"You are not a ghost anymore, Alina. You are a billboard."
Dimitris throws the heavy cream card onto the glass coffee table. It lands with a slap that echoes in the silent penthouse. "The city is whispering. They say you are weak. They say the alliance is a sham. Tonight, we prove them wrong."
I stare at the gold-embossed script. The Annual Athenian Charity Gala.
"I'm not ready," I say, my voice tight. "I haven't slept in three days. I jump when the toaster pops."
"You don't have to be rested," Stavros says. He steps out of the bedroom, fixing his onyx cufflinks. He’s wearing a tuxedo that fits his massive frame like armor. He looks devastating. Lethal. And completely unbothered by the fact that someone tried to rappel into our window yesterday.
"You just have to stand next to me," he
