She appears at Valen’s gala like a ghost wearing skin.
Elegant, Red-lipped, Dangerous.
The chandeliers catch the shimmer of her dress as she steps into the room, blood-red silk that clings like a secret. Gasps ripple through the crowd. Conversations die mid-sentence. Everyone knows the name they’re not supposed to say.
Maya.
The woman who vanished three years ago.
The one who left a ring on the altar and a body in her wake.
Valen freezes beside me. His grip on his glass tightens until I hear the faint crack. For a second, I swear he stops breathing. The predator in him,the man who commands rooms and silences enemies disappears. What’s left is something worse: recognition.
She smiles, Slow, Sinful Like she’s been waiting for this moment longer than any of us have been alive.
“Well,”
