The St. Regis Ballroom was not a place for parties; it was a cathedral for power. The air was thick with the scent of lilies and the cold, metallic tang of old money. Gold-leafed columns reached toward a ceiling painted with frescoes of forgotten kings, while the "Council of Five Families" sat on a raised dais, looking down on the elite of New York like gods on Olympus.
Elara stood in the foyer, her hand trembling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her gown—a architectural masterpiece of liquid silver that made her look like a warrior queen in evening wear.
"Deep breaths," Lucian whispered, his hand firm on the small of her back. "You already won the first round."
In the SUV on the way over, Elara had confronted Sarah via a recorded video call. She hadn't screamed; she had simply sho
