t's box, the orange of her jumpsuit a jarr

gunshots. They had already convicted her in the head

rocodile tears. "Kristy was always... intense," she sobbed, her voice

ent the Hill Corporation's stock into a freefall. The com

er father, Victor Hill, had suffered a massive hear

feet. A wave of darkness washed over her, and she swayed,

of light, drift

d radiant. She saw Kristy's devastation and a small, cruel

op

was completely absorbed in Felice, as

ter in the first degree...sentenced to a minimum of

r father was dead. Her family

d had co

lls clanged shut behind her, the

prison life. The softness faded from her face, replaced by a sharp, watchful stillness.

e walked out of the gates in a set of worn, faded clothes

s there t

, barbed-wire fences. Her hands clenched into tight fists.

z. Caden Sharpe

ueensboro Bridge, the familiar Manhattan skyline rose before her. The

st few dollars on a newspaper. Her eyes

g. The headline read: "Sharpe-Velazquez Engagement Unites Commerce and Couture." F

t the dress in the photo, a signatur

is sketchbook, a design she

ice hadn't just stolen her fiancé and her free

e. The true head of the Sharpe family, the enigmatic Fount S

pe. He was the apex of the family, the one even Caden feared. If s

ict in worn-out clothes, with less than ten dollars

fingers, she unclasped the thin platinum chain from around h

thrift store. She carefully selected a simple, elegan

ed her hair back, and changed. The woman in the mirror was a

th and walked out onto Fifth Avenue, t

dress, lifted her chin, and walke