The silk of the red gown hissed against Gianna's legs as she moved through the hallway of the Thorne mansion. Her skin felt hypersensitive, the cool air of the corridor biting at her exposed shoulders. And her stomach was twisted into a cold, hard knot.
"Are you sure about this, Gia?"
Gianna stopped, her hand tightening around the strap of her clutch as she turned to see Athena leaning against a doorway. Her friend's eyes were narrowed, filled with a protective concern that almost made Gianna's resolve crumble.
"You don't have to do this," Athena added, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We can find another way to get into the Becketts'. You shouldn't have to sit across from that... that predator and pretend he's your world."
Gianna took a slow, steadying breath, the scent of her own perfume—something dark and floral—filling her senses. "I'm sure, Athena. I'm the only one who can get close enough without raising an alarm. He thinks his charm is infallible. That's his weakness."
