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Chapter Two: Smoke & Silk
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Brooklyn - Abandoned Loft, 3:42 a.m.
"You did it again, babe!"
Lilah tossed Sienna a half-full bottle of champagne, the cheap kind that fizzed like soda but still burned going down. The loft smelled like fried rice, leather, and victory. Music thumped low from a speaker someone had finally recharged, and colored bulbs cast the walls in soft orange and purple.
Sienna dropped her coat onto a cracked leather couch, chest still rising from the run.
"I didn't do anything," she said, unscrewing the bottle cap and taking a long drink. "You triggered the perfect distraction."
Nico, their hacker and unofficial DJ, snorted. "Please. That was all you. You stared down Aleksandr Moretti like he was a puppy with a gun."
"Yeah," grinned Lilah, curling beside her, "except that puppy could skin a man with his glare."
"Right?" Nico raised his plastic cup. "To Sienna. The woman who stole a look from a man who doesn't let anyone touch him."
They clinked glasses, cheered, laughed.
Sienna forced a smile, but her mind wasn't with them.
It was with him.
---
Flashback - Five Years Ago
Upstate New York Winter Gala
Sienna's heels ached.
Her dress was emerald green satin, slit high enough to earn stares and tight enough to hide nothing. Her hair was coiled like a senator's daughter, her lips painted the color of fresh bruises.
She stood in the corner of the ballroom, champagne in hand, pretending to belong.
At eighteen, she'd just aged out of foster care. No family. No degree. Nothing but rage and a knack for reading people.
Tonight was her first test.
"Remember," hissed the voice in her hidden earpiece. "You're the niece of an oil tycoon from Houston. You inherited diamonds. You're here to flirt, then distract. When he goes for the vault, you keep the senator busy."
Sienna nodded once.
Across the room, her mark stood with his hand on a woman's hip Senator Duclare. Rumored to fund private arms deals. Definitely rich. Definitely dirty.
She moved.
Glided.
Her steps were calculated, lips parted in polite seduction. She laughed at the right moment, reached for the senator's arm like she belonged there.
He noticed. He turned.
And just like that, Sienna Vale stopped being a girl without a name.
She became a weapon.
---
Back in the Loft
"...Earth to Sienna," Nico said, waving a hand in front of her face. "You good?"
She blinked. Her drink was empty.
"Yeah," she murmured, leaning back on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. "Just thinking."
"About what?" Lilah asked, crawling beside her again. "Don Moretti and those cold, murdery eyes?"
Sienna rolled her eyes but didn't answer.
Because yes.
That's exactly what she was thinking about.
---
Elsewhere - Midtown Manhattan
Moretti Headquarters
Aleks pulled up her file.
Sienna Vale. No criminal record. No digital footprint before age 19. Birthplace: Unknown.
Her photo glared up at him.
Something about her didn't add up.
Her movements weren't trained, but they weren't careless either. She wasn't mafia. Not cartel. Not law enforcement. Too young to be a spy. Too bold to be scared.
And yet, when she looked at him...
She didn't flinch.
Most women flinched. Even before they knew he hated touch.
He shut the file.
But her face stayed behind his eyes.
---
Back in Brooklyn
Sienna stood alone by the cracked window of the loft, looking out at the slumbering skyline. Her crew danced behind her, laughter thick like perfume.
She reached into her boot and pulled out a small object.
The USB.
It hadn't been the one they were paid to grab.
It had been on his desk. Sitting in a velvet-lined box.
She hadn't meant to take it.
She just... couldn't help it.
A slow smile crept over her lips.