Rough morning?

Claudine woke with a start, the soft silk sheets feeling like a trap. The faint morning light filtering through the heavy curtains did little to lift the oppressive weight in her chest. She had snuck out of Hades’s party last night, telling him she wasn’t feeling too well, the memories of the warehouse and the shocking encounter with Agent Freida still making her stomach churn.

But even after she’d left, she’d felt his presence, a lingering awareness. She knew he had kept checking on her throughout the night, a subtle intrusion into her private space, even when she wasn’t directly with him.

Despite the dread, a faint, private smile touched her lips as her mind replayed snippets of the club. Wow. She had never done that before.

So many people watching her. The raw, unfiltered pleasure of it, the forbidden thrill. It was unsettling how much a part of her had responded to that audacious display.

Another day, another performance review, she thought wryly, the memory of Freida’s accusing