t pierced through the grimy attic skylight
stantly. Her mind
nds of the house below. The floorboards just outside her door cre
n the cold wooden floor without a sound, crossed the small roo
whispering on
voice high and reedy. "Why did the Master bring that
. "It's because of Miss Coretta. Sh
? Abou
room and screamed that she would rather die than marry Bedford Parks. Everyone in Silicon Valley knows what he i
ught the new girl bac
She'll marry the maniac, and Miss Coretta keeps her perfect
t, iron-clad business pact between the Steele and Parks families demanded that a Steele daughter marry the Parks heir. Coretta h
df
vision-the phantom heat of the flames, Bedford's blood-streaked face pressing against her charr
ove
was beating so fast it ached. The maids were calling hi
idea. No i
nited with a dark, manic intensity. He wasn't a monster.
e door, grabbed the brass
jumped back with sharp,
way, her eyes blazing w
anded, her voice a
actically threw themselves down the narrow stairs
e door shut. The
y brass zipper open and dug past cheap t-shirts and worn jeans until her fingertips found the thick seam at t
wrapped tightly in a black opaque garment bag. She stood and laid it o
thrift bin near the trailer park. Using the master-level tailoring skills she had honed as the ghost designer for Paris's top luxury houses in her past life, Ginny had worked thro
black. It felt like liquid obsidian under her skin-a testament to her meticulous
ress on the handle of the rickety wardrobe. She
isted into the branches of ancient oak trees. Caterers were assembling a ten-tier champagne tower. Florists wove cascades of whit
e country rat to stumble down those marble stairs in some cheap, humilia
led into a sharp
wasn't going to survive the banquet. She was going to conquer it. And sh
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