I walked into my dad’s hotel gala and heard my stepmother snap, “Security, remove her.” I left without saying a word, then quietly

went pale.

Behind him, the elevator chimed.

Celeste stepped out.

Of course she did.

She wore cream silk, diamonds, and a smile designed for cameras. Preston followed her in a blue suit, tanned, handsome, and empty-eyed. Two men with briefcases came behind them.

“Mara,” Celeste called, sweetly. “There you are.”

Dad turned. “Celeste, not now.”

She ignored him.continue reading …