Then a high-pitched, ugly shriek tore from Emilie's throat. The mask of the

utters became a hailstorm-a frantic, deafenin

inting a trembling, champagne-soaked finger at Stella. "You psycho bitch!" she

ed carpet, rolling silently away. She turned to a nearby reporter from Variety,

lips a slash of color against her pale skin. Her voice, amplified

began, "to the Emilie Thorne Founda

ur went through

) under that name. Or any record of the five million dollars in corporate donations she claim

en flipped, they turned as one-a pack of sharks that had scented blood. They swarmed Emil

stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence, u

as done. She turned-a queen dismissing a court jester-

ful rumble that cut through the noise.

Cadillac Escalades had pulled up, forming a protective barrier ar

eart seized in her chest-a painful,

h. A long leg in perfectly tailored black trousers emerged, f

Ste

as a winter night. The infamous heir to the Sterling fortune, the pr

t covered in blood. The sight of him, alive and breathing, broke through her

think. She

n, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. She shoved past a security guard who

the woman who despised him, the woman who was the source of his de

n. His body tensed, a reflexi

sending him staggering back half a step. He was solid, real. He smelled of ceda

with shock. His mind, which could process a billion-d

he lapels of his suit jacket. She yanked

glare of a thousand flashing lights, she p

b escaped her as she kissed him, pouring a lifetime of regret, lo

ernova, freezing the im