Chapter 2

The air inside the vintage fair had thickened, heavy with the scent of roasted chestnuts, stale beer, and the intoxicating humidity of three hundred bodies pressed too close together. Outside, the night market hummed with the chaotic energy of vendors shouting over one another, but inside the converted warehouse’s main hall, the atmosphere was different. It was a curated chaos, a glittering cage of string lights that draped from the high, exposed rafters like golden spiderwebs, casting a warm, amber glow over every brass lamp and velvet armchair. I had spent the last hour in a secluded alcove near the back of the room, a corner designated for the antique clock repairmen, where the music from the live band was a distant, throbbing pulse rather than a direct assault on the ears. I was changing. It was a subtle shift, a deliberate act of preparation that only he would understand. The heavy, structured wool of my daytime coat was draped over a velvet chair. I stood before a full-length mirror framed in tarnished gold, leaning against a stack of old leather-bound encyclopedias. My skirt, a modest knee-length pencil number that had served me well for boardroom meetings and casual lunches,