The mirrored wall reflected the dim glow of the crystal chandelier above her, its delicate light refracting against the sequins of her midnight-blue gown. The hotel suite was steeped in luxury—soft beige carpets muffled footsteps, while the distant hum of the city reminded them both of the world beyond. Court stood by the doorway, his back against the cold wood, arms crossed, his figure a shadowed sentinel.

His eyes tracked her movements, sharp and assessing. The scientist’s daughter—untouchable, brilliant, and tonight, breathtaking—was an assignment, nothing more. Yet, as she fastened a diamond earring, he caught the faintest tremor in her hand. Beneath the poised exterior, she was just as aware of the stakes as he was.

He scanned the room again, the tension in his chest coiling tighter. The balcony doors were locked, the skyline beyond a jagged, glittering threat. The glass of the suite might as well have been paper-thin; enemies had a way of finding cracks where there should be none. And tonight, the charity dinner would gather not just the wealthy, but wolves in tailored suits. He didn’t need intel to know she’d be a target.

Her perfume—something soft, floral, but restrained—reached him as she turned, her gaze catching his in the mirror. There was curiosity in her expression, perhaps defiance too. He shouldn’t notice those things, but the way the light framed her face had a way of slipping through his defenses.

"Don’t get used to this," he said, voice low, almost gravelly, a warning as much for himself as for her.