Page 7 of Lady and the Hitman
I startled at the voice behind me.
Mina.
She dropped into the seat across from me with an iced oat latte in one hand and a vibe like she hadn’t ever second-guessed herself a day in her life. Her jumpsuit was the color of rust and clung to her in all the right places. A thin gold chain disappeared into her cleavage. She wore no bra and didn’t care.
I lifted my sunglasses and gave her a long, flat stare. “Do you just appear whenever I start spiraling, or is this cosmic punishment?”
“Spiraling?” She leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Oh, my God. You heard something, didn’t you? About the?—”
“I didn’t say anything.” I glanced around, lowered my voice. “And we don’t say the name out loud.”
Mina rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. “Relax. This place is full of data journalists and freelance UX witches. They’re all too busy trying to figure out how to ethically monetize their TikToks.”
I gave her a look.
She smirked. “Okay, fine. But tell me something happened. You’re glowing.”
“I’m sweating.”
“No. That’s post-orgasm glow. Don’t lie to me.”
I pressed my lips together and stared out the window.
Mina was the only person who knew about the letter. She hadn’t asked to be. I’d called her the night I sent it and immediately regretted it, but she’d just laughed, told me to hydrate, and promised I wouldn’t die.
She’d been different since her own experience. Still loud. Still a policy nerd with razor-sharp instincts and a sticker on her laptop that saidPunch Nazis in the Face. But she’d loosened. Her shoulders didn’t live up near her ears anymore. She spoke slower. Less like she was trying to win something.
It was like part of her had been claimed.
And she’d liked it.
I hated how badly I wanted to understand that.
Mina took another sip of her latte, watching me like she was waiting for the confession I hadn’t decided to give.
“Nothing happened,” I said. “Just … insomnia and poor life choices.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, foreplay, basically.”
I gave her a look. “Are you always like this in the morning?”
“Only with women who’ve clearly done something depraved and are trying to disguise it.” She leaned back, crossing her legs under the table. “Seriously. You’ve got that look. Like your brain’s still in cuffs.”
And that was what scared me now.
Because what if I’d invited someone into my life—a stranger, no less—who didn’t see that line at all?
What if this man wasn’t just a dominant fantasy?
What if he was actually dangerous?
“Earth to Zara.”
I blinked and looked up. Mina was watching me with narrowed eyes and an irritating grin.
“Jesus,” she said. “What kind of letter did you write?”
“The kind I probably shouldn’t have.”
