Sovereign were plastered across every gossip blog in Port Sterling. The headline

e narrative had been expertly twisted. The story was no longer about

GenevaGrahamGoldDigger. #Ung

accounts. The messages were vile. "She probably practices her makeup on the dead." "Who would want to marry som

hologist examining a diseased tissue sample. Her expression was placid. But her jaw tightened almost im

e practically screaming. "Those bastards! Geneva, I'm making calls ri

ice calm. "Let them. Let them m

They're cruc

it will be when the truth comes out." Her hand rested on her phone

trusted her judgment even if h

iscussed in a far more exclusive venue: "The Sterling Circle," a private, e

a link to the l

o climb too high, too fast. The Hayes family should

message. "@Caden, didn't you teach a guest seminar she was

s name had a sobering effect. He was a member of the group, but hi

about to move on, Caden's icon lit up. A ne

nown. Comment

oming from him, they carried

pedaled. Caden's right. We s

ted instantly. The gossip

ok a screenshot of Caden's comment and discreetly s

st mythical heir to the Blankenship fortune, had just public

e screenshot to her. HOLY S

the message and the unfamiliar na

He had been brilliant, but intensely private, almost a ghost. She couldn't even clearly recall his face

hat, a man she had absolutely no

warm drop of rain on a frozen lake. It did

. I don't know him.

! G, THAT'S CADEN BLANKENSHIP! He's the real king of this city. Th

nd. Evan began sending her links-business articles, profiles, lists of assets. Blankenshi

who, for some unknown reason, seemed t

mind. What if... No. That was insane. Even for her. Sh

ressing matter