lit private room of a downtown bar. Sloane drained her glass in

olling through her phone, reading out the most vicious social media comments with glee. "Belinda's gone pri

enigmatic curve of her lips.

day, was making her head spin. Her thoughts drift

d imploded (privately, messily, with none of today's fireworks), her family's company had faltered. At a charity gala, desperate a

roposal, but a business transaction. He needed a wife, a placeholder, to satisfy his

She had actually fa

ver truly looked at her. The whispers followed her everywhere-that he was gay, that she was a beard, a decorative object he'd acq

for Braxton and Belinda was a hot, fiery thing. But her hatred for Julian was different. It was a cold, deep, a

e cut through the haze. "You loo

she lied, forcing a casual tone. "Just thinking that I'm tired

the bottle on the table. "This time," she said, more

the final boss, was Julian. She had to understand him. She had to find out who the woman was,

n. But not as a victim. Not as a piece of collat

red over to their table. "Evening, ladies. A beautiful woman like you

him. "Get lost," she said

hot him a glare that could c

uld be checking into his penthouse suite at The Carlyle for the night. He always did when he

eckless. Something the old Sloa

ock to her system. "I have to go," she said, grabbing h

but nodded. "Okay, c

ve her a quick hug. "And Chlo? If anyo

r; it sharpened her resolve. She hailed a cab, the yellow ca

ned around. "W

f the city, a battlefield she was about to s

Car