The guards were ten feet away. Serena put a hand on the velvet-roped railing and vaulted.

She fell through the air, the bass vibrating in her teeth. She landed in a crouch on top of a massive speaker stack in the center of the dance floor.

Screams of surprise rippled through the crowd.

Serena didn't hesitate. She slid down the side of the speaker and vanished into the mass of writhing bodies. She ripped the platinum wig off, stuffing it into her jacket, shaking out her natural dark hair.

"Lock the doors!" Julian's voice cut through the noise. He was moving, pushing through the crowd with terrifying purpose.

Serena saw the side exit. Blocked. Preston was standing there. The front? Wall of meat.

She needed cover. She needed a shield.

She saw him. The man from the shadows. Tall, commanding, radiating an aura that made people instinctively step away from him.

Julian. The man from the file. Her fiancé.

He was scanning the faces, his eyes narrowing. He was the hunter.

Serena ran. Not away from him, but at him.

She collided with his chest. It was like hitting a marble wall.

Julian's hands came up instinctively, gripping her waist to steady her. Her waist was impossibly thin beneath his fingers.

"Help," she gasped, pitching her voice high.

A guard pointed a flashlight beam toward them. "There! The girl in black!"

Serena looked up. Her eyes, framed by the silver mask, locked with his. They were wild, desperate, and mocking.

"Excuse me," she whispered.

She went up on her toes. She grabbed his lapels and pulled him down.

She smashed her lips against his.

Julian froze. His brain short-circuited. He expected a fight, a weapon. He didn't expect the taste of mint and adrenaline.

He didn't push her away. He couldn't. Her mouth was demanding, hot, and soft.

Serena's hand slid inside his suit jacket. The safest place is on the enemy. She slipped the cold, metallic drive into his inner pocket.

The guard stopped, lowering his flashlight. "Mr. Sterling? Uh... sorry, sir."

No one interrupted Julian Sterling when he was with a woman.

Serena broke the kiss. She lingered for a second, her forehead resting against his chin. Her breath hitched.

"Keep it safe for me," she murmured against his neck.

She spun, using his body to block the guard's line of sight, and ducked into the service corridor that Julian had just emerged from.

Julian stood there. He raised a hand to his lips. They were tingling.

He reached into his pocket. His fingers brushed against cold metal.

Preston ran up, breathless. "Sir? Are you injured? That woman..."

Julian pulled the drive out halfway, then shoved it back down. A slow, dark smile spread across his face. It wasn't a nice smile.

"No," Julian said. "I'm not injured."

"The guards are asking if they should pursue."

"Let her go," Julian said. "She's a friend."

In the alleyway, Serena leaned against the brick wall, gasping for air. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Jax pulled up. "Got it?"

"It's safe," Serena said. "But I have to go back for it."

She closed her eyes, the image of the man's face burning behind her lids. High cheekbones, gray eyes, a scar on his eyebrow.

She groaned, sliding down the wall.

"What?" Jax asked.

"I just French-kissed my fiancé."

The dining room at the Vance estate was bathed in morning light, but the air was thick with tension.

Serena sat at the table, wearing a high-collared white dress that made her look like a nun. She stirred her oatmeal, her face a mask of polite disinterest.

Her phone buzzed in her lap. Jax: 24 hours. Or the encryption locks permanently.

Harrison rattled his newspaper. Eleanor was carefully slicing a melon, her movements slow and shaky.

"Mr. Sterling has arrived," Chambers announced from the doorway.

Serena choked on her water. She coughed, grabbing a napkin. Too fast.

Harrison beamed. "Julian! Wonderful. Come in, come in."

Julian walked in. He wore a charcoal suit that fit him like armor. He didn't look at Harrison. His eyes went straight to Serena.

He stopped. He blinked.

The girl at the table looked... boring. meek. Her shoulders were hunched slightly.

"Mr. Sterling," Serena squeaked, keeping her eyes on her bowl.

"I apologize for the intrusion," Julian said, his voice smooth, dark chocolate wrapped in razor blades. "I believe your daughter left something behind last night."

Serena's head snapped up.

Julian reached into his pocket. He pulled out an earring. A diamond stud.

It wasn't the drive.

"You dropped this," Julian said, walking over to her. "While you were... out."

"Oh!" Serena stood up, her chair scraping the floor. "Yes. I was... at the library. I must have lost it there."

Julian stood close to her. Too close. He smelled of the same cologne that had clung to her skin last night.

"The library," Julian repeated. "I thought perhaps you were somewhere more... exciting."

"I don't know what you mean," Serena said, widening her eyes. "I just like to read."

"Reading," Julian said flatly. "Fascinating."

Harrison clapped his hands. "Why don't you two take a walk in the garden? Get to know each other."

"I'd love that," Julian said. His eyes promised murder.

They walked out onto the terrace. The moment they were out of earshot of the house, Julian's posture changed. The polite guest vanished. The predator emerged.

He cornered her against a stone balustrade.

"Who sent you?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Serena blinked, shrinking back. "Julian... what are you talking about? You're scaring me."

"Cut the act," Julian snarled. "The woman at the club. The thief. Is she on your payroll? Did my grandmother send her?"

Serena paused. He didn't know. He thought she was the mastermind, not the thief. The contrast between the badass in the mask and the mouse in the white dress was too great.

Good.

Serena straightened her spine. Just a fraction. She dropped the squeak from her voice.

"If you know about the item," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "then give it back."

Julian raised an eyebrow. "Why should I? That kiss... that comes with a price tag."

Serena stepped closer. She looked up at him, letting a flash of the "Ghost" bleed through the "Vance" mask.

"What do you want?"

Julian pulled out his phone. "Your number. Your real number. I want to know exactly what game you are playing."

Serena gritted her teeth. She took his phone and punched in the digits.

"Call me," she said.

"Oh, I will," Julian smirked. He pocketed the phone. "Nice dress, by the way. It almost hides the fact that you're a terrible liar."

Serena paced the length of her room.

"You left the drive with him?" Jax's voice crackled in her earpiece. He sounded like he was strangling a cat.

"He can't open it," Serena said, checking her reflection. "It has a bio-lock. It's safer with him than in my sock drawer."

Her phone buzzed.

Julian: Sterling Hotel. Penthouse. 8 PM. Come alone. And come clean.

Serena typed back. Serena: My dearest fiancé, isn't that a bit fast for a first date? ;)

Julian: Don't push me. Be there.

She threw the phone on the bed. She needed to go. But downstairs, the house was waking up for dinner.

Victoria Vance, her cousin, breezed into the hallway. She was wearing a shimmering blue gown.

"Oh, Serena," Victoria said, her voice dripping with fake syrup. "I forgot to tell you. Aunt Eleanor wants us all to go to the symphony tonight. But... I assume you wouldn't enjoy it. Too... complex?"

Serena checked the time. 7:00 PM.

"Right," Serena said. "I only listen to banjo music."

Victoria smirked. "Well, don't worry. I told Aunt Eleanor you were feeling sick. Migraine from all the... thinking."

"You're a lifesaver, Vicky," Serena said dryly.

Victoria flounced off.

Serena waited ten minutes. Then she moved.

She shed the white dress. She pulled on a crimson slip dress. It was silk, backless, and had a slit that went up to her thigh. On her thigh, strapped with lace, was a ceramic knife.

She opened the window.

"Going somewhere?"

Serena froze. She looked down.

Chambers was standing in the garden, holding a pair of pruning shears. He was looking up at her, his expression unreadable behind his glasses.

Serena gripped the windowsill. "I need fresh air."

"Dressed like that?" Chambers asked. "The last time I saw a young woman dressed for a... formal evening... she was driving a two-ton vehicle out of a mud ditch. I trust tonight's excursion is less eventful?"

Serena sighed. "Chambers. I need to go. It's important."

Chambers looked at her. He looked at the dangerous glint in her eyes. He remembered the mud pit. He remembered the car.

He adjusted his glasses.

"The side gate is unlocked, Miss Vance. And if I may suggest... take the Jaguar. It handles corners better."

Serena stared at him. Then, a genuine smile broke across her face.

"Thank you, Chambers."

"I serve the family, Miss," Chambers said, turning back to his roses. "And you are certainly... family."

Serena dropped to the grass. She ran to the garage.

She texted Julian.

On my way. Have the champagne ready.

In the penthouse, Julian poured two glasses. He set them on the coffee table. He sat on the sofa, the drive sitting in the center of the table like a holy relic.

"Let the games begin," he whispered.