Page 1 of My Vigilante Valentine

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perfectly reasonable

I juggled the deposit bag and my iced coffee in one hand, taking a sip while also scrolling on my phone as I pushed through the glass doors of the bank.

Multitasking was my superpower.

Well, chaotic multitasking. Effective in an I-get-things-done-but-also-might-trip-over-my-own-feet kind of way.

“Luna, what are you doing?” Chris asked, grabbing the door before it smacked me in the face.

I tore my eyes away from my screen long enough to shoot my cousin a deeply offended look. “Coffee shop drama.” I flipped the phone around so he could see. “The owner of Caffeine Fiend just made a cryptic post about ‘some people having no business running a business,’ and she better not be talking about me and mine.”

Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sure she isn’t.”

“Didn’t you think it was weird that she came into Wilde Brew for coffee yesterday?She owns her own coffee shop.What reason could she possibly have for stepping foot in mine unless it was for nefarious reasons?”

“Nefarious?”

I shrugged.

Was that a bit dramatic? Maybe.

But Wilde Brew was my life, and the way social media could either make or break a small business these days had me taking my competition’s vague dis very seriously.

“Maybe she’s sick of her own coffee, and she’s talking about herself,” Chris suggested.

I shot him a mock glare as we got in line to make my weekly deposit. “Doubt it, but fine. I’ll let it go.”

“And I doubtthat, but fine.”

My cousin was more like a brother, and we’d grown up together as best friends. But that just meant he had the power to get on my nerves like no one else. “Are you here for moral support or to judge me?”

Chris smirked. “Neither. I’m here because I foolishly agreed to hang out with you on your day off, and somehow, that still means running errands for the shop.”

“Oh, hush. It’soneerrand. And I promised you pancakes after. Blueberry pancakes. Also, I wore my cherry-red diner booth sneakers for the occasion.”

I collected fun sneakers. Wearing basics under my apron at Wilde Brew felt a little easier to swallow when I could match my kicks to my mood.

We moved forward in the line, and he tapped his fingers against his chin like he was genuinely weighing his options. “Hmm. Blueberry pancakes, or escape while I still can…”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, I’m your favorite cousin.”

“Also, myonlycousin,” I shot back, giving Chris a smirk as we shuffled forward.

Chris opened his mouth—probably to clap back because that was his favorite pastime—when a sharp click echoed through the bank.

It was the kind of click that didn’t belong in a place where people were supposed to be making uneventful Tuesday morning deposits.

Why? Because it was the sound of the doors locking.

As in…locking us in.

But I barely had time to process what that could mean before a voice sliced through the air, loud and commanding. “Everyone on the ground!”

Wait, what?

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