Page 55 of Protect Thy Enemy

And it doesn’t help that it feels like he’s been harder on me since the undercover mission. Training has been relentless, tiresome, and aggravating. It’s like he placed a hit on my head and decided to collect the bounty for himself.

I sigh, stepping away from the mirror.Fake it until you make it.

When I step back into the room, Luna’s fixing her curls in my full-body mirror. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree when she notices me. “Damn, girl. You lookhot. Like, ridiculously hot. If you were gay, I’d do youhot.

“Okay, I get it. I look hot, thanks,” I mumble, grabbing my clutch. “Can we go now?”

“You’re going to be the perfect wingwoman tonight,” she adds, looping her arm through mine.

“Wingwoman?” I raise a brow, already regretting this.

She winks. “Let’s just say I have some things to prove tonight.”

Her words are light, but the tension beneath them isn’t. And as we head out the door, I realize I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for her.

I truly hope we’re not running from gunshots tonight. These heels arewaytoo high.

Chapter Twenty

Arden

Dupont District is nothing like I imagined.

When Luna said “tavern,” I pictured a grimy hole-in-the-wall with sticky floors, dim lighting, and questionable beer on tap.

Instead, the place oozes sophistication with low lighting, sleek wood finishes, and patrons dressed like they just stepped off a New York runway.

Even the hum of conversation feels curated, low, and smooth, blending perfectly with the soft jazz playing in the background.

“Not bad, huh?” Luna nudges me, her nude ombre lips curving into a satisfied smile as she surveys the room. Her green eyes sparkle, daring me to challenge her.

“It’s fine,” I mutter, tugging at the hem of my dress.

She chuckles, a soft, sultry sound, shaking her head. “You are physically incapable of admitting when I’m right.”

“No, I’m not. I just said it’s fine,” I repeat, giving the bar another glance. “Isn’t that enough?”

“For you? Not even close,” she teases, leading the way to the bar.

I follow reluctantly, already regretting letting her talk me into this. The dress, the heels, the makeup, none of it feels like me tonight. Luna, however, glides through the crowd like she owns the place, her confidence both enviable and infuriating.

“You’re brooding,” she says, tossing a knowing look over her shoulder.

“I’m not brooding.”

“Sure you’re not.” She slides onto a barstool, patting the one next to her. “Can you at least try to look like you don’t want to shoot everyone here? I don’t feel like fighting tonight.”

“I don’t look like that.” I’m borderline defensive as I grab a menu to avoid her gaze.

She crosses her legs, leaning in slightly. “Arden,” she says softly, her voice laced with concern. “I’m sorry I forced you to come with me, so if you want to leave, we can. No biggie.”

I sigh, closing the menu. “No, it’s fine. You were right. I needed to get out of the house,” I say, relenting just a bit in hopes she’ll drop it.

“Uh-huh,” she replies, not buying it for a second. “How’s work?”

“How’s Tavia?”

She flinches as if I physically struck her, and guilt gnaws at me immediately.

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