Chapter 3 - THE LION'S DEN.
The Grand Heritage Hotel was a monument to excessive wealth and hidden sins.
Valets rushed to open the doors of luxury vehicles while heavily armed private security watched from the shadows.
I stepped out of my sedan, the crisp white fabric of my suit catching the flashing lights of paparazzi cameras.
I moved with absolute purpose, bypassing the red carpet and heading straight for the security checkpoint.
A hulking guard in a tailored tuxedo stepped into my path, his hand resting casually on his earpiece.
"Invitation only, ma'am," he grunted, trying to intimidate me with his size.
I didn't slow down, meeting his gaze with dead, unblinking eyes.
"Evelyn Thorne," I said, offering a fake name that my contact had embedded into their encrypted system.
He checked his tablet, frowned, and looked back up at me with lingering suspicion.
"I need to search you before you enter the ballroom," he demanded, reaching out to grab my shoulder.
My reaction was pure, trained instinct.
I sidestepped his clumsy grab, seized his wrist, and twisted it sharply toward his body.
He gasped in pain as I applied agonizing pressure to his joint, keeping the movement entirely hidden beneath the folds of my jacket.
"Do not touch me," I whispered softly into his ear.
He yanked his arm back, his face flushing red with embarrassment and fury.
As he pulled away, the sharp edge of his lapel pin grazed my left cheek.
I felt a thin line of heat tear across my skin, followed by the immediate swelling of a fresh scratch.
I ignored the sting, stepping past him and entering the opulent ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting a brilliant glow over hundreds of the city's worst elites.
Waiters circulated with trays of champagne while string quartets played classical music to mask the sound of corrupt negotiations.
I grabbed a glass of champagne, holding it loosely in my black-gloved hand as I scanned the room.
It didn't take long to find her.
Cassandra Sterling was holding court near the grand staircase, wearing a stunning, obnoxious yellow gown.
Her bright red hair was swept up into an elaborate updo, and she was laughing loudly at a joke made by an elderly politician.
She looked entirely unbothered by the fact that she had helped kidnap a four-year-old child this morning.
Rage flared in my chest, a hot and violent contrast to the cold room in the police station.
I placed my untouched champagne glass on a passing tray and began to weave through the crowd.
May you like
People instinctively stepped out of my path, sensing the lethal gravity pulling me across the room.
Cassandra was about to learn that my mother wasn't the most dangerous woman in our family.
