A month later...

It’s been a month since the night of fire and flowers, since Kendrick Jane—a.k.a. the Velvet Vixen—barely escaped a predatory plant with her life (and, just barely, her modesty). Since then, the days have been a bit more glamorous.

She’s a media darling now.

Her daring forest escape made national headlines. She’s been invited to talk shows, posed for magazine covers, and even filmed a commercial for a local sparkling water brand (“Stay cool, even under pressure…”). A fashion blog declared her costume “the hottest thing in crime-fighting couture.”

But while the camera loves her, Kendrick has been quietly craving something else.

“It’s just not the same,” she murmurs, kicking her feet up on her desk, absently scrolling through old footage of her escape from Venus Flytrap’s lair.

The last month’s superhero work has mostly been tame: phone consults with McKenna, visiting crime scenes after the action’s over, offering just enough insight to help the stunning super-cop close case after case. She likes helping, sure—but she misses the danger. The thrill. The ropes. The drama. The peril.

And, of course… she misses McKenna.

“That woman’s a brick wall,” she sighs, thinking of how hard it’s been to get a rise out of the detective. Still, Kendrick’s sure she’s wearing her down. Slowly. Deliciously.

When the invitation arrived—delivered in a crisp black envelope with the city seal—Kendrick practically squealed.

“The Mayor requests the presence of The Velvet Vixen at this year’s Westville Policemen’s Charity Gala.”

A night of mingling, fashion, fund-raising, and possibly scandal? And McKenna would definitely be there? Kendrick accepted immediately.

Now, with just two days to go, there’s only one thing left to do.

“I need a formal version of my costume.”

Something unmistakably Velvet Vixen, but dripping with class. Classy enough for a gala. Bold enough to command attention. Tight enough to make McKenna look twice.

She throws open the doors to her closet, dozens of old costumes, dresses, and half-finished ideas fluttering on hangers. Her full-length mirror waits patiently across the room.

“Let’s get to work.”