The vanity mirror in the guest suite was framed in soft, golden light, but the woman staring back looked like a stranger to herself. Ava Thorne smoothed the fabric of her gown a midnight-blue silk that clung to her curves like a second skin, ending in a modest but lethal slit up the left thigh. It wasn't the dress of a "Blackwood Wife." It was the armor of a woman who had come to collect a debt.
"Mommy, you look like a star," Mia whispered from the doorway. The little girl was dressed in a matching miniature silk dress, her curls pinned back with a small silver clip.
Ava reached out, squeezing Mia’s hand. "And you look like a princess. Remember the rule for tonight, Mia?"
"Stay with Marcus and never go anywhere with the man in the suit unless you say so," Mia recited perfectly.
"And if
