because of the wine but because every sinner with a crown wa

. Inside, the ballroom thrummed with murmurs and money. Men who murdered with handshakes and women

0 PM, a woman i

arrive in a

o bodyguards, just silence an

sic. She walked, heads turned not out of admiration, but confusion. The guests here knew

te La

on her invitation b

oodied body now stood beneath the very chandelier that had once belonged to her family stolen piece by pie

admired, she was her

de of him was Damien Voss. He was the crown prince of the Voss Syndicate,

et watch chain glinting against his vest. He had Cold eyes

vial of 19th-century poison rumored to have killed a queen. Biddin

move until the

masterpiece late 1800s. Titled 'The Black Orchid' One

bid: '€1

s breat

the brushstroke, the deep violet bl

t a painting,

father's favorite. He used to say, "Some flowers bloo

sed her

on," she s

the room shifted

smirked and lifte

't look at

gain and one moved,

oice wavered. "Goi

Miss Celes

lite applause

She approached the stage, took the certificate, and laid a g

that frame co

ce," a voice s

smooth and

d and met

eyes locked. His gaze was unreadable except for the tension

cool. "But that painting d

er head just slightly. "

rs. You're not o

, "And you're not an arti

e couldn't tell whether

scent," he s

tilled.

he memory was on the edge of his tongue, 'the s

make his breath hitch, "Some

hat she wa

ver, Luca, waited with the car door open. She stepped

she mu

e allowed herself for on

er father, Looked into his eyes and spoke to h

oss watched the doors

sor. "Celeste Laurent

an no

dded. "No one else need

ty space on the wall where

words... it gnawed at the edge of

didn't belie

so sure, even still he

n uncorked a bottle of Barolo and stared at

SB flash drive from her purse. Plugged it in

's birth

. Another man stood beside him and that was Damien's

d the boy blo

Damien's assi

a Celeste Laurent in M

just stared at the empty w

t up and In

ething about

long to Cele

someone he th