Page 4 of Deadly Holiday Kiss

It's the same woman who was just talking to the Pakhan. I have no idea who she is or what makes her so special, whether it's her alone or the man at her side. But she and her companion have been hanging around the head of the Bratva, and now that I have the chance, it might be wise to come up with another safety net other than escape, since the leaders and their immediate guests are strictly off-limits.

"Your dress is stunning," I say as I walk over to the sink next to her and wash my hands. At my compliment, she pulls away from the mirror to face me, batting her eyelashes before her lips stretch into a bright smile.

"Thank you. My fiancé had it custom-made for me," she says and turns back to face herself in the mirror, taking a step back and looking herself up and down.

"Custom made?" I ask.

"Yes, he is a bit extra when it comes to showing me off," she says with a chuckle.

"You’re lucky to have someone who’s proud to show you off," I say, letting the words hang between us. "A lot of women would kill for that kind of attention."

Her smile curls into a small smirk as she looks back at herself in the mirror before turning back to me. "I guess I'm one of the lucky ones," she says, a hint of pride in her voice. "He's not exactly shy about making sure everyone knows I'm his." Another chuckle follows. "Oh, by the way, my name is Evelyn," she says, holding out her hand as she introduces herself, and I take it, completely surprised at how friendly and outgoing she is, considering the people she is surrounded by.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Harlee." I flash her a smile.

"The pleasure is all mine." She offers me a warm, genuine smile. "Your dress is stunning too, the deep red compliments your blue eyes," she points out. "And if you don't mind... do I hear a British accent?"

"Thanks, and yes," I say, "I'm from London and came to the States four years ago."

"London!" Her eyes light up with interest. "This is exciting! Do you like living in New York? I'm sure it was a culture shock at first."

I laugh softly, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, it’s a whole different world from London. But I like it. New York’s got a... unique energy, you know? The pace, the chaos—it kinda suits me. Although I’m not sure I’ll ever really blend in."

Evelyn smiles, her eyes twinkling as she closes her purse and sets it on the counter. "I get that. But that’s half the fun, isn’t it? Here you can be whoever you want to be."

"Exactly." I nod, her words hitting a bit too close to home. In this city, everyone has a mask they wear. The question is, who are they underneath it?

I'm about to ask her another question when I notice that Evelyn's lively and friendly attitude has been replaced by a moreserious expression. "Do you mind if I give you some advice?" she asks, the playfulness in her voice gone.

"What is it?" I frown in confusion. She takes a step forward and her hand lands on the small of my back, just above where my knife is hidden, and I freeze. There's a slight force in her touch that makes my pulse quicken and it takes everything in me not to flinch.

"You need a better place to hide it. While most men are oblivious to the subtle detail of a bulge in your dress, a trained woman will see it, plus it takes too long to grab in an emergency."

I blink quickly, my pulse racing as panic sets in. But before I can react, Evelyn's action takes me completely by surprise. In one smooth motion, she pulls up the skirt of her dress, revealing a strip of lace lingerie and a discreet holster with a blade tucked against her thigh, the strap wrapped just tight enough to keep it hidden under the fabric. With a flick of her wrist, she unbuckles the strap and holds it out to me.

"Wait, don't you need it?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop myself.

"I am not here for a job," she says, "It's just an old habit that is hard to kill. Besides, I can just give my knife to my fiancé to hold on to. He won’t mind."

I want to ask more, to press for details, but the sound of a bird chirping breaks through my thoughts. I glance at the counter where her phone is lighting up, the screen flashing with a notification. "Oh God," she mutters, her fingers brushing over the screen. "Speaking of him, I completely forgot he’s waiting outside." She looks back at me, her expression shifting once again to a bright smile. "I'll help you put the holster on properly, then we should go before anyone gets suspicious." Without waiting for a response, she squats down in front of me.

All previous hesitation vanishes, and I lift my dress, offering her my right thigh, where she skillfully wraps the holster around it and tightens the straps before I hand her the knife, which slides into the designated holder with ease.

"Perfect, now no one will see," she says, pushing herself back to her feet before turning back to the sink and shoving her belongings into her purse.

"Thank you," I say, offering her a warm smile as I adjust my dress, smoothing the fabric over my hips before taking a step back to inspect myself in the mirror. The knife now strapped to my thigh is completely invisible beneath the fabric.

"You're welcome, now let's go," she says, wrapping her arm around mine and leading me to the door.

"Noah!" she calls out a man's name the second we step out of the restroom, raising her arm. Then she turns to me, smiles at me, and winks. "Good luck with your kill," she says, letting go of me and squeezing my arm before bidding farewell and hurrying over to a man, leaning against one of the pillars, a glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His mask is a simple black, like most of the men tonight. While she smiles and engages him in conversation, his face remains somewhat stoic, even as she takes the wine from him, wraps an arm around his and holds onto his biceps.

I wait and watch as they walk down the hallway and disappear through the doors of the VIP room. Taking a deep breath, I smooth out the fabric of my dress one last time before following in their direction.

Chapter 4

Harlee

The moment I step into the VIP room, I'm overwhelmed by the change in atmosphere. The lights are now dimmed while a jazz singer stands on the small stage and performs an exclusive show for the guests who mingle around the room. Some are captivated by the show while others are absorbed in their conversations.

---