bs and screaming fans. The red carpet was a river of silk, satin, an

of silver mesh that caught the light with every movement, making her look like she was wrapped in liquid mercury. She wore

t the photographers were still looking

She started up the ste

voice, sharp and grating,

ook what the c

ithful shadows, Veronica Belize and Prescott Hale-Davenport. Gisela was wearing a volu

ng into a sneer. "I'm surprised they let you in. Di

ed, braying laughs. A few nearby reporte

el angry. She didn't feel humiliated. Sh

she asked, her voice

y grin on his face. "Don't be like that, Clementine. Without Donovan's money, y

n was clear, a

la. "You know," she said, her voice quiet but clear, "it takes a

Veronica's mouth thin

distinctive earpiece of event security, strode up the ste

inally, someone was her

ast Clementine and sto

me," he said, his

smile faltering. "

. That grants access to the cocktail hour via the media entrance on the

ed. Gisela's face went from flushed to purple. Tie

ntire demeanor changed. He bowed his hea

or, Aurelian, our host is waiting for you at

he name hitting her like a physical blow. The mos

tared at Clementine, th

m. She looked at the security

d back to Gisela, who was standing there, froze

She didn't sneer. She s

gown shimmering, the Phoenix necklace blazing against her skin. She walked

ps, standing in the shad

. He had seen Gisela's attack. He had seen the sec

eli

w the way she moved, not with the hesitant, apologetic steps of

as brilliant. It was breathtaking. It was unmistakably the work of the desig

e steps, a genuine smile on her famously stoic face, extending a han

Woodard, the woman he had dismissed as a nobody, had

irected toward the side entrance,

shing over him. The world he had built, the game he had be

strings. And the ghost