tan Museum of Art was glowing
hat left her shoulders bare. The dress was armor. In her hand, she held a heavy platinum invi
amera flashes exploded in her face like lightning. Reporters shoute
id not look at the cameras. She walked up the ma
d money families turned their heads. Their eyes dragged up and down Bridget
ne from a passing tray and walked directly toward a group of men near t
as she began to discuss the quarterly project
was flowing, a voice drip
addy to fund your mother's
d there, holding a drink,
They quickly made excuses and scatte
er voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "
ve the guts,"
. She was holding the arm of a powerful state
neak past security? Thi
ion. "I walked through the front doo
rritating sound. She leaned
s be a bastard. You b
"At least I don't have to pour wine for men
et was talking about. Pure hatred flashed in her eyes. She turn
od. He raised his glass. "
ound and walked toward the open balcony doors at
r tray walked directly across her path. The tr
ver the rim of Bridget's champagne flute. A tiny amount of wh
her bare shoulders. She raised the glass to her lips an
ding in the shadows of a private viewin
t. His jaw was clenched so tig
him. "Sir, the waiter just confirmed.
he crystal shattered with a loud crack. Blood drip
ing," Damond ordered. His voice was the
en glass and walked
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