The dressing room was a quiet battlefield of heavy silk and polished steel.
Aurora stood before the grand, three-way mirror, her reflection that of a dangerous stranger wrapped in obsidian silk. The floor-length gown was a masterpiece of bespoke tactical engineering form-fitting, elegant, with a sheer, high-thigh slit that revealed just enough bare skin to captivate a room while concealing a custom leather thigh holster and an air-gapped micro-encryption drive taped against her skin.
She had selected every detail with cold precision. The gown. The stiletto heels. The diamond choker crafted with reinforced titanium threading that could double as a deadly garrote in an emergency.
This was high-society armor. Not the kind designed to stop bullets, but the kind engineered to silence questio
