They were at the counter when Mira's expression shifted.
Cassian was signing the receipt when she lightly patted his arm.
"Babe."
"Hmm?" he said, still focused on the bill.
"Did you… call the reporters too?"
He paused.
Slowly, he followed her gaze toward the glass entrance of the boutique.
Flashes.
Cameras.
At least six reporters clustered outside, trying to peer through the tinted windows.
His jaw tightened slightly. "No," he said calmly. "I didn't."
Mira's brows pulled together. "Then how did they know we're here?"
He studied the scene for a second, calculating. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "But it's definitely something we need to look into."
Her fingers instinctively curled around his sleeve. "This is concerning."
"It is," he agreed. Then his expression shifted — not worried, but composed. "Don't panic. I've got a solution."
She narrowed her eyes. "You already got bodyguards because of them?"
