I stop when I recognize her.
White blonde hair. Perfectly symmetrical features. She’s so stunning it almost hurts to look at her, beautiful in a way that’s sharp and cold.
“You’re a very difficult woman to get alone, did you know that?” Annika asks me.
I can’t find the words to answer her.
“I’ll do the Yamazaki 18, neat,” she directs the bartender. Turning her gaze back to me, she adds, “Make it a double.”
Annika. Alec’s wife. Sitting inches away from me.
Her gray eyes scan me up and down, assessing me. She’s older than she was when the photo I saw was taken. Younger than me by more than a few years. Her hair is shorter, and somehow her bone structure feels almost lethal in its beauty.
She looks dangerous.
I swallow dryly, suddenly self-conscious of the sundress I threw on before heading down here. Annika is the picture of elegance in her perfectly tailored ebony jumpsuit and sky-high stilettos so thin I wouldn’t trust them to carry my bodyweight.
“Don’t worry.” She gives me a sharp smile. “You’re not in any danger.”
I wipe my fingers over the hem of my dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. “Why would I be in danger?” I laugh.
Her expression softens into something almost pitying. She signals for the bartender, and I only realize that she’s ordered me another martini when it’s delivered a moment later, without my asking. At least my drink of choice is more dignified than my current appearance. I touch the space between my cheekbone and eye, where I can still feel the swelling.
I take a steadying breath. “If you’re looking for Ale?—”
“You’re exactly who I’m looking for,” Annika interrupts. She takes a delicate sip of the amber liquid in her glass.
I let out a weak chuckle. “That’s surprising. I figured you’d be looking for your husband.”
Her hand pauses on her drink, almost like she’d forgotten. “Oh,that. A business arrangement, nothing more. He and I have very little to talk about these days.”
“You’re still wearing a ring,” I point out. A blue sapphire glitters on a platinum band around her finger, sparkling in the dim lights of the bar.
“It keeps the men away,” Annika admits, turning her hand to admire it. “Most of them, anyway.”
“Mace keeps them away, too,” I murmur into my drink. She laughs at that, the sound light and musical.
“No, I wanted to talk toyou,” Annika says. “Woman to woman.”
“Is this the part where you warn me away from them?” I joke.
This time, she doesn’t laugh. She watches me like she’s evaluating me, waiting for me to make my next move.
“It is smart of them to put you here,” she comments, motioning around us. “It’s secure. Safe.”
A shiver rolls down my spine.
“You should stay for a bit.” She says it conversationally, but there’s something in her tone that puts me on edge. It sounds like friendly advice, but it feels like a threat.
“That’s the plan,” I tell her, taking a long drink from my martini.
“Good.”
My muscles tense, anger creeping into my veins. “Not to be rude, but I’ve had a really shit few days, and this is not the conversation I thought we’d have if we ever met.” I turn to glare at her. “What is this? Are you trying to tell me to stay away from them? Or are you marking your territory?”
She scoffs. “Please. Marking my territory? The possessive big brother schtick isn’t exactly my type.” She shoots me a look. “Men like them? You should stay away from them. They’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“And why would I believe you?” I challenge.
