Not just any tux shop. It was sleek, modern, and almost too clean for a place that dealt with secrets deadlier than a bullet. A velvet front for the information ring I helped set up during my college days, when I wasn’t juggling illegal arms, assassinations, and political coups.
Those were simpler times, really.
Behind the velvet curtains and the glass shelves of imported Italian bowties was a backroom that traded intel like stocks. My friend, Lucas, ran it now, ever the quiet fox, too smart for his own good and too discreet for Alec to ignore.
That’s why Alec was there. I saw him before he saw me. He stood near the counter, trying on an ash-grey jacket that hugged his broad shoulders too perfectly. His dark hair was slicked back, jaw tight, and that permanent scowl etched between his b
