By nine o'clock that morning, the blood and the mud had been entirely washed away. The chaotic terrors of the night were buried beneath a clean facade of absolute corporate luxury. The stinging cold of the river water and the gritty weight of the earth that had clung to my skin were gone, replaced by the warmth of a steaming shower and the scent of expensive French lavender.
I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the private executive lounge of Vance Tower, carefully fastening the delicate gold buttons of a fresh, razor-sharp cream silk blouse. The fabric felt incredibly soft against my skin, tailored perfectly to my frame, radiating a sense of untouchable power. A diamond necklace—ironically, a priceless piece from the Vance signature heritage collection—rested directly aga
