ng the marble steps of the Moreau estate
ike a funeral procession, each one mor
tering gowns flowed into the mansion, s
was a ce
cially announcing their heir to the
ck silk shawl tighter around her shoulders
fear, but from the pure forc
wasn't a
t reclaiming wha
hear as she strode toward the entrance,
the scent of rain, gaso
ce, her new identity fitti
Varela
- a ghost reborn, a weapon cr
swung open, revealing
across walls lined with priceless art, portraits of
gne, gunmetal, and ambition
just inside, abs
at precise intervals, eyes
shadows, trays bala
and brittle, bouncing of
careful to keep her face co
easured, each g
e far end of the grand ha
ad been taugh
composed in a black suit, Dominic look
ld Moreau family ring gleamed on his right hand - the hand that
omach
posed to b
venteen and bleeding out in the dirt, betr
rse in her hospital bed, alongside all the
ye
now, Catalina did
ho wore his cro
tice - the rigid set of his shoulders, the fleeting tight
even know
reminde
o
e it e
er elbow, offering a t
e, her fingers brush
, using the moment t
oated throu
over ever
ung to be
his father, you'd think t
ling them in the quiet, ruthless par
t-stopping second, his eyes widened, a flicker o
body away, pretending to admire a m
ammered at
recogni
o
dn't
ad once danced at Moreau galas, the gi
hree long breaths b
ady gone, swallo
Silence.
by since clawing her way out
ward the dais, Dominic Morea
s the room - a brief
, glass halfwa
, just slightly, like he
ures - confusion, curiosity - but the
ses a flicker of movement
first, heart slammi
g to slow, her expressi
nt
le
ien
s only the
anted the first
t the right enemies, and moved across the Moreau e
uring polite greetings, letting
when a drunken councilman tried to imp
atched Dominic from
n't sm
he adoration of the cr
ed... t
d on his head tonight was n
g, Catalin
inter
dang
alina moved with it, weavi
he was
Moreau truste
ingdom to the ground
she melted into the crowd, her black dr
were worn
rela had come t