later, th

ruptly at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. The sea wind howled off the water,

heap, ill-fitting wedding dress that was at least one size too small, th

t the ocean. She was looking at the guests. The women in their haute couture, the men in thei

, checking his watch for the fifth

as nowhere

ank, but even they looked embarrassed. The whispers from the cro

ught she was goin

r is more

ple buying her way

her face perfectly blank, her chin tucked down, playing th

ided onto the red carpet. She wore a stunning crimson gown that probably cost more than

sweetness. "Well, since Clifford is busy closing a multi-billion dollar deal, I think it's

a young Latino man in a janitor's uniform was emptying

sts. It was a power play, a public humiliation d

two security guards grabbed his arms and shoved him toward the re

dress, Eliza's hands curled into fists. Her nai

c, compliant smile. She reached out with her free hand, pretending to grope

sion. "Boring," she muttered, turning on

ly, guided by a man who smelled of bleach and swea

rized the face of every sneering socialite, every condescendi

ered through the vows, his voice tight with

was soft, but it cut through t

ss. Just a lawyer stepping forward, slapping a

d alone at the table. She picked up the

en again, her head forced down onto a desk by Cade Pask, her hand forced to si

r, she didn't feel helpless. She felt th

e came out shaky and crooked, the tail of the 'n' dragging just

his lip curling in distaste. "The

ely turned their backs on her, swarming th

eil whipping around her face. She reached up and pull

ummed, sharpening her focus. She wasn't just looking; she was analyzing, memorizing every guard