The restaurant was quiet, hidden behind black-tinted glass and gold lights that glowed like fire through the windows. Vincent liked places like this. Private, elegant, expensive enough to keep gossip out.

I sat at the table near the corner, watching the rain trail down the windows. My reflection stared back. I had soft curls falling over one shoulder, lips painted in a shade that looked harmless until the light hit it.

Tonight wasn’t about beauty. It was about control.

When Vincent ...