Knox:
She left me with nothing but the soft echo of her heels and the scent of trouble.
Vivienne.
Yeah, I’d heard her name before, but hearing it from my own mouth just now… it hit different. Hit deep. Like something that’d always belonged on my tongue.
She walks off, hips swinging like a f*****g dare, slipping through the crowd toward the back rooms like she didn’t just light me on fire with a goddamn look. No invite. No words.
Just a look over her shoulder that said: If you want it, come get it.
And f**k me if I don’t.
I toss back the last of my drink and push off the bar, ignoring Riot’s low whistle behind me. “You’re either gonna get laid or murdered,” he calls after me.
“Maybe both,” I mutter.
Wouldn’t even be mad.
The crowd parts around her like they know better. Like they
