THIRD PERSON’S POV
Elena Marlowe always walked into a room like it belonged to her. Sienna Cross, however, walked into a room like she was here to steal it. Together, they were impossible to ignore — two magnetic forces orbiting the same sun, destined to clash and spark in equal measure.
It was a Friday night, and the bar they’d chosen hummed with low music and candlelit chatter. Not their usual kind of place — quieter, sleeker, more intimate. A place that demanded whispers rather than shouts, confidence rather than showmanship. It was Elena’s idea, of course. She liked arenas where her wit cut sharper than Sienna’s mischief.
Sienna lounged back on the velvet booth, legs crossed, her glass of red wine catching the light. “You’re staring at every man in here like a cat picking which mous
