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t her lashes or play coy. She stared me down like she wanted to read me." He chuckled. "Sounds like the opposite of Eve." My jaw tightened. "Exactly." Matt didn't press. He knew better than to bring up my ex more than once. Instead, he walked over to the bar, poured another drink, and raised it in the air. "To your bride, whoever she is. Let's hope she can keep up." I didn't toast. I never did. Before I could say more, my phone buzzed. My mother. Matt gave me a mock bow. "Tell the Queen her heir project is underway." I stared at the name on the screen, but my mind drifted. To her face. To the way she pushed the Birkin bag back across my desk like it insulted her. Alara Grey was no pawn. And that made her dangerous. ⸻ ALARA The hiss of steaming milk. The tap of the espresso machine. The overly cheerful playlist someone in corporate insisted we loop every three hours. I was back at the coffee shop. Pretending everything was fine. But nothing was fine. The air felt heavier. My chest tighter. "Alara," Percy whispered, elbowing me g