At the gala

The Westville Policemen’s Charity Gala is already in full swing by the time Velvet Vixen makes her entrance—and when she does, the entire ballroom seems to hold its breath.

Bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers and champagne lights, Kendrick glides into the grand hall, her sheer cape flowing, heels clicking, and her fiery red hair tumbling in glossy waves. The slit of her black satin skirt flashes just enough leg to inspire scandal, while the violet rhinestones along her corset and mask catch the light like tiny stars.

And suddenly?

All eyes are on her.

Every man within sight swivels to watch her glide past, jaws slack, glasses raised mid-sip. Several women follow her path with sharpened eyes—some with envy, some with intrigue, and one or two with open, flushed curiosity.

The press swarms her for pictures. City officials line up for introductions and smiles. Her dance card is already full before the second flute of champagne touches her lips.

“This place is mine,” she whispers to herself with a satisfied smirk.

But one person is still missing.

“Where are you…?”

And then she sees her.

Detective McKenna stands across the room near the back wall, back straight, shoulders tight, speaking to someone with the patience of a woman trapped in a slow-burning building.

And she is stunning.

McKenna wears a midnight-blue gown, sleek and minimal in design, cut just enough to flatter her athletic frame while maintaining the same crisp professionalism she wears on the job. The neckline is a clean square cut, elegant and modest, but Velvet Vixen can’t help but notice the soft slit up the side showing off powerful legs in heeled sandals.

Her dark blonde hair is swept into a low chignon, clean and controlled, with only a single rebellious curl at her temple. Her earrings sparkle just faintly with every shift of her jaw, which is currently clenched.

Because standing far too close is none other than the Westville Police Chief, cigar in hand, brandy in the other, laughing at something he said while McKenna looks like she’s calculating whether “accidentally” elbowing him in the ribs would count as a public relations violation.

“You really should let loose more, Detective,” the chief chuckles, leaning in. “Bet you’ve got a wild side no one’s seen yet.”

McKenna’s smile is so tight it could cut glass.

From across the room, Velvet Vixen raises one brow, then takes another sip of her drink and smiles.

“Time to intervene.”