. . . SLOANE I nervously walked down the long, elegant hallway of my office, my heels clicking softly against the marble floors as I approached the main hall where my VIP clients were seated. The large space was filled with displays of my most exquisite designs, their brilliance reflecting under the soft, golden lights. But my attention was focused solely on one particular guest. My hands clenched into fists not wanting to meet Damon. I hoped he was not there. I let out a deep sigh and stepped inside, my eyes immediately landed on a woman seated gracefully on one of the plush velvet chairs. A woman I recognized instantly. Darlene Santiago. I exhaled subtly once again, a wave of relief washing over me. At least it’s not Damon. With a polite smile, I strode forward. I always we

