Lana decided that if Martin insisted on pretending she didn’t exist, then she would simply make existing impossible to ignore.
It started subtle.
Very subtle.
Too subtle, apparently.
The next morning, she made sure to wander into the common area just as he was finishing his security sweep. She wore soft lounge clothes—nothing scandalous, just fitted enough to remind the world she still had a body beneath the bruises. Her hair was loose, freshly washed, falling down her shoulders in a way she knew had stopped traffic before.
She leaned casually against the counter, coffee mug in hand.
“Good morning,” she said lightly, eyes flicking to him. “You always wake up this early, or am I just lucky today?”
Martin didn’t even slow his stride.
“Morning, miss Lana,” he replied, voice neutral, p
