“She’s a bitter ex-wife, Sienna,” Grant hissed, his face reddening. “She’s trying to ruin my reputation because she lost her conservation license.”

“We also know about my sister, Clara,” Adrian said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper that made my spine tingle.

Grant flinched, his jaw tightening.

“Clara went missing three weeks ago,” Adrian continued, stepping closer to Grant until they were inches apart. “She was investigating your gallery accounts. We have the security footage of her entering your marina office, Grant. She never came out.”

Sienna gasped, dropping her gold phone onto the carpet.

“Grant, who is Clara?” she whispered, her eyes wide with sudden fear. “You told me that marina office was empty.”

Grant did not answer her.

His eyes darted toward the exit doors behind the bar.

“This is absurd,” Grant said, backing away from us. “I’m calling my security team.”

“The police are already downstairs,” Adrian said.

Before Grant could take another step, the grand chandelier flickered twice.

Then, the entire ballroom plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Screams echoed through the cavernous room.

Glass shattered somewhere to my left.

“Claire, stay close,” Adrian’s voice cut through the noise, his hand grabbing my elbow.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against the rough fabric of a wool coat as someone pushed past me in the dark.

“Grant!” Sienna shrieked.

The emergency backup generators kicked in ten seconds later, bathing the room in a dull, red glow.

Grant was gone.

Sienna stood alone by the melted ice sculpture, her hands over her face, weeping.

“He ran,” Adrian said, looking at the open service door at the back of the room.

I looked down at my satin clutch purse, which was vibrating rapidly against my side.

My hands shook as I opened the clasp and pulled out my phone.

The screen lit up with a text message from an unknown number.