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Julian Kensington-my b
e cold morning air. She said it lightly, as if asking what dress to wear,but there
nty-two-year-old ghost with eyes that had already seen too much. There
n Kens
Before, whenever he heard this name, Andrew's fis
ld come to stop her without hesitation. He would rush home immediately, the propos
n Times Square to face public m
sure it would work.But it was the only we
back to an
enched in sweat, the silk of her nigh
g up to meet her. And the figure above-Sloane Ashford, standing at t
walked away while
, arms, ribs-all smooth, unbroken. No wound
m the bedside table. H
up. The date on the screen mad
year
r, Andrew, was going to p
dr
ould destroy him-disowned, the company gutted, their father's
he hands shoving her from behind. T
dge, watching her fall, w
using the pain to remind herself she was alive.She had come back to a tim
oor. The gentle, familiar voice of th
you going to pick out a dress for M
t" was a key turnin
man. The company, their father's legacy, collapsing under the weight of
, not responding to the sou
Gable's voice was laced with
Gable," she called out, her voice a
heir depths, something hard and sharp, forged in
othing le
rew would hijack the massive screens in Times Square f
ed her as a "spoiled, vicious sister," his words a slap she remembere
t this
nly push him further toward Sl
ing, hunting for a weapon. She needed to get to
ng over the call button. The memory of his last, d
on the bed. Calling him now to accuse him would
estructive. Something that would rip And
hat did her brother care about most? Beside
. And the Sterl
hat if she created a scandal of her own? A scandal so big, so threatening to
dal than Andrew's business arch-nemesis? The on
Kensi
smile touche
To save you, I'll
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