Page 2

I ground myself in the reflection staring back from a gilded hallway mirror?—

The woman I see is fire in human form—curves that could start wars, wrapped in a dress that clings like it’s begging for mercy. Full breasts testing the limits of silk. Hips that Luca once called “too much” now carving their space in the world like they goddamn own it.

For one glorious second, I see what Halsey sees:

A bombshell.

Not the kind tucked away like a shameful secret.

No. This woman could burn his entire world down.

Let them stare.

Let them whisper.

Because tonight, I’m not the apology. I’m the threat.

Luca wanted me hidden?Too damn bad.

I’m done being anyone’s secret.

I take a breath. The air tastes like champagne and blood money.

Gold-leaf arches curve like the ribs of a golden beast. Chandeliers drip like diamond fangs, and even the flowers look weaponized—white roses arranged like sacrifices.

Every inch of this place screams one thing: This is power.You are prey.

Halsey nudges me again, her grin razor-sharp. “We might get lucky and find you a badass with fuck-boy energy.”

I snort, my grip biting into the seams of my clutch.

“You need to be stopped.”

She winks. “And yet… always right.”

A hush ripples through the crowd.

The quartet’s strings tighten like a noose as the air changes.

There he is. Luca Bellacino. My ex. The human embodiment of a red flag in a Tom Ford tux. Same smirk. Same diamond "LB" cufflinks.

Though now, I’m convinced they stand for Lying Bastard.

The crowd rises.

My pulse riots.

Guests dressed in designer suits and chic dresses murmur in hushed excitement.

My heart hammers against my ribs like it’s trying to escape—just like I should.

I can’t decide if it’s because of being in the same room as the man who casually tossed me aside for not being good enough—or the knowledge that half these guests have ties to organized crime.

I recognize more faces than I care to admit, having done discreet tech work for some of them in the past. Cybersecurity patches, data encryption, the occasional cleanup job when their less-than-legal activities left a digital footprint.

All anonymous.

All untraceable.