ed to a crawl as they approached

he barricades. Dozens of camera lenses flashed aggre

ercom. "Mr. King, there are at least fi

e. He despised this. He hated the cheap, vulgar spect

breath. She smoothed the fabric of her skirt,

tive skin of her inner thigh. She pinched hard, twisting the fl

in her eyes, pooling perfe

sive frames to physically shove a narrow path thr

or opened. Kar

shes erupted like a strobe l

the bodyguards' shoulders. "Mr. King! Is it true she tr

roar of the crowd hit Hazel like a physical wave.

Serena, completely covering the child's head and face. She hunched over, wra

e line. He shoved a camera inches from Hazel's face.

ned. He raised a hand, ready to signal his

el move

raised her head. A single, perfect tear slipped d

bled, thick with raw emotion. "I don't want his money. I don't want

t for a fraction of a second. The c

t away. "Falling in love with someone you can't have is a punishment," she ch

e had rewritten the narrative from a sleazy corporate sc

ow lowered her microphone, her e

ark eyes locked onto Hazel. He saw the

entirely, one hun

look in her eyes back at the es

ed the genius of the move. She was handing hi

. He walked back down the steps, moving against the

ing as the icy Wall Street tit

road chest blocked the worst of the blindin

ear her ear. "Good acting," he whispere

ned forward, pressing her body against his chest,

at the contact, but with fifty cameras firing, he forced his

ng his fragile, crying fiancé was im

rward, rushing the coupl

e heavy brass doors slammed shut behind them, c