“You’re not coming.”

Adrian’s voice was calm, controlled, one of those low, even tones that cloaked arrogance like silk. He straightened his cufflinks as if the matter were already settled, his eyes flicking to her in the mirror like she was nothing more than a reflection to manage.

Naya stood still, arms crossed over the dress she didn’t pick to be dismissed in. It hugged her like defiance, sleek, sharp, dark. Her hair was pulled high and tight, lips a soft nude, emerald earrings ...