Chapter 1
Black Dress
Fee:
The thing about getting shot at is that your brain doesn't process the sound first; it's the way the air splits apart, like the world cracking open before it bleeds.
Thirty minutes ago, I thought my biggest problem was a man who wouldn't kiss me.
Twenty minutes ago, I walked into this boutique to forget about Anton's hands pulling away when they should have pulled me closer.
Ten minutes ago, I was holding a black dress, imagining what it would have felt like to have let him see all of me for the first time ever.
The first bullet shatters the boutique window three feet from my head.
I don't scream, there's no time. Glass rains down like deadly confetti as my guard, Cillian, shoves me toward the back exit, his hand already reaching for his gun.
Last night…
The string quartet transitions into something soft and romantic as Sage and I sway together on the dance floor, her wedding dress flowing like liquid starlight around us. We're both a little tipsy on champagne and happiness, our laughter bright and carefree. I'm savoring this perfect moment before real life pulls us in different directions.
Six months of planning, and it all paid off. May has dressed the night perfectly. The reception looks like something from a fairy tale, twinkling lights strung between ancient stone arches, tables draped in ivory silk, centerpieces of white roses that catch the candlelight perfectly.
Every vendor meeting, every dress fitting, every late-night phone call between Chicago and New York was worth it for this.
Plus, planning Sage's wedding gave me the perfect excuse to avoid my mother, who got summoned here from her European sabbatical the moment word reached her about Moira's pregnancy.
As much as I love knowing I'll be an aunt, a Quinn grandbaby means another round of marriage pressure for the remaining unmarried daughter.
I also helped Moira plan her arranged wedding to Lorenzo. But where Moira's wedding felt like a business transaction wrapped in white silk, Sage's feels like pure joy.
Sage chose Maks, and Maks chose her. Tonight, she's not just another Quinn bride securing an alliance.
Sage spins me around, her laughter contagious, as my dress floats around us. She's not just my cousin; she's like another sister to me, the rebellious one I aided with my skills in spying and hacking.
"Okay, but seriously," Sage says, guiding us in a lazy circle on the dance floor, her focus more on our conversation than the music. "Tell me more about these Chicago business trips. Anton's been making a lot of them lately."
I glance across the dance floor where Anton stands next to Yuri, both of them in perfectly tailored black suits, and he looks dreamy.
"It's complicated. The Basovs and Quinns started some new venture that requires his expertise. Dad won't tell me details, but Anton's been coming to Chicago regularly."
Sage raises an eyebrow, that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes. "And what have you found out about it?"
"About Anton? Nothing. And about the Chicago venture? I've found some details." I adjust my grip as we sway to the music. "But I met this person who goes by Phoenix in my calculus class. She's this serious hacker type, taught me some new tricks for gathering intel."
Sage raises an eyebrow. "You're still doing the online classes?"
"Just a few math courses. Keeps me sharp. Plus, the unexpected things you learn in advanced mathematics."
The music shifts to a different song. I catch Anton's gaze across the terrace.
For six months, we've been dancing around each other in this careful choreography of glances and brief conversations.
Anton's still watching me, and when our eyes meet again, he doesn't look away. Instead, one corner of his mouth lifts in the barest hint of a smile before he turns back to whatever Yuri is saying.
"Six months of this?" Sage whispers, following my gaze.
"He talks to me briefly when he's there, but..."
