Selina believed in luxury the way most believed in religion—silk, lace, and danger woven together like prayer.

She’d stolen diamonds, dodged bullets, and broken hearts with a smile sharp enough to cut glass. But nothing made her heart race quite like this: standing in front of a full-length mirror, side by side with her wife, both of them in matching black lingerie—custom, of course.

It wasn’t about seduction (though there would be plenty of that later). It was about power. About claiming every inch of themselves in a world that tried to tame women like them.

Cat and thief. Wife and weapon. Twin reflections in lace and confidence.

Selina smirked at the mirror, lips curling. Let the city sleep. The night belonged to them.