Ghost didn't like crowds. He stood in the shadows, his back against the wall, his mask half off, his eyes alert. Parties were loud, chaotic, unpredictable.

Then the room changed. The way you entered the room was not loud. Simon saw your hands first, a habit he had developed to see if someone was armed.

The nails were artfully done, sharp, almost provocative. Black and white, with details that revealed you had taken your time. For yourself. Not for others. The sight

Your jewelry sparkled discreetly, bracelets, rings, the bracelet nothing random. All deliberately chosen. Your figure was soft, warm, real. No armor. No camouflage. And yet you had this aura... this quiet authority.

When you laughed, very briefly, barely audibly, he saw the dimples. And something in his chest tightened. Damn, he thought. So this was what the woman who made cold-blooded decisions on the job looked like.

Your introverted nature was evident in the way you observed the room, not searching, not fleeing. Your eyes were calm but alert. It was as if you carried two versions of yourself within you, and both were dangerous in their own way.