He told me if I didn’t meet him at the art auction tonight, he would send her fingers next.

I couldn’t let Vincent handle this.

Vincent would use my aunt as bait to trap Derek, and she would end up dead in the crossfire.

The Grand Atrium came into view, its glass dome glowing against the dark city sky.

Valet parkers in black umbrellas were opening doors for luxury sedans.

I paid the driver and stepped out into the rain.

I walked up the granite steps, smoothing down my damp dress.

The doorman opened the glass doors, and a wave of warmth and classical music hit me.

The lobby was filled with women in sparkling gowns and men in tailored tuxedos.

Champagne glasses clinked under the massive crystal chandeliers.

I blended into the crowd, keeping my head down.

I looked around the room, searching for the face that haunted my nightmares.

A server offered me a glass of champagne, but I shook my head.

My throat was too dry to swallow.

“Clara,” a voice whispered from behind me.

I froze.

It wasn’t Derek’s voice.