Hours of shopping, then getting her hair done, and Iris was as ready as she would ever be.

The time it took to look this way simply for a single outing was crazy, but as Calavera had explained, it was necessary

Her hair was styled in loose waves that looked effortless, and the dress she wore did amazing things for her figure. She definitely looked the part. Now she just needed to follow through.

“Ready?” Synek called from the other room, his voice snapping her out of the trance she’d fallen into while staring at her reflection in the mirror.

Calavera hadn’t been wrong when she said her dress was meant for the fundraiser itself rather than Synek, but that didn’t stop her from hoping he liked it.

Iris chewed on her lip a moment before remembering she was wearing lipstick before she finally turned and headed for the door.

While she had been caught up in wondering how she looked in her dress, she hadn’t stopped to consider her reaction to seeing Synek in a suit.

She liked him in jeans and leather and would probably love that above everything else, but he was something else in a suit tailored for his height and build—the vest he wore cut to show off his broad shoulders.

While she took a moment to appreciate the sight of him like that, he was standing in front of another mirror with a scowl on his face as he fidgeted with the tie around his neck.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered to himself as he tried unsuccessfully to straighten the knot but only managed to make it worse if that was possible.

Seeing him flustered made her smile. “Let me help.”

“I’ve got—”

He started to speak as he looked up at her through the mirror but abruptly cut off before turning around completely. If she had any fears that he wouldn’t like it, the expression on his face completely wiped it away.

He looked transfixed.

His gaze followed her every step from the top of the landing until she was standing directly in front of him, reaching to undo the knot he’d made.

Without warning, he bent and hooked an arm around her waist to lift her, carrying her back until they were in the kitchen and he could place her on the island. It brought back memories of the last time he’d carried her like that and how he’d placed her in this very spot for something a little less innocent than admiring a dress.

“How high does this go?” he asked, resting his palm on her knee exposed by the slit in her dress.

She shouldn’t take as much satisfaction from the way his voice had deepened and his gaze had gone intense at just the sight of her, but she really shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his expression grew slack when she crossed her legs and demonstrated just how high the cut of her dress went.

And when she was sure she had his attention, she shifted just the slightest bit to show him a peek of the crystal chain encircling her thigh.

It had been a spontaneous purchase when they were at the boutique, as well as the few other things she had bought as well—lingerie she thought he would like.

But she bought this garter—the chain that wrapped around her middle then dipped to encircle both thighs—to get the exact reaction she was getting now.

Synek didn’t hesitate to trace his fingers over it, heat spreading in the wake of his touch. She knew the strength he possessed—the way he could probably break it with one sharp jerk of his hand, and it was the thought of that power that made need pool in her belly.

She wanted him more than she could put into words.

“I don’t like to share,” he whispered, his gaze now intent on her face, his presence nearly overwhelming.

“You don’t have to,” she said in return.

There was no one else she wanted.

Things might have still been undefined between them, but in her head, she belonged to him.

“They’re gonna look,” he said, just as soft, his fingers skimming to her waist, pulling her against him until he settled between her legs. “I don’t think I’m gonna know the difference. I can’t promise I won’t react.”

She didn’t doubt he meant that.

Synek tended not to react well when men ogled her. The first time had been before any real emotions were ever between them. Now … now she wasn’t so sure what he would do.

It was her turn to skim her fingers up his chest, loving the hard lines beneath the soft material of his suit. In the fourteen days following the end of the Wraiths, they’d hardly spent any time outside of the four-poster bed in his bedroom—their bedroom as he liked to say, considering she hadn’t gone back to her room since night of the storm. Even still, it wasn’t nearly enough.

She wanted him just as much now as she had in the beginning, and she was starting to wonder if that feeling would ever go away. Whether she would ever get used to actually having him to herself.

“Three minutes,” he said with a grin, cupping her face to tilt her head up so she looked at him. “I’ll be quick.”

They both knew what he could accomplish in those three minutes—and just the memory of what he’d done the last time made a flush crawl over her face. But she also knew that three minutes was never three minutes with him, and if they crawled into his bed now, she couldn’t be sure she would ever want to leave it.

“After,” she said, finishing with his tie and smoothing her hand down the length of it. “Then you can see what I’m wearing beneath this dress.”

His torn expression actually made her laugh. “That doesn’t sound fair, dove.”

“Patience is a virtue, Syn.”

He shook his head. His gaze still locked on her legs. “I’m all out of that.”

Before she could shake the impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him. She meant to just brush her lips against his and satiate herself with just a taste of him, but at the moment of contact, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

Synek made a low sound in the back of his throat, pulling away just far enough so he could say, “D’you want to get fucked right now?”

Yes. Yes, she did. “We can’t.”

The fundraiser wouldn’t start for a little over an hour, but judging from the mood he was in, they would only just be starting when that hour was up. They just didn’t have the time.

Seeming to come to the same realization, he scrubbed a hand down his face, forcing himself to take a step back. “We need to go … before I change my mind.”

Iris slid off the counter onto shaky legs, just as affected by him as he was by her.

Tonight couldn’t be over fast enough.

* * *

His suit wasn’t the only surprise of the night.

“Where did you say you got this car from?”

Some of his tension had eased once they were out of the brownstone and heading into the city.  His smile was a little more easy as he glanced over at her while simultaneously shifting into third gear. “D’you like it?”

Did she like it?

The nicest car she’d ever been in was Calavera’s Maserati, but even that, as beautiful as it was, didn’t hold a candle to … well, whatever kind of car this was.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, her fingers sliding over the leather seat.

“Called in an old favor from Celt.”

Her brows shot up. “What kind of favor involved a hundred-thousand-dollar car?”

“Hey now,” he said, feigning offense. “My skills are coveted, dove. I’m in high demand.”

Of that she had no doubt, but she was still curious what kind of favor resulted in this.

Bright lights lit up the front of the sprawling mansion, the grounds green and glittering in the light. A fountain had frozen over for the winter, but that only made the sight more spectacular.

Attendants stationed at both the foot of the stone stairs that led up to the front doors as well as at the top greeted guests as they handed over their beige-colored invitations.

Iris wasn’t sure how Synek had gotten his hands on one of them, considering these had been given out months prior, but she didn’t ask any questions.

“I’m right here,” Synek said as they drove up to where a valet was standing in a red vest. “We’ll keep the peace.”

Meaning, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking about during the drive over.

Iris had never considered what she would do or how she would even respond if she was in the same room as Spader. For the better part of three years, she had watched and tracked his every move but always from a distance.

There hadn’t been any chance of their paths crossing. But now, she was walking right into the lion’s den with no plans of backing out.

That didn’t make it easy, though.

“I’ll be fine,” Iris said as she turned to him with a smile.

She did have him, after all.

Once he parked the car, he tossed the keys to the attendant who opened his door, and before the valet on Iris’s side could offer his hand, Synek was there, reaching for her while simultaneously glaring at the man.

Sometimes, he made it too easy to like him.

Her coat was no match for the gently falling snow outside, so she was relieved once they stepped inside the rich warmth of the foyer. She found the front room as impressive as she expected it to be.

Everything about it was decadent—from the tiled floors and gold accents to the renowned art hanging on the walls.

She handed her coat to the man on her right, her own smile becoming more relaxed once she felt Synek’s hand resting on the small of her back.

Calm and steady.

Waiters passed with silver trays topped with flutes of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Two dozen round tables were set up in the main dining hall, metallic blue chargers placed in front of each chair with an elaborate assortment of flowers just behind them.

Of all the places she had ever been, this was by far the nicest.

Iris could almost see why some people would kill to be here. The pursuit of greatness was always paved with the blood of others.

Which would explain why the governor coveted his power so much.

It went beyond the seat he had in the government—it was the fame and lifestyle that came along with it.

From what Iris had gathered from her research of him, he hadn’t come from much. His parents were regular blue-collar Americans who had sacrificed to send him to the best university.

There, his biography said, he had met his wife, and unlike him, she did come from money.

And lots of it.

Her lineage consisted of one sitting president, three senators, and at least two governors. Since she was an only child, many had expected her to go into politics as well. Yet a year after attending Georgetown, she was engaged to Spader.

It didn’t make sense to Iris.

But it had taken her a long time to understand just how powerful a man like Spader could be. It went beyond the money he made as a governor—it was the connections.

He brushed arms with some of the most powerful men in the country and worldwide—men like the Kingmaker.

Iris didn’t doubt that had come at a price.

How many deaths had he ordered to ensure nothing jeopardized his new position in life?

How many lives had he ruined?

What, exactly, was that new position in life?

She had so many questions—questions she would soon get an answer to.

As another waiter passed, Synek plucked two glasses from the tray and handed one to her. To calm her nerves, she sipped at the bubbly liquid, trying her damnedest to appear as effortlessly calm as Synek did.

“Is this part of your training?” she asked, twining her fingers through his when he reached for her hand. “They teach you how to be calm in situations like this?”

“I ask myself one question when I come to these things,” he said, his body angled toward her. “Who’s the most powerful person in this room?”

Iris looked around the room, putting a name to faces in the crowd. “Henry Franks,” she said, gesturing to the man with a tilt of her head. “The Wall Street banker.”

Considering he had contracts with more than half the people in this room, he had to be the right answer.

“Wrong,” Synek said, drawing her gaze back to him.

“No? Who then?”

“You.”

“Me?” That didn’t sound right at all. “How could it be me?”

“Because you have me. So imagine what I’d do if someone upset you.”

He made it too easy.

As they drifted through the room, Iris breathed a little easier now as she mentally cataloged everyone she knew and tried to place those she didn’t. The room was abuzz with soft chatter—men discussing business, dates admiring the attire of others.

Iris saw it all.

And there, just across the room, his tux impeccable and his smile a little rueful, was Michael Spader.

His hair was styled in the way all politicians managed, with a part to the right and combed over with pomade that made his hair glisten. At nearly sixty years old, he didn’t look a day over forty-five, and he obviously knew it.

His wife—a woman who seemed proficient in the art of faking a smile, considering how dead her eyes were—stood to his right, playing her role. Every time his gaze flickered over to her, her smile slipped just a little bit more, but the appearance of someone across the room made her smile drop completely.

Iris turned, curious to see what could spark that reaction in a woman who never let her expression slip, and found her answer.

The governor’s mistress.

Canina McDaniel.

Blond and blue-eyed, she walked into the room wearing a figure-hugging blue dress, the color bringing out the brightness of her eyes. With silver strappy heels and a matching clutch, something about her was both elegant and scandalizing.

Maybe it was because Iris knew who the woman was. After all, she had pictures of them together.

But there was a reason no one had blinked at eye at her entry. As the mistress, she was a secret—someone to be coddled and kept, though well away from anyone connected to the governor. It was important to keep his wife happy, in that regard.

Yet there she stood.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” Iris muttered, though she was glad Synek had thought of this.

It made sense.

For a scandal to catch hold, first there had to be whispers of something inappropriate.

And nothing made people talk like a good old-fashioned affair.

Before she’d learned about Canina, she didn’t know what she’d use against the governor. There was always a chance to find information through his office that connected him to the illegal things he did on the side, but that would take time.

She’d been fully prepared to wait it out, however long was needed, but Canina’s appearance made her job a hell of a lot easier.

Though his wife’s cool expression spoke to her displeasure, when Spader realized who his wife was staring at, he didn’t lose his smile at all. Though it was clear with the way he cleared his throat that he was surprised to see her.

Just seeing him this uncomfortable was everything.

“Our seats,” Synek whispered in her ear, and with a firm press of his hand against her back, he led her over to the table that was one table off from the center of the room.

Others followed suit, quickly moving around, some even joining their table as well.

“How did you manage this?” she asked again once she was seated and he was sinking into the one next to her.

“Would you give me a kiss if I told you?”

“Yes,” she answered, earning a smile from him.

“Red’s brother is usually invited to these things. He made a call.”

She was smiling even before he finished. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Make pancakes.”

It was the farthest thing from what she thought he would say, and Iris couldn’t help but laugh.

They hadn’t been sitting for long before manicured fingers pulled out the chair next to Synek.

Canina.

Not only had he managed to find a way to get her here, but she was sitting at their table as well.

She was pouting now—perhaps because the governor had yet to acknowledge her—but a compact appeared in her hand a moment later as she checked her reflection. By the angry way she was patting her bangs into place, Iris wondered how long it would take before she blew.

Only after she’d tucked away her compact did she finally turn toward them. She didn’t care for her much, her gaze passing over Iris quickly, there and gone, but lingering on Synek.

Not that Iris could blame her, even as the blatant way she stared at him annoyed the hell out of her. He was a beautiful man—all that dark hair, charming smile, and pleasant accent. But that didn’t mean she liked that others noticed.

Especially a woman who would willingly sleep with a married man.

Canina flipped her hair over one bare, tan shoulder, making sure Synek’s gaze turned to her.

His gaze traveled over her, head to toe, and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes curled his lips. Iris might have wondered what he was thinking had she felt not his hand curl around her thigh beneath the table.

Appearances, his unspoken message said. This was all a show.

“Care for a drink, luv?” he asked the woman with a tilt of his head in the direction of her glass.

Huh.

The first time Iris had met him, he’d called her luv, too, but it had eventually turned to another pet name that always made her feel particularly warm when he used it.

She was reading way too much into this.

“I’d love one,” Canina said, offering her hand in that dainty way that all women who thought they were superior managed. “Canina McDaniel.”

“Syn,” he offered in return as if he didn’t already know everything there was to know about her.

He accepted her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles, and before Iris could check the impulse, she squeezed the fingers he had on her thigh.

Canina might have thought his smile just then was for her, but Iris knew the truth.

He was entertained, and she was just as bad as he was.

“D’you come alone?” he asked, raising his hand in the air to grab a passing waiter’s attention.

“I did,” Canina answered, briefly turning to look at the governor who was watching them all intently. Satisfied she had his attention, she turned up the flirtation. “But I hope I’m not leaving that way.”

Iris deserved, at the very least, some sort of reward for being able to sit there with a straight face. While the logical side of her knew exactly what Synek was doing—getting close to her to extract information—the other side didn’t care.

She hated the idea of him flirting with someone else right in front of her even if he hadn’t done much of the talking at all.

To get her thoughts off them—and so she wouldn’t react and blow the job before they’d even gotten started—Iris searched the room again for the governor and found him at his table. He was still staring over at them, though the man on his right was trying to engage him in conversation.

His brows were pinched. His mouth set in a mulish line. He looked as if he was seconds away from walking over and dragging Synek out the hard way.

Iris would have paid to see him try.

But while the anger in his eyes amused her, she wasn’t prepared for him to look directly at her. She blinked and fought every urge in her body not to look away.

She didn’t turn and let her hair curtain her face so as not to be seen.

There was no more being invisible.

She wanted him to know who, in the end, was responsible for his downfall.

She wanted him to remember her face.

So when his gaze came to her and lingered, she didn’t blink. She didn’t turn.

Iris smiled.

* * *

Rich people were dull.

If they weren’t discussing how much money they’d made in the previous quarter, they were talking about how much someone else made. Even as boring as she found it all, Iris listened, knowing that anything they might say could prove useful.

Only half-listening to the conversations around her allowed her to watch Spader. He was careful, always the politician, making sure his worsening mood didn’t reflect on his face, but no one seated at his table paid nearly as close attention to him as Iris was.

She saw the imperceptible frowns—the way his fingers would tighten around the stem of his glass whenever Synek made Canina laugh. Not that there was anything to really be jealous of.

Canina was playing her own game. It was obvious because whenever she laughed, she always glanced in his direction to make sure that he had heard her as well.

The problem with having your mistress and your wife in the same room.

But it wasn’t just Iris who had the governor in their sights. His wife, Dorothy, noticed his behavior as well, and though she kept a straight face, there was only so often her glass of champagne could be refilled.

Now on her fifth drink, she glared at the empty glass before excusing herself from the table. The governor didn’t seem to notice.

This was her chance.

Iris readied to do the same, but before she could rise from her seat, Synek caught her wrist, effectively preventing her from leaving. For ten minutes, he had appeared engrossed in his conversation with Canina, yet the second she moved an inch, he noticed.

She would not smile at that.

“Powder room,” she said, though she made sure to add a touch more bitterness to her tone.

They all had their roles to play.

He nodded once and reluctantly let her go.

Iris, trying to not make it appear as if she was in a rush, hurried as quickly as she could behind Dorothy, just spotting the tail of her dress as she slipped into the restroom.

The powder room was as grand as the rest of the mansion with two comfy armchairs sitting in an area off to the right, as well as scented soaps and decadent towels bundled in baskets along the back of the sink counter.

Two of the stall doors were closed and as she paused near the door, Iris heard the almost imperceptible sound of crying coming from one of them right before that person snorted. It was a distinct sort of sound, one she had heard often inside the walls of the Wraiths compound.

She could almost remember the smell of that white powder.

If she was forced to be married to a man like Spader, she might have resorted to cocaine too.

Thankfully, the attendant stood outside the room’s door, making it less awkward for Iris to stand near the sink with the water running to bide her time. Only once the noisy latch of the door came undone did she actually start her own show.

When she was eleven, her mother had taught her how to cry on demand. She never thought she would have a use for that ability—as she had no plans of deceiving anyone to get what she wanted then—but now she was glad for her mother’s unorthodox teachings.

It made what she needed to do that much easier.

She thought of her saddest memory, conjured the image in her head, and waited until the tears had built in her eyes before she put her phone to her ear and pretended to have a conversation. “Mother? You can’t expect me to go through with this. You can’t expect me to marry him!”

Out the corner of her eye, she could see Dorothy pause before exiting the stall and walking over to the sink. But from the way she took her time turning the water on and sticking her hands beneath, she was listening.

“Of course not,” Iris said. Carrying on the fake conversation, she was imagining what Dorothy’s mother must have told her all those years ago. “But he’s flirting with some … some whore right in front of me! You can’t expect me to smile when he blatantly does that, do you?”

Her voice broke a little at the end for effect, but a part of her did feel bad knowing this was a reality for Dorothy. That she had to play a part everyday of her life that she might not have wanted.

“Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow before brunch … yes, okay. I love you. Good night.”

Iris tucked the phone back into her clutch, turning and faking surprise at the sight of Dorothy still standing there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize someone was in here.”

Grabbing a cloth from the display in front of them, Iris dabbed at her eyes, dragging on the moment for as long as she could. Dorothy had to make the first move. If she didn’t, it would be suspicious of her to know about an affair that shouldn’t have been so obvious.

Iris was almost afraid she wouldn’t get anything out of her as she turned for the door until her voice rang out.

“Find something that makes you feel a bit better.”

“Sorry?” Iris asked as she turned, playing up her surprise at being addressed.

“It’ll make it more bearable. Believe me. I was as willful as you are when I first married my husband.” She shook her head as if she regretted that day the most in her life. “I yelled, I threatened, I threw things, but none of that mattered in the end. He’s to be your husband,” she mimicked in a high voice, her words only slurring the slightest bit. “You do what you have to do for this family. My mother told me the benefits would outweigh everything else.”

Money in exchange for her silence.

Jewels for forgiveness.

Cars and houses and a wardrobe for her willful obedience.

Iris couldn’t imagine the toll it must take to accept trinkets and bobbles in place of respect.

“Why did you stay with him?” she asked, both because she wanted answers and because she was genuinely curious.

“Powerful men don’t have to be good people,” she said with a sort of dead expression, as if those words had been repeated to her over and over again. “They just need to be powerful.”

Which could only mean Spader was far more powerful than she thought because while he might have only popped up on her radar years ago after what happened to her father, he and Dorothy had been married for two decades.

How much power could he have possessed back then?

“There’s no chance he’ll stop?” Iris asked, wondering if the woman would actually stick around that long.

But at the question, Dorothy seemed to get some life back into her. Now, she smiled. “He will,” she said. “Soon. In the meantime, I can’t possibly see what he wants in that little tart who’s been flirting with your fiancé all evening. But I guess it isn’t her mind they’re interested in. Remember that. I suspect if my Michael wanted to stop seeing her”—the first time she had ever actually said his name—“then I wouldn’t have needed to destroy his precious Monet painting.”

The sound of a flushing toilet startled them both. Dorothy seemed to realize just how much she’d said during their talk and flushed, clearing her throat as she turned back to the mirror.

The woman who stepped out wasn’t wearing a dress, rather a black pencil skirt and a top that doubled as lingerie beneath a camel-colored blazer. Her blond hair was styled into a pixie cut, and she was as dainty as her heels were tall.

“Oh, Kava, I thought you were someone else,” Dorothy said as the other woman smiled apologetically and came over to the sink to wash her hands.

“Sorry to frighten you,” the other woman said pleasantly while she finished drying her hands. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“I’ve told you you’re not working tonight,” Dorothy admonished. “Eat and drink and be happy. You deserve it after everything you’re doing for me.”

Kava, if Iris had to guess, worked for Dorothy—an assistant of some sort.

Funny that she hadn’t known the woman had an assistant before tonight.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was your name?”

Iris replied as both pair of eyes came back to her. “Iris.”

“Lovely to meet you, Iris. I’m Dorothy, and this is my assistant, Kava. Let us walk you back to your table.”

This was going better than she ever expected.

As they entered the ballroom, Iris immediately searched for Synek in the sea of faces, finding him exactly where she had left him. Though now, it wasn’t just Canina he was speaking to.

The governor was at her table.

Before now, Iris had never thought it was possible for time to slow down, but every step she took seemed to take longer than the last. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Feel the tremor in her fingers.

She was amazed she hadn’t alarmed the women walking to the left of her, considering how tight her body suddenly felt.

They were still talking by the time Iris returned to her seat, though her gaze was firmly trained on the man she hated the most in the world. She couldn’t even hear what they were saying. She only saw the way the governor’s mouth moved as he spoke. The cheer in his face as he briefly rested a hand on Canina’s shoulder, his warning clear.

At least, that was all she saw before Synek was suddenly there, and as he always did when he kissed her, he cupped her face, demanding her attention be solely on him before he kissed her. It was soft, languid.

Comforting.

“Take a breath,” he said as he pulled away, uncaring that all eyes were on them now.

For a moment, all she could see was him—the concern on his face, the unmistakable knowledge that she had nothing to fear with him there.

She was the most powerful person in the room, he’d said. And he made damn sure she knew it.

“Mrs. Spader,” Canina spoke up in a sickly sweet voice as she got to her feet. “What a lovely dress you’re wearing. I think my mother has that exact color.”

Iris smiled at Synek in thanks before swallowing back her anxiety and facing the reason they were there again.

She had been momentarily forgotten as Dorothy hardly acknowledged Canina at all as she slipped a hand around her husband’s arm.

“Dear, I was just telling my friend, Iris, about the brunch I’m hosting this weekend. I’m sure it won’t be a problem if she attends?”

Iris did her best not to react to that news since she didn’t know what the woman was talking about. But judging from the way Canina turned her glare to Iris briefly, there was more here than she knew.

And somehow, the governor was caught right in the middle.

Spader’s attention shifted from Canina as he zeroed in on Iris. His expression was cool when he looked at Synek’s arm around her—it seemed he was no longer worried about Syn encroaching on his territory—but when he faced Iris, interest lit up his face.

It was disgusting how he could stand there, blatantly eyeing another woman as if his wife wasn’t standing right beside him.

“Of course,” he said. “I don’t see why not.”

This was good.

Not because the governor was sketchy and seemed to be far too interested in her, but this meant she would be able to get inside their home without drawing attention to herself.

“I’d be delighted,” Iris said, directing her answer to Dorothy.

“I suppose my invitation was lost in the mail?” Canina asked, making Iris wonder whether they ran in the same circles.

There was no other reason for her to even ask that, considering who she was. Yet she did.

And judging from the challenging expression on her face, Canina actually expected an answer as well.

Dorothy lowered her voice so only they could hear. “It probably wound up in the trash where you belong.”

Iris choked back a laugh, though it sounded more like she was gasping in surprise. Synek managed to keep a straight face.

Furious, Canina turned to the governor. “Are you going to let her talk to me like this?”

Unlike his wife, she wasn’t able to keep her voice as low and controlled.

Now, the governor lost whatever good humor he’d possessed moments prior.

Iris wasn’t sure if he could feel the way people were perking up, their gazes shifting to them, but whatever it was, she finally got a peek at the man beneath the mask.

Before he could utter a response, Canina turned on her heel, grabbing her purse from the table—not caring that she knocked over a glass on the table and brought more attention to them—and left the room without looking back.

Canina’s outburst was loud enough to draw the room’s attention to them.

Dorothy looked smug as she turned and walked away, Kava trailing behind her. The governor’s face mottled with red before he cleared his throat, gave them a nod, and followed her.

Iris was doing everything in her power not to smile.

Too easy.

They were making it too easy.