The elevator was an old, cage-style relic. He pressed the c

e with no number. Wyatt placed his thumb on a scanner bes

ry-grade security, not something you found in a

-walled penthouse that seemed to float above the Manhattan skyline. A lush indoor gar

heepish. "Okay, so... the whole 'down-to-ear

, the panoramic views, the sheer, unapologetic wealth.

e you just left," Wyatt explained, his voice earnest. "

ck?" Kelsey asked, her voice flat. "Wo

he Montgomerys were just as ruthless

and eyes the same gray as Kelsey's stood there, her hands twisting the fabric of her expensive dress.

d Reginald

scene from a movie. There was no swell of emotion,

er hands outstretched as if to embrace h

formal nod. "Mrs. Mont

blow. Tears welled in her eyes and began to stream down her

sure unwavering. "We will spend the re

gies," Kelsey said, her voice coo

melody. In a corner of the living room, a young woman with a ge

nd stood up gracefully. "Welcome home, Kels

unadulterated jealousy in the girl's

a and linked her arm through he

rial claim, a subtle reminde

ormal. "This is Clare Burton. We ado

dress to her own worn jeans and faded swe

Clare suggested, her tone dripping with false swee

onora cut her off, her voice sha

ch was trembling, but firm. She led Kelsey down a long hallway to

fantasy, filled with brand new designer clothes, je

y felt the cold metal of the ba