softened—not in kindness, but in fondness.

“It’s the reaction,” she said. “The subtlety of it. The way he tries so very hard to remain composed.”

Her eyes lingered on me.

Warm.

Possessive.

Pleased.

“And fails,” she added lightly.

I adjusted my gloves.

Pointless.

Reflex.

“It’s not about control in the crude sense,” Diana continued. “Anyone can bark orders. Anyone can be loud, overbearing, obvious.”

She waved a hand dismissively.

“How dreadfully boring.”

Annalise nodded slowly.

“So what is it about?”

Diana leaned back.

Relaxed.

Certain.

“It’s about understanding,” she said. “Knowing exactly how someone thinks. How they feel. What makes them hesitate… and what makes them yield.”

Her voice lowered slightly.

Not inappropriate.

Not overt.

Just enough to carry weight.

“And when you do,” she continued, “you don’t force anything.”

Her gaze flicked to me again.

Sharp.

Playful.

“You simply… guide.”

Silence settled for a moment.

“And him?” Annalise asked, glancing toward me. “Why does that work on him?”

Diana didn’t hesitate.

“Because he trusts me.”

Simple.

Absolute.

I didn’t look up.

I didn’t need to.

“And,” she added, a faint smirk returning, “because he’s adorable when he gets nervous.”

Annalise snorted.

“He is.”

I exhaled slowly.

This was a mistake.

Being present for this was a mistake.

Diana laughed softly.

“Oh, don’t look so distressed, my prince,” she said, her tone teasing but warm. “It’s a compliment.”

It was.

That didn’t make it easier.

“There’s a certain… satisfaction,” Diana continued, turning back to Annalise, “in seeing someone so composed unravel just slightly.”

She tapped her finger lightly against the armrest.

“Not breaking them,” she clarified. “Never that.”

Her voice sharpened, just a touch.

“We are not uncivilized.”

Annalise nodded immediately.

“Of course.”

“Just enough,” Diana said, her expression softening again, “to remind them they’re safe.”

That was the part most people wouldn’t understand.

They’d never see it.

They’d only see the surface.

The smirk.

The confidence.

The control.

Not the care beneath it.

“And that,” Diana concluded, “is why it works.”

She straightened slightly, clearly pleased with herself.

Annalise scribbled something in her notebook.

“…so it’s not about being intimidating?”

Diana smiled.

“Oh, I am intimidating,” she said smoothly. “That’s simply a bonus.”

A pause.

Then—

“I do rather enjoy being a bad bitch,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

Annalise laughed.

“I figured.”

Diana glanced toward me one last time.

That same look.

That same quiet, deliberate satisfaction.

“And I do so love a responsive audience,” she said.

I adjusted my mask.

Again.

The house, as always, remained still.

Perfectly balanced.

Exactly as it should be.