I asked myself this a lot, lately.
There were too many levels to this craziness. In my purse, I kept the photo of a man I wanted dead. Just a few feet away was from me was one of the men I'd hired to help me achieve this.
And, tonight, those same two people were taking me out to a fancy party.
A party where I was going to try and spot the murdered who'd chopped my family to bits.
In my fingers, the dress material felt sickeningly slippery. Playing dress up was... it just wasn't me. Blinking, I looked down at my hands, closing my fingers and flexing them so hard they cramped.
Get it together. Think of this as going undercover. You're not doing this for the luxury and fun.
And then I understood why I was so uneasy.
I was freaking out because doing this felt like a betrayal. In my head, I saw Cece's accusing eyes and flinched. She'd been the one who liked to play dress up.
Not me.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stand. I was too wrapped up in my guilt. I had to take control of my emotions, make myself see that what I was doing wasn't frivolous. If Jacob said this event was important, and that wearing these piles of money would get me inside, then I had to bite down my bile and do it.
This was all part of my purpose.
Steeling myself, I stripped down in the stall. In the mirror across from me, I caught sight of myself. There was a tiny mark on my shoulder, almost gone now, from Kite's teeth. My blush was furious.
Sliding the green dress over my head, I pushed all the pieces into place. Turning, I scowled. Wow, this is hideous. Jacob had been right to hand me more options.
My hair fluffed when I removed the outfit, eyes grazing over the other dresses. Gingerly, I rubbed the hem of a gorgeous looking crimson gown.
I squeezed into the tight little number. It clung to my curves, hugged the swell of my ass and dipped in around my waist. I had to give Jacob credit; even I thought I looked good.
Running fingers down my stomach, I noticed how second-skin the dress was. It was as if I had nothing on, nothing to save me from insistent touches and intentional legs that wanted to press against my own.
My shiver went from scalp to knees.
“Marina?”
His voice echoed, rocketing in my skull. “Uh, hang on,” I coughed. My blood had gone hot, sweat dancing down my back. I worked to get out of the dress, making sure my stall was locked. I doubted he'd randomly open my door, but... I still hurried.
With burning cheeks, I redressed and grabbed the outfits. Pushing the door open revealed the hitman standing just a foot away. If he'd crouched, he could have seen my feet in the stall.
His eyebrows went up, his mouth following. “You were taking awhile, did everything fit?”
Looking down at the dresses—of which I'd only tried on two—I nodded. “Yeah. Everything was fine.”
“Which of them do you want?” Tilting his chin, he let his powder-blue eyes roll over me. Was he imagining me in the clothes? “You can have all of them, if you wish.”
I coughed roughly. “No! Uh, no. I'll just take this red one.”
Smoke whirled in his stare. It suffocated me. “I'm glad. That one was my favorite.”
I needed to get out of here. Everything about this place—this event—had my brain convulsing. Jacob's wide smirks and hungry gaze had made me a pile of mush.
“Let's buy this and find Kite,” I said, shoving past him.
He followed me, tall enough that he could remain close and still bend in to talk. “Kite will be meeting us at his place. He finished shopping and left.”
Blinking, I hoisted the dress. “But I thought we were all going to meet up.”
“We will. It won't be long.”
Shooting him another eyeful of suspicion, I set the dress next to the register. The woman who rang me up did it with speed and efficiency. I almost didn't see the price blinking.
Eight hundred dollars.
My dress had cost eight hundred fucking dollars.
“Where would we go for jewelry?” Jacob asked, knocking me out of my daze.
“Oh, just across the way,” the clerk said, pointing. “Hidden Stones, they're a wonderful shop. I'm sure they'd have something to go with this dress.”
Jewelry? I had the sudden paranoia that Jacob was trying to buy me. A dress for tonight made sense, but anything beyond that was... what? Him showing off?
I wanted fresh air, but instead I found myself tailing after Jacob.
He was a gentleman, carrying the shopping bag for me. That was good, because I might have thrown it over the third floor banister. This didn't feel like a mission, or part of the plan.
This felt like a date.
The threads holding my heart together began to fray. If Jacob was trying to woo me, I didn't know how to fight back.
A cheerful, older woman faced us as we entered the store. She swayed our way, instantly looking at the logo on the shopping bag. She could smell money. “How can I help you two today?”