Black Widow

Prologue

***

"Maybe you weren't the only one who changed."

Jade felt something beat in her chest just as the plane lifted off the ground and soared into the clouds.

***

Jade's POV

I took another deep breath and waited for the sharp ache beneath my ribs to burn itself out. After a while, it did—or maybe I just stopped feeling it. Either way, I lowered my hand from my chest and let an arrogant smirk curl across my lips.

"But make no mistake, Leon," I murmured, as though he could somehow hear me from wherever the hell he was. "It's going to take a lot more than a pretty face and a charming smile to tame the Black Widow."

He had played a good game. Or at least he'd tried.

For a second there, he had even managed to convince me I had a heart, which was almost impressive in itself. A humorless laugh escaped me as I turned toward the window.

Guess I thought wrong.

Life isn't some cheesy rom-com where the right person comes along, cracks open your tragic little shell and suddenly everything means something. Sometimes you have to step back and look at the bigger picture, and the cold truth was simple enough: I needed the money, Leon Stone needed to be taught a lesson, and I had managed to accomplish both.

If anything, I'd exceeded expectations.

Still, that wasn't even the best part.

What really made the whole thing worthwhile was his reaction. Poor thing looked shattered, and that had always been my favorite part—the exact moment someone realized the game had ended and they'd lost.

I was slightly disappointed, though. A little pathetic sobbing would've really completed the experience. I'd practically told him I'd been playing him from the beginning, so you'd think I would've earned at least one tear.

Apparently I was getting rusty.

Couldn't have that.

Outside the window, the city beneath me gradually shrank into neat little blocks as the plane climbed higher, until everything down there looked small enough to stop mattering.

Funny how distance could do that.

I plugged in my headphones and rested my head against the seat. My eyes felt heavy; I'd barely slept the night before thanks to an unpleasant, twisting sensation in my stomach that I hadn't quite been able to identify.

Not that I'd tried very hard.

Eventually, I let my eyes close.

Nobody needed to know.

⸻

I stayed in my seat after we landed.

People had an irritating habit of launching themselves into the aisle the second the seatbelt sign went off, as though standing first somehow meant escaping the plane first. I preferred waiting until the chaos died down.

I switched off airplane mode and checked my messages.

There were a few notifications, including one from my mother practically begging me to let her know I'd landed.

Then another message caught my attention.

Aria: I hope you're happy.

Very.

A second one sat beneath it.

Aria: Leon's shattered. Not that you care anyway...

That had been the point.

And she was right. I didn't care.

At least, that was the version I was sticking with.

If some inconvenient part of me felt differently, anyone was welcome to decide for themselves whether it meant anything.

I typed back:

You asked. I delivered. You're welcome.

By the time I looked up, the aisle had mostly cleared.

I stood, straightened my leather jacket and reached toward the overhead compartment, but before I could grab my suitcase, the flight attendant stepped forward and pulled it down for me.

How thoughtful.

I looked up at him through my lashes and made absolutely no effort to hide the fact that I was checking him out.

His eyes met mine.

Blue.

Not bad.

A coy smile slipped onto my lips as I tucked a strand of straight black hair behind my ear.

"Thank you."

His attention shifted fully onto me the second I spoke.

There it was—that subtle change people got when they realized I wasn't simply looking in their direction.

I was looking at them.

"Of course," he said.

He tried to be discreet about the way his gaze moved over me.

He wasn't particularly good at it.

People had described my voice as siren-like before—low, melodic, dark around the edges. I supposed it suited me.

I reached for the suitcase and let my fingers brush against his deliberately.

His expression changed again, barely enough for anyone else to notice.

Almost imperceptibly.

Almost.

I held his gaze for another second, gave him a small wink and started toward the exit.

I could feel him watching me as I walked away.

They usually did.

When I glanced back, he had finally recovered enough to flash me a charming smile.

I answered with one of my own before turning away again.

"Home, sweet home," I murmured.

The second I stepped outside, I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with fresh air.

For the first time since I'd boarded the plane, the knot in my stomach loosened slightly.

Feels good to be back.

***