Chapter Twenty-Five: The Senator

She was the opposite of Elena in almost every way.

Where Elena stood at a composed 5’5”, Vivian Stone towered at nearly 5’11”—a study in contrast from the moment she entered. Elena’s skin was warm caramel; Vivian’s, cool ivory. Elena’s dark hair fell in soft waves, while Vivian wore her silver-blonde bob razor-straight, sleek as a blade.

Statuesque, lean, and deliberate in every movement, Senator Vivian Stone had the posture of a woman who’d never once apologized for taking up space. Her icy blue eyes were fixed on Daniel now, sharp with appraisal.

Elena gave a soft, amused sigh. “Viv, I told you I’d be right back.”

“That was at least an hour ago.”

“It’s been twenty minutes, max.”

“I sent you for a drink,” Vivian said coolly, stepping closer. “And instead I find you here charming a handsome young man.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow at that, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“Careful,” Elena said lightly, “he’s wounded. Probably not in the mood to be flirted with.”

Vivian took the empty stool beside him, her movement fluid, precise. The deep green of her gown shimmered under the chandelier’s light, catching along the folds as she settled in.

It clung in just the right places, accentuating a lean, athletic figure. Her décolletage was on quiet display, and her arms—toned and elegant—suggested she still kept a rigorous routine. For a woman nearing fifty, Vivian Stone was undeniable. Not preserved. Sharpened.

She crossed one long leg over the other, knowing exactly how it looked. “He seems more than capable of fighting his own battles, Elena,” she said to her.

Elena sighed, “Daniel this is-“

“Senator Vivian Stone,” he finished. A smile on his lips. “I’ve seen you on TV. Daniel Reyes,” he said flashing an instinctively flirtatious smile.

“Ah, I’ve heard your name from the senior partners. How do you know Elena?”

“He cut his teeth in my courtroom, he used to be quite the effective lawyer. Used to defend broken women and immigrants.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow, “And now you work in corporate law?”

“He sold out,” Elena said smirking.

The bartender approached them before Daniel could offer any sort of defense.

“Macallan 25,” she said smoothly. Vivian was a woman who knew what she wanted.

“The good stuff,” Daniel said quite impressed.

“I like to drink the good stuff when I’m with handsome company.”

Daniel glanced between them, feeling the heat, and, maybe, a little like prey. He pivoted. “So… I take it Judge Vázquez is here with you tonight, Senator?”

“Oh don’t get her started,” Elena said shaking her head.

“Hush, you,” Vivian said, reaching across to playfully smack Elena’s shoulder—though her breast grazed Daniel’s arm in the process. It did not go unnoticed. “I’m trying to talk this one into running for the open Senate seat.”

Daniel’s brows lifted. “Wait. You’re trying to get her to run for the open seat?”

Daniel blinked. “Wait, seriously? You want her to run?”

Elena glanced at him, “What’s that supposed to mean, Reyes?”

Vivian laughed, “He’s probably surprised you haven’t already.” She turned to him, cool and unreadable. “Would you vote for her?”

Elena scoffed, “A corporate lawyer like Daniel? He’s probably never voted a day in his life.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a proud Democrat. Back at UCLA, I canvassed for Obama and everything,” Daniel said, raising his glass with mock solemnity.

“Well, that’s ancient history,” Elena said cutting through his pride like a knife through cake. “What have you done lately?”

He paused to think. Because honestly nothing came to mind.

Elena turned toward Vivian, ignoring his silence like it answered the question for him. “You know, he used to be a hell of a lawyer. If the cops gave up, if the DA didn’t care, people could still count on him.”

Vivian arched a brow, intrigued. “Really.”

“I remember this one woman,” Elena continued, her tone softening just slightly, though her eyes never left Daniel. “Her ex broke into her apartment, nearly put her in the hospital. The state declined to press charges—too little evidence, they said. Daniel filed an injunction within forty-eight hours, got her a protection order, and found a private investigator to dig up everything the police ignored.”

She let the memory linger for a beat. “That man,” she said, “gave a damn.”

Because she was right. And the worst part?

He missed being that man.

A brief silence settled over the trio—just long enough for something unspoken to pass between Vivian and Elena. A glance, quick and knowing, the kind that spoke volumes without a single word. Daniel clocked it but didn’t dare ask.

Vivian, never one to indulge an awkward pause, was the first to pivot. Her voice was smooth and pointed as a dagger in silk.

“Tell me, Daniel. A man like you, tense jaw, brooding stare, you’re not here alone, are you?”

Elena let out a laugh, rich and amused. “Oh, Viv. That’s a story.”

Daniel groaned softly. “Please don’t.”

Vivian’s eyes sparkled with delight. “I knew I smelled drama. Bartender—” she raised two fingers, not breaking eye contact, “—bring us the bottle.”