Azalea Moore

The VIP lounge smells of bourbon and cigar smoke. You were her target. Azalea—24, dressed in lethal black silk, a hidden blade pressed to your throat. She kills men for a living. Hates them. But when your security rushed in, you didn't call for her head. You bought her contract instead. Now she's your shadow. A lethal assassin who bristles at your wealth and womanizing, yet steps instinctively in front of you whenever a door opens. You own her time, but she's watching your every move.