“Drink?” she offers, tilting her chin toward the bartender.
I shake my head. “Just water for now.”
The bartender hands me a glass, and I settle in beside Elsie. Mid sip something catches my eye. Or rather,someone.
A woman moves through the crowd like she owns the room, her presence impossible to ignore. Her hair is a cascade of fire under the dim lighting, and there’s a sharpnessto the way she carries herself. Graceful, but with an edge. I can tell she’s used to getting exactly what she wants.
And right now, she wants Knox.
It’s in the way her eyes linger on him, the way she subtly shifts her posture to draw him in, like a cat toying with its prey. Her throaty, teasing laugh slips through the air, just loud enough to reach him. He may not be fully aware of it, but she’s already got him in her sights.
My grip tightens around my glass as she nears him.Nothing about the way she moves is coincidental. There’s precision to the way she closes the space between them, like a chess piece sliding into place.
Knox glances up just as she reaches him and recognition flashes across his face.
The knot in my stomach pulls tight.
I can tell they’re acquainted by the way their bodies align, the ease of their proximity, but Knox’s expression is anything but welcoming. His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath his skin. And his eyes, usually so warm when they land on me, are narrow and hard. There’s a flash of darkness beneath the surface. Not just tension. Fury.Maybe even something worse.
The air shifts, thickening around them, crackling with an energy I don’t understand.
I don’t wait for it to make sense. The unease that curls in my stomach turns urgent, and I know I can’t stay seated any longer. Without thinking, I stand and head in their direction.
Knox is still. Too still. His body, taut with restraint, doesn’t give an inch. The woman, though, is the opposite. Liquid confidence. A slow tilt of her head. A curve of her lips.
A cold shiver slithers across my skin.
Something’s wrong.
I slip my hand into his, but the moment our fingers touch,his entire body goes rigid. Tension coils beneath his skin like he’s holding back a surge of emotion too volatile to let loose.
For a fleeting second, I wonder ifI’mthe problem. Then his eyes find mine and there’s a shift. Just barely, but enough. The hard edge in his gaze dulls, a silent message passing between us. Whatever this is, he doesn’t want me in the crossfire.
The woman in front of me is even more striking up close. Her features are harsh, almost sculpted. High cheekbones and arched eyebrows. It’s the way she looks at me—cool, assessing, dismissive—that sends a slow prickle of unease down my spine.
“And who would this be?” Her voice is laced with something sweetly poisonous as her gaze drags over me, unimpressed.
Knox’s grip tightens around mine. “Hallie. Don’t.”
The way Knox says her name carries a weight I can’t ignore, a warning laced with cold finality.
She doesn’t flinch. If anything, that smirk of hers only becomes more provoking. It’s like she knows exactly how to push his buttons, and now, she’s just twisting the knife for fun.
I don’t pull my hand away, even as his fingers flex like he’s fighting with himself.
“Don’t what?” she asks, her voice low and silky, the tilt of her head making the innocence sound entirely calculated. “I was just being polite.”
With a practiced grace, she extends her hand, the motion almost too smooth.
“Hello,” she says, her lips curving into something that barely resembles a smile. “I’m Hallie MacKenzie. Knox’swife.”
thirty-four
JULIETTE
Wife.
The word slams into me, knocking the air from my lungs, impossible to unhear. It echoes in louder than the music, louder than the blood roaring in my ears. My breath catches and my stomach drops so fast it feels like I’ve missed a step on solid ground.
