e was the picture of serenity, a calm island in the e

ed Sloane Ashford's car," she reported in a low voice. "She d

us spot for Hollywood's elite. A cold smil

And video," Chloe ordered. "I want clear

g to relay the message. She w

rang. The screen displa

aker. "Chloe... I know you don't like me, but why would you do

e wrong number. You should be asking my brother what's more im

slipped, her voice turning sharp

d hung up. She wouldn't waste

se slammed open. Andrew storm

ocking. He saw his sister, dressed in a sinful

's blue eyes were burning, scanning

ed innocently. "He left. He got tir

oom apart. He ripped open the closet doors, looked under the bed, an

pity and resolve. This was the same blind rage that

nothing.

at the black velvet box on the coffee

ly toward the wastebasket. "I saw how m

et. It was empty. He was start

ngerously quiet. "You'd better

urt. "An explanation? Brother, is that what you really

u've known for less than six months, did you ever once stop to think about m

d no answer. His obsession with Sloane

, holding the tablet. "Miss, the phot

ut looking at it herself, she held it

the well-known director David Marshall, embracing in the dim light of

e stared at the photos, his mind refusi

ice. "While you were preparing to propose to her,

fate, Andrew's phone began to

r ID read