tan Museum of Art was glowing

hat left her shoulders bare. The dress was armor. In her hand, she held a heavy platinum invi

amera flashes exploded in her face like lightning. Reporters shoute

id not look at the cameras. She walked up the ma

d money families turned their heads. Their eyes dragged up and down Bridget

ne from a passing tray and walked directly toward a group of men near t

as she began to discuss the quarterly project

was flowing, a voice drip

addy to fund your mother's

d there, holding a drink,

They quickly made excuses and scatte

er voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "

ve the guts,"

. She was holding the arm of a powerful state

neak past security? Thi

ion. "I walked through the front doo

rritating sound. She leaned

s be a bastard. You b

"At least I don't have to pour wine for men

et was talking about. Pure hatred flashed in her eyes. She turn

od. He raised his glass. "

ound and walked toward the open balcony doors at

r tray walked directly across her path. The tr

ver the rim of Bridget's champagne flute. A tiny amount of wh

her bare shoulders. She raised the glass to her lips an

ding in the shadows of a private viewin

t. His jaw was clenched so tig

him. "Sir, the waiter just confirmed.

he crystal shattered with a loud crack. Blood drip

ing," Damond ordered. His voice was the

en glass and walked