~Selena's POV~
By the time I entered the Black Marble Hotel, the entire staff had already been cleared out. No civilians. No witnesses. Just the echo of polished heels against marble and the cold weight of control wrapped around my shoulders like a fur coat.
I never met enemies on neutral ground. That was a fairy tale. Every space I walked into was mine—even if they thought it wasn't.
Jennifer flanked me, silent but sharp-eyed. Two of our best snipers were positioned on the rooftops nearby. Just in case.
The penthouse elevator dinged. We stepped out.
She was already waiting.
The Viper.
Dressed in obsidian leather, legs crossed over the edge of a black velvet chair like she owned the place. Her dark hair was pulled into a slick braid, and a scar ran down the edge of her jaw like a signature she wore proudly. She didn't stand. She didn't flinch.
She smiled. "Selena." Her French accent was like silk dipped in poison. "Or should I say... Queen Bee?"
