The doorbell rang just as Willow fastened the clasp of her earrings.
The sound cut through the quiet of her apartment — soft, insistent, pulling her from the mirror where she'd been studying the stranger staring back at her.
The red dress fit like it had been sewn from temptation itself. Smooth satin clung to her waist, dipped low across her back, and split high along one thigh — elegant enough for a Cordell dinner, lethal enough to make Miles sweat.
She had taken a long, scalding bath to wash away the day's exhaustion — though some thoughts had been harder to rinse away than others. Afterward, she'd chosen carefully: dainty dangle-chain earrings that caught the light with every movement, subtle but deliberate. Her hair she swept into a low chignon, neat yet undone at the edges, with fine wisps teasing the sides of her face and the curve of her neck, enhancing its length and quiet seduction.
Her reflection met her gaze with a faint, steady smirk.
Not vanity. Recognition.
