The city skyline glittered like a carpet of crushed diamonds as dusk settled over the urban sprawl. The rooftop bar of the Luxe Meridian pulsed with a sultry undercurrent, its amber lights casting long, seductive shadows across sleek marble tables. Mya perched on a high stool at the edge of the bar, her crimson dress clinging to her curves like a second skin. The fabric was a deliberate choice—part camouflage, part weapon. It screamed “look at me” while whispering “don’t see me.” She was a predator in a den of prey, and tonight, she was hunting.
Her target, one Victor Crane, a smarmy businessman with a penchant for extracurricular activities, sat three tables over, his cheap suit straining against his paunch as he leaned too close to a woman who wasn’t his wife. Mya’s client, the soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Crane, had paid a small fortune for proof of his infidelity, and Mya was nothing if not thorough. Her dark eyes flicked to Victor every few seconds, tracking his every leering smirk, while her posture remained deceptively casual, one long leg crossed over the other, a martini glass dangling lazily between her fingers.
She was in her element—until the bartender decided to make himself a problem.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he drawled, leaning across the polished counter with a grin that screamed “I’ve watched too many rom-coms.” He was all tousled hair and overconfidence, his white shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off a chest he clearly spent too much time grooming. “You look like trouble. The kind I’d like to get into.”
Mya didn’t miss a beat, her lips curving into a smirk sharp enough to cut glass. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m the kind of trouble that comes with a warning label and a restraining order. You sure you can handle the fine print?”
He chuckled, undeterred, wiping a nonexistent spot on the bar just to keep his hands busy. “I’m a quick reader. Name’s Jace, by the way. And I’m guessing a woman like you doesn’t just sit here looking like sin for no reason. What’s your story?”
She tilted her head, her gaze sliding over him like she was appraising a used car. “My story’s a bestseller, Jace, but I don’t give out free copies. How about you stick to pouring drinks and leave the detective work to me?”
His brows shot up, intrigue lighting his hazel eyes. “Detective work, huh? So you’re a mystery. I love a good puzzle. Tell me, Red, are you here to break hearts or just steal mine?”
Mya laughed, a low, throaty sound that carried an edge of danger. She leaned in just enough to make him think he’d won a round, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial purr. “If I were here to steal anything, sugar, it wouldn’t be something as fragile as a heart. Now, how about you refresh this martini before I decide to mix my own?”
Jace grinned, clearly enjoying the sparring match, and reached for the shaker. “Yes, ma’am. But I gotta warn you, I mix a mean drink. Might just knock you off your game.”
“Darling, I don’t get knocked off anything,” she shot back, her eyes glinting with mischief. “But I’ll let you try. Make it dirty. I like a little grit.”
As he busied himself with the drink, Mya’s gaze darted back to Victor. He was laughing too loudly now, his hand resting on the woman’s thigh under the table. Amateur, she thought, snapping a discreet photo with the tiny camera hidden in her bracelet. Her pulse ticked up—not from nerves, but from the thrill of the chase. She lived for this, the tightrope walk between exposure and control.
Jace slid the fresh martini across the bar, his fingers brushing hers just a little too long. “There you go, Red. One dirty martini for the dirtiest mind in the room. So, you gonna tell me who you’re scoping out, or do I have to guess?”
Mya’s smile didn’t falter, but her tone turned icy, a velvet glove over a steel fist. “Keep guessing, barkeep. But here’s a hint: it’s not you. And if you don’t stop fishing, I might just throw you back into the shallow end of the dating pool.”
He clutched his chest in mock pain. “Ouch, that’s cold. But I like a challenge. How about I keep you company while you… investigate? I’ve got a knack for spotting trouble.”
She sipped her drink, letting the burn of the vodka linger on her tongue before replying. “Trouble’s already found me, Jace. And I don’t play well with sidekicks. So unless you’ve got intel on every sleaze in this bar, how about you stick to shaking and stirring?”
His laugh was genuine, a little too loud, and Mya’s jaw tightened. She couldn’t afford attention—not with Victor now glancing around the bar, his beady eyes narrowing as if he sensed a predator in the room. Her heart rate spiked, but her expression remained a perfect mask of indifference. She shifted on her stool, angling her body to obscure her face from Victor’s line of sight while still keeping him in her peripheral vision.
“Fine, I’ll behave,” Jace said, raising his hands in surrender. “But I’m keeping an eye on you, Red. Something tells me you’re more dangerous than you look.”
“Oh, honey,” Mya purred, her voice dripping with honeyed menace as she leaned closer, her breath ghosting over his ear. “I’m exactly as dangerous as I look. And if you’re smart, you’ll stay on the safe side of the bar. Deal?”
He swallowed hard, the cocky facade cracking just enough for her to see the flicker of genuine heat in his eyes. “Deal. But I’m holding you to that drink later. You know, when you’re done… whatever this is.”
She pulled back, her smirk returning full force. “Keep dreaming, Jace. I don’t do ‘later’ with boys who can’t keep up.”
As he retreated to the other end of the bar, shaking his head with a grin, Mya refocused on Victor. He was standing now, guiding his companion toward the elevators with a hand on her lower back. Mya’s lips pressed into a thin line. Time to move. She slid off the stool with the grace of a panther, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she adjusted her purse—where a backup camera and a taser waited, just in case.
The game was on, and Mya was playing to win. Victor didn’t know it yet, but he was already caught in her web. And as for Jace? Well, he was a distraction she didn’t need—but damn if she didn’t enjoy the banter. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, catching his eye just long enough to wink before disappearing into the crowd, her red dress a flash of fire in the dim light.
The night was young, and Mya was just getting started.
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