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She made her choice.

Women like Grace don’t end up with men like me. I knew that from the start. I was just stupid enough to forget it for a while.

Fuck her.

She can have her perfect life.

I pull up at the Westmere in my tux, the fabric stiff and foreign against my skin. I look the part, but the thought of spending the entire night surrounded by these assholes, pretending to be one of them, already has my jaw locked tight.

The valet takes my car. I step out and scan the entrance.

A flash of red uniform catches my eye across the lobby. Jamie. The second he sees me, he freezes like a deer in headlights. To his credit, he doesn’t run.

I walk straight over to him.

“You remember me?” I ask, voice low.

He gives a tiny, jerky nod.

“Good. You remember Grace Whitmore?”

This time he shakes his head fast. “I haven’t even thought about her⁠—”

“She’ll be here tonight,” I cut in. “With some old fuck. I trust I don’t have to worry about you.”

Jamie swallows hard, eyes darting around for an escape route that doesn’t exist. “No, sir. I swear.”

I hold his gaze until he looks like he wants to sink into the floor.

“You’re working the door?”

He nods quickly.

I step closer, voice dropping. “Here’s what you’re going to do…”

As I step into the ballroom, it’s already packed with the city’s elite. Gowns, tuxedos, and the endless drone of self-important chatter. I have no idea what this gala is actually raising money for. In these circles, it never really is about the cause. It’s just an excuse to dress up, drink thousand-dollar champagne, and pretend they give a shit about anything other than themselves.

I check my ticket and find my table. Right next to the restrooms.

Thanks, Maverick. Real subtle.

I shove the ticket in my pocket and scan the room. Five exits. A shit-ton of discreet cameras.

I still don’t fully understand why he wanted me here tonight. Jamie’s been handled. Grace was fine the entire time I was with her. The worst thing she faced were some snooty shop assistants being assholes. But I get it. If someone was threatening my kid and I couldn’t be there myself, I’d want eyes on them too. Probably wouldn’t take chances.

I weave through the crowd, staying on my feet. I’m not sitting down tonight. I’ll move around, keep to the edges, and avoid talking to anyone. Collect my last paycheck, and then I’ll never have to see Grace again.

My jaw tightens at the thought.

I’m moving along the edge of the ballroom when I spot Max Carter at the bar. He’s surrounded by a little crowd of people laughing too hard at everything he says. Pressed against his side is Heidi. The chick he left Grace for.

She’s nothing special. Certainly not compared to Grace.

For a second, I just stare at them.

Then a thought hits me before I can stop it. I wonder if Grace knows they’re here tonight?

Immediately, I picture her spotting them across the room. I can already see the expression she’ll put on. That stiff look she gets when she’s trying to pretend nothing’s bothering her. Like she’s swallowed a steel rod.