Page 8

I unfolded the paper. A photograph was clipped to the corner, and beneath it a name in plain black type. Thaddeus “Ted” Calloway. Texas state senator.

Silver at the temples. An easy smile built for campaign posters. A wedding ring, a flag pin in his lapel. The face of a man who had never been told no.

This was why they needed an outsider. A man like that had friends in every office that mattered, and none of them could be seen to flinch.

It wasn't my first politician. It wouldn't be my last. My roots knew exactly what men like Calloway cost the people beneath them.

Zero had said one hit. Zero hadn't lied. He had simply left things out. In our line of work, the two were cousins.

Now came the waiting. Some jobs took hours, others weeks, but either way I had time to prepare every detail. The entry point mattered. The exit mattered more. Outside, the freeway hummed on. I set my phone on the nightstand where I could reach it without looking, and began to plan.

Chapter 3

Zuri

The girls walked me to the exit and tried to peer past the doorway to Adrián’s car, but it was parked too far away. Brielle whooped. Sofia pressed both hands to her heart. Imani only folded her arms and nodded once, like a general sending someone off.

I blew them a kiss before I turned.

My heels clicked along the pathway, loud in the evening hush, until I reached the sidewalk. The sun had slipped behind the apartment blocks and left the sky a bruised orange. The heat hadn’t broken. It rose from the pavement in slow waves, warm against my ankles, and somewhere in the trees the cicadas had begun their evening scream.

“Keep your location on,” Mika shouted.

I laughed and waved at her. She didn’t need to worry, but my location was on. I had checked it twice. My phone sat in my clutch at sixty-four percent, the group chat still glowing with the hearts from the Lioness Check, emerald, ivory, emerald, ivory.

Adrián wasn’t like the usual boys around campus. He was mature in a way that other boys in their twenties weren’t. He hadn’t pressured me or crossed a line. He remembered the small things, and in a world that rushed past me, that felt like being seen.

Heck, he had even stopped by my aunt’s store and knew the name of my childhood pet. I had decided it was sweet, and nothing more.

A car door cracked open at the end of the row, and I held my breath.

Would he like me in person?

Three weeks of messages. Three weeks of late-night replies and good-morning texts. Everything I knew about him had come through a screen.

He stepped out and straightened. A smart white shirt, black slacks, a thin chain glinting at his open collar. His smile did the rest. His curls were soft and perfectly defined, the sides faded clean.

I tried not to stare. I failed.

“Zuri,” he whispered as he walked closer. His voice was lower than it had been on the phone. “You look amazing.”

He took my hands and glanced down at my dress. His thumbs brushed over my new nails and paused at the gold ring on my finger.

“That’s beautiful. Family?”

“My mother’s,” I said.

“Then she has good taste.” He raised one of my hands to his lips. “You’re more than I deserve.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. I was grateful for the dusk.

“Hey, Adrián,” I said, suddenly feeling shy.

“This feels like fate,” he sighed.

I was about to bite my lip, but I would only end up licking all that strawberry gunk off. I pressed them together instead and touched the little gold lioness at my throat.

“It really does,” I said.