"How are you dating Kasteil and not know he smokes?" Jamie pressed, leaning forward. His voice had lost its earlier humor, replaced by a sharp edge of concern. "The man is practically synonymous with it. Ask anyone in Novaterra—they'll tell you the same thing. Kasteil and his goddamn cigars. It's practically a brand at this point."
"I…" I looked between them helplessly. My mind was racing, scrambling to find some explanation, some piece of information I had missed. "I don't know what you guys are talking about. I really don't."
"You're dating him," Jamie said, his tone flattening into something almost clinical. "Elian hides that he smokes—he's very careful about it—but even I know he does. There's no way you're dating a man that is infamous for smoking and somehow missed it. It's like dating a celebrity and not knowing they're famous."
He is what?
The words didn't make any sense.
Kasteil?
No.
That couldn't be right.
