Viv:
The light above the mirror buzzed faintly, flickering every few seconds like it couldn’t decide whether to die or stay alive. Same. I stared at my reflection in the cracked glass, watching myself paint on that red lipstick—war paint, really. My fingers moved with muscle memory, even as my mind wandered miles away. Somewhere between the ache in my ribs and the way Knox had kissed me this morning, I didn’t know who the hell I was right now.
“Viv, you’re up. Private dance in the back room. Asked for you.”
I blinked slowly at the boss’s voice through the door. No knock, no grace. Just a barked command like always.
“Yeah,” I said, loud enough to be heard. “Be right there.”
I capped the lipstick, rolled my shoulders, adjusted my top. The heels pinched. The leather cut high. And the wor
