"Breathe, Ms. Bradley. You look like you're about to conquer the entire ballroom."
Lynn's voice floated softly from behind her as Samantha stood before the floor-length mirror in her penthouse dressing room. The gown she wore shimmered under the lights — black silk that hugged her figure and caught the faintest hint of midnight blue when she moved. A delicate diamond choker gleamed at her neck — understated, but commanding.
"I'm not here to conquer," Samantha said evenly, sliding an earring into place. "I'm here to remind them who they lost."
Jake leaned against the doorway, straightening his tie. "Remind them?" he said with a faint smile. "Sam, you're about to make them kneel."
Samantha met his reflection in the mirror. "Flattery doesn't suit you, Jake."
"Neither does modesty suit you," he countered smoothly. "Come on. Let's go knock them senseless."
