With my fingertips resting against the icy floor-to-ceiling glass of my sixty-fifth-floor penthouse office, I watched violet twilight engulf the streets below. The Opeline rose beneath my handcrafted Italian loafers, its dark tower descending toward the harbor waters. The immense black tower was an architectural landmark. Every inch of its imported limestone exterior, every hand-cut crystal suspended in the atrium, and every thread of eight-hundred-count Egyptian cotton in its four hundred luxury suites was indisputably mine. StudyChemistry Yet a sleek smartphone vibrated on the broad surface of my black marble desk. The glowing message reminded me that, to my own relatives, I remained the unwanted stray they had thrown into the winter cold ten years earlier.

dossier.

For six difficult months, Preston Weller—a slick, high-society grifter whose pedigree was borrowed wealth and rented Mediterranean yachts—courted Harper. But romance was merely the cover for a desperate, chaotic financial maneuver.

Harper’s high-end lifestyle PR firm was bankrupt in practice, drowning in luxury commercial lease defaults and a mountain of unpaid vendor lawsuits. Connor Vance’s global logistics firm was about three weeks from a criminal receivership application over missing freight records. Together with Eleanor, the four of them had cooked up a suicidal scheme. They planned to pose to

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