Chapter 4

The air in the Grand Ballroom of the Sterling Tower had finally thinned, the heavy scent of expensive perfume, roasted duck, and suppressed tension slowly dissipating with the departing crowd. The gala was over. The last of the donors had signed their checks, the last of the politicians had shaken hands until their jaws ached, and the last of the waiters had cleared the silver platters. Now, it was just the echo of our footsteps against the polished marble and the low, thrumming hum of the climate control system that kept the massive space at a precise, sterile sixty-eight degrees. I stood near the far corner of the ballroom, away from the lingering clusters of socialites who were still holding court near the bar, but close enough to the shadows of a towering, velvet-draped archway that led to the private vestibule. The venue was a cathedral of wealth, all gold leaf and crystal chandeliers that cast a warm, amber glow over the scene, but tonight, the light felt distant, muffled by the fatigue in my legs and the electric charge buzzing under my skin. I was wearing a slip of a dress, emerald silk that clung to every curve like