whine. She peeled the damp trench coat off her shoulders and tossed it onto the frayed arm of t

g, a slice of pepperoni pizza halfway to her mouth. Mel dro

de. "How was the wedding of th

n the kitchen counter. Three text messages b

aking a

r me,

ruin

ed up the phone, tapped the scre

e? He has connections with every casting director

ard, devoid of any warmth. She walked past Mel and pulled open

pulled out a dress. It was a vintage silk slip dress, the color of dark, bruised cherr

re the hell are you going in that?

yeliner pencil and began to draw a sharp, aggressive wing at the co

ving into a cold smile. "I'm going fishing. I ne

nd whipped around her bare legs, but she didn't shiver. She stood tall in her five-inch stilettos, the red silk

man in a black suit. He crossed his arms,

ropped the name of a sleazy producer she had met at a wr

tered something, listened for a second, and then unh

de, pulling a hes

ged whiskey, and money. Low, pulsing jazz played from hidden speakers. The ligh

couldn't afford and turned her back to the bartender. Her e

foun

i-private VIP booth behind a fro

s fingers. Even sitting down, he radiated a suffocating dominance. His jaw was cl

omach tightened. He was exact

d Jace's closest friend-suddenly turned his head. His ga

ips. She let her long, dark hair fall forward, completely shielding her face fro

ning about something and gesturing wildly. Jace didn't eve

e balcony, all the color drained from her face. She

's a monster. He's a machine. Pissing off Axel is one thing, but if yo

es turned white. "I know exactly what he is," she murm

her eye, Cora caugh

the stairs that led to the VIP section. She was carryi

vously. Then, her thumb slipped over the rim of the glass on the right. A tiny,

n caught every detai

esperate trap meant for th

on the bar. The glass hit

e," she o

d through the crowded room like a predator locking onto its prey, her eyes fixe